The Presidentials, with each peak named after early American presidents, was just as hard as it was beautiful.  It presented quite the challenge not only physically but mentally and emotionally. The route over/through the Presidentials, the Crawford Path is one of the oldest continuously maintained hiking trails in the country, first created and maintained by Ethan and Allen Crawford in 1819. The AT follows a good portion of this path. Here’s how we fared.

Day 45 (Aug 14): 7 mi. (1851.2 – 1858.2)

So, our plan to have a zero (or two) and finally rest from the Whites was dashed when we looked at the coming weather window to summit Mt. Washington on a “clear” day. If we hiked out the next day, Friday would put us on Mt. Washington minus crappy weather. Mt. Washington is infamous for “the most extreme weather on earth,” having clocked winds at over 231 mph, April 12, 1934. Many companies use this aberrant weather vortex to test gear. Thus, we’d prefer a “clear” day. To reduce pack weight, we tried to schedule stays at the AMC Huts along the way, but no spots were open. We then decided we’d “gamble” and only carry two days of food for the four days of hiking, and try our luck at scoring the WFS (work for stay) positions at one or more of the Huts. Pack lightly, and trust that we’ll get lucky.  Worst case scenario,  we’ll supplement our food carry with bars from the Huts and/or resupply from the Mt. Washington “deli” and carry out from there. 

After hatching that plan the night before, we were informed that two thru-hikers staying at the Old Colony hostel decided to cook a communal meal for everyone. Turns out, they were chefs that worked at a steakhouse. So, they cooked what they knew…steaks, pork chops, mashed potatoes,  fresh veggies, and corn on the cob. The beer, PBR (what hikers crave), was provided, too. It was a feast to behold and to consume.

We lamented the fact that we had so much trail magic food earlier, but we did our best. This was one of the first times on trail, since “Hiker hunger” has arrived, that we were truly satiated at the end of the day. A full stomach made for a sound and restful night’s sleep, that’s for sure!

Jeff dropped us at the 302 and we immediately began to climb. First on the menu, Mt. Webster, a climb of 3,910 ft. This climb actually afforded us quite a few opportunities for pretty good views. While the trail tread was manageable,  it was steep and the climb up to Webster presented us with more than a few challenging scrambles, followed by a mud bog, that if you had an errant step off the bog boards, you’d find yourself probably neck deep in mud.

The climb to Mt. Jackson was less challenging but still required some sketchy down scrambles…my personal favorite (not!). Needless to say, we got a full body workout. When we arrived at the Mizpah Hut, near 5 pm, we decided to divide and conquer.  Paul went to secure a campsite while I wandered into the Hut to see if there were WFS spots available. Eureka! We totally lucked out. No one had asked about WFS, so we secured the two positions. This was fortuitous as there were no tent platform sites available. So far, so good. One-half of our food plan is fulfilled. Just before the paying guests ($220/ea gets you dinner, a bunk and breakfast) began dinner, we were given our work assignment.  It was a douzy.  De-ice and clean two large refrigerators and a large coffin freezer. It took us nearly an hour and a half, mainly because we don’t half-ass things, and it needed adult type cleaning and organizing, as opposed to the 20 something college kid idea of “clean” and “organized”. Once the guests were done with their meal, and the Croo had cleaned all the dishes, we were called into eat. Our job was to eat ALL the leftovers. Otherwise, what’s left has to be packed out. We were just as thorough with the leftovers as we were with the fridge and freezer. Pulled pork, veggies, bread, and dessert. The youngsters were amazed at our eating prowess. Years of practice… which leads to “fat camp,” or in this case, the Appalachian Trail. Tonight, we are full and out of the rain, as we are directed to sleep upstairs in the “library.”

Day 46 (Aug 15) 4.7 mi (1858.2 – 1862.9)

The hall light outside the library kept me from a deep sleep, and it was a little (actually a lot) warmer than we’ve been used to as of late, but our stuff was dry and we were still mostly full from last night. Up and packed by 6:30 a.m., we grabbed a cup of coffee and waited for the rain to slow. Today, we would have short miles to the Lake of the Clouds Hut due to the incoming weather. We also hope to be able to secure two of the four WFS spots at that Hut.

Today, we were able to catch up to Grit and walk with her for a while. For the most part, the route was pleasant with some great views. Around just about every corner, you could catch a view of the famous red roofed Washington Hotel down below.

It reminded us of seeing Mount Shasta on the Pacific Crest Trail. For 300 miles, we had a view of that mountain. Probably not the case here, though. About a mile from the Lake of the Clouds Hut (LOC), the clouds rolled in, requiring us to don our rain jackets. And 10 minutes before literally running into the fog encased LOC Hut, loud, rolling thunder bellowed from on high as the temperature dropped a little further.

Again, our luck held, and we were able to secure two of the four WFS positions at the LOC Hut. Unfortunately,  there was not much to do at the Hut, but wait and try not to eat all our food. We’d still have two more days, but at least now we’d filled in the blank days we had started this section with. It took forever it seemed to warm up from our short hike, as the building was unheated and a bit damp, and so were our hiking clothes. Our WFS job ended up being dish duty after we had eaten our fill of lasagna,  veggies, and cake. Paul squirreled away two pieces of cake for our morning’s breakfast.  By 9:30 pm we were able to move some tables and get to sleeping. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. To be honest, we are a bit concerned about our weather window and how the descent from Mt. Washington will be.

Day 47 (Aug 16): 7.7 mi (1862.9 – 1870 +.6)

Just after 7 a.m., we head out for our 1.4-mile climb up to Mt. Washington, the highest elevation on the Appalachian Trail.

As it turned out, the skies had cleared a bit, and the sun was doing its best to make an appearance. Remarkably not a breath of wind was felt as we climbed up to Mt. Washington. We reached the top, cluttered with towers and buildings, and made our way to the summit sign for an obligatory picture. I won’t say it was a warm sunny day, but it wasn’t raining, and the wind was still negligible. We made a brief detour into the visitors center and the gift shop for a postcard to mail from the mountain. We decided we would send our  new granddaughter (3 months old) a card for posterity. And, as breakfast was paltry, we decided to grab ourselves a few “vittles” to top us off. Paul, a coffee and cinnamon roll. Me, a chocolate milk and a moon pie. All for $17!

Before long, wisps of clouds started to form on the horizon. It was time to skedaddle. The hike down from Mt. Washington nearly broke me. Nothing but rocks. Some rocks were “organized” enough to pick ones way across without much thought, but most of the descent toward Madison Spring Hut was tedious. We opted not to climb the other peaks along route,  as they were not part of the AT.

The first few miles were somewhat “enjoyable,” in that we were rewarded with stunning views. But to have to pick ones way over sharp and often loose boulders whose path was suggested by rock pile carins was, for me, brutal.  I am not a climber or a fleet of foot. I am a misplaced but determined water sports gal, of which rain does NOT count. At one point (with 3 miles to go), I literally lost my shit and just sat down. I had no desire to walk any further on this treacherous trail. I screamed at the fact that this section is supposed to be maintained by the AMC, and people pay a shit ton of money to walk Hut to Hut. How is it that with thousands of people doing this year after year, and all the money they collect, they can’t figure out how to flip and move a series of rocks to make a more distinguishable trail. And then it happened. I pulled myself together cause there was nothing else to do, and low and behold, not 1 mile later, an entire mile of perfectly organized rocks, just prior to the Madison Spring Hut. Providence. Nothing more. Nothing less.

When we reached the Madison Spring Hut, they had no vacant bunks to buy and no WFS. Needless to say, I was 100% worked and out of steam. The next place to camp trail was 2 miles away with  a 1500 ft descent through a boulder field. Our only choice was a side trail,  the Valleyway Trail, which we were told was part of the old AT route, and a USFS campground a half mile down that trail. We decided to take the vintage route. On our way down, this sign was posted just before one would reach the Hut.

While the descent was steep, it was way more negotiable.  Water flowed from everywhere, which made the fact we had packed out water from the Hut for dinner and morning coffee a little silly. But then, water is easier to carry downhill as opposed to uphill.

We found the campground to be fairly full but made a slightly sloped spot “work.” We ate what we had left for food and kept a bar for breakfast. Sleep came without effort. Suddenly, in the middle of the night, we awoke with a start. Mini bears (mice) had somehow invaded our nylon domicile. We figured they must have snuck in a bit earlier when I crawled out to go to the bathroom, and with no open door, and finding nothing to snack on, they were trying to figure how to get out. After a flurry of activity, spotlighting them with our headlamps, we were able to get them to exit. Phew. This is one of the many reasons we prefer to stealth camp. Designated camping areas are hamlets for mini bears.

Day 48: (Aug 17) 6 mi. (Valleyway Trail)

The night previous, a father and daughter camped below us. They were our evening’s entertainment as the father read the instructions out loud as they worked together to erect this enormous REI tent. It would be something, maybe we’d bring for car camping. You could stand up in it, and I’m pretty sure there was room for cots.

The trail led down to Hwy 2. It was, in our opinion, a proper and perfectly routed and maintained trail. It’s what our feet, and especially my knees, needed. Once at the highway, we unfurled our “AT hikers to Town” sign, and in 15 – 20 mins, we had a ride into Gorham, and The Barn Hostel at the Libby House, which, we are told, is the oldest operating hostel on the AT.

Presidentials done. It was time to collect two packages from the Post Office, and take a zero, and oh ya…EAT.