Reflections on a Hike Among Presidents
While hiking the Presidential Traverse, I asked my friend Dan if he would be willing to do a short write up about his experience hiking the trail. It is the first time I've invited a guest writer, and there aren't many people that I would trust to write and share through this blog. Dan is one of a kind as far as friends go. I always value our conversations, adventures, and humor; and I knew he'd be up for the task. This week, Dan heads off on a solo hike of the 100 Mile Wilderness in Maine. In fact, it was his hike that spawned our idea to plan a "training" backpacking weekend together...and wound up on the Presidential Traverse! What can I say, I take training seriously! Good luck in the Wilderness, Dan! -Sarah
Reflections on a Hike Among Presidents
It feels like a dream. It’s hard to imagine now, from the creature comforts of my NYC apartment, that [three weeks] ago Sarah and I were well above tree-line in the White Mountains, summiting a set of peaks that relatively few can claim the honor of having traversed. The Presidential Traverse. Let’s be clear: we were a little crazy for trying to do it. I can count the number of overnight backpacking trips that I have been on on a single hand and this was Sarah’s first. We thought we would try to accomplish the 23 mile hike over three days and two nights. Sarah did her research and I did some. I must admit, though, I had no actual idea what I was getting into. I thought 23 miles over three days--easy! That’s under 8 miles/day, at a decent pace that’s no more than half-a-day’s hike each day. I knew that the weather could get nasty at the peaks and that if the predictions looked bad we would likely have to bail and find something else to do with our weekend.
What I didn’t know:
1) These mountains are literally piles of rocks. Absolutely beautiful and epic piles of rocks, but piles of rock nonetheless. And it’s hard to climb thousand-foot piles of rocks. One misplaced step and your ankle is donezo. It slows down your hiking speed considerably when you’re jumping from one large rock to the next with your backpack on.
2) Descending these mountains is harder than ascending. Much harder. When you read about the Presidential Traverse, you hear about the 9,000 foot total elevation gain and you think, “that’s a lot of feet to climb, I hope I have it in me!” But what you don’t think about and what nobody seems to mention is that that also means 9,000 feet of total elevation loss. Each time you climb up a peak you also have to go back down the other side to reach the next one. Sarah and I were ascent warriors. It wasn’t always easy, but outside of keeping an anxious eye on the clouds and weather, we felt great climbing those peaks. The views became more and more majestic the further up we went, which fueled our motivation and energized our legs. But the descents, man, that’s another story. We may have spent twice as long descending the 9,000 feet than we did ascending them. We rounded out each of our three days with pretty massive descents, either to get below tree-line for camping or to get back to our car on day three, and by the end of each one we were absolutely done. The descents are physically and psychologically painful. About half-way down your knees start to rebel and your mind decides, “we must be nearing the end.” But the end doesn’t come. And then you look at the map and realize that you still have twice as long ahead of you! Our reverse-psychology mantra became “we love rocks!” in a futile attempt to convince ourselves that we were enjoying each two-foot step down between rocks or near-vertical downward pitch that we came across.
3) “Bad weather” is an understatement when it comes to the potential devastation that the skies can bring up there. We were lucky enough to have the weather gods on our side for all three days out there, but we were checking the Mount Washington Observatory weather forecast obsessively and it was never reassuring. On Saturday morning--the day that we were planning to summit Mount Washington--the Observatory forecast included the possibility of thunderstorms, “century” (100 mph) gusts of wind, and hail. That’s not the kind of forecast you want to wake up at 4000+ feet elevation with 2000 feet of unknown ahead of you. Even on our first morning there were predictions of thunderstorms and high winds. We came close to calling it off due to the forecast at multiple points in the trip, however after creating several bail-out routes and looking at each other anxiously, we would always look up at the sky, say “well, it doesn’t look that bad right now,” and press on. I’m convinced that our luck with the weather resulted from a personal sacrifice to the Presidents: On top of Mount Adams, while we were taking pictures, a particularly strong gust of wind stole my hat away. I only realized that it happened several minutes later when I was trying to find it. It was my favorite and only hiking hat, an accomplice in adventures on five different continents over the past 15 years--from working at an Animal Rescue center in the Peruvian Amazon to riding an overnight train down the coast of China to learning about Social Medicine in Uganda. But even with all that, I can’t think of a more fitting parting than to have it magicked away on the winds of the Presidents, leaving a piece of me out there drifting around on the air currents of the White Mountains.
I couldn’t have asked for a better hiking partner than Sarah for this adventure. Her positivity and excitement for new experiences is what made this whole trip possible. Even during our brutal final day when she was battling a gnarly blister and our joints were aching with every step and scramble down another rock ledge, she kept us upbeat and moving forward. We were on our feet moving through the Presidents for around 24 hours total that weekend, which is a lot of time to spend (at times in physical pain) with another person. But with Sarah it was easy. We reflected on our 16-year friendship, which in the end was only strengthened through this shared adventure.
