Mt. Monroe & Mt. Washington
Where: Mt. Monroe (5372'), Mt. Washington (6288') NH
When: 9/1/2023
With: Solo
I've had this hike in my mind for some time now. The primary objective was to climb Mt. Monroe and check another peak off my NH 48 4K list. Monroe rises next to the AMC's Lakes of the Clouds hut, which is at the top of a tough but direct (and relatively short) trail. And on the other side of the hut is Mt. Washington. I'd climbed it back in 1992, so a revisit wouldn't advance the progress on my list, but hey...it was right there. Climbing it would correct an omission from my last visit. In those pre-digital days, I carried a film camera and had used the last shot on the roll before I got a shot of myself at the summit. This time I resolved to get a summit photo.
In addition to Monroe & Washington, I had a thought of trying to summit Mt. Jefferson, another NH 4K peak. There was a trail junction after Washington where I could continue to the Jefferson summit trails, or just head back to the car. I decided to see how I was feeling at that junction and make a decision there.
I'd planned to do this hike a day earlier, but Mt. Washington's weather forecast for that day called for 75 mph winds and wind chill temperatures in the teens. The cold didn't concern me, but hurricane force winds above treeline? No thank you. Conditions improved markedly though, and I got my pack ready to go. As usual, I didn't set any alarm, but I was wide awake at 3:45, out of bed at 4:30, and on the road at 5:00. I pulled into the USFS parking area just before 8:00.
I was surprised at how many cars were already in the lot as I shouldered my pack and started up the Ammonoosuc Ravine (Ammo) Trail. I expected to be in a conga line of hikers, but that wasn't the case. Yes, I did encounter other hikers from time to time - sometimes I passed them, sometimes they passed me - but most of the time it was just me and the trail.
The trail itself was pretty beaten down. Understandable, considering how much traffic it gets (it's the main route to the Lakes of the Clouds AMC hut). Log crossings of wet/muddy sections were falling apart, and a trail section along the river had nearly collapsed into the water. It was rather easy walking though, at least in the lower section. For the most part it followed the Ammonoosuc River, with beautiful cascades, pools, and even the occasional waterfall.
The easy walking changed about an hour into the hike, after the trail passed Gem Pool - a beautiful pool fed by a waterfall. The slope tilted up significantly (56 degree slope for a bit!) and the hiking turned into a one-step-after-the-other affair, just taking it slow and steady. Fortunately, there were frequent openings on ledges, inviting me to rest and enjoy the view.
About 45 minutes after passing Gem Pool, I reached the Alpine Zone boundary, and began to emerge above treeline. 15 minutes after that, the hut came into view and I arrived at the top of the Ammo Trail. Quite a few folks were at the hut (it was the start of Labor Day weekend), walking around, resting, fiddling with backpacks, etc. I looked around a bit, then joined another hiker on a bench to rest. Like me, he was an older solo hiker, working on his NH 48 list. We had similar routes in mind for the day, though he had some different plans from the top of Mt. Washington.
I was somewhat surprised at how close Mt. Monroe was to the hut, and frankly, how short it appeared to be. I thought it might be just a secondary hump along the ridge. My bench mate confirmed that it was indeed Mt. Monroe however, so I headed south on the Crawford Path toward it. That path, by the way, is amazing. 204 years of design and maintenance have created what's effectively a sidewalk through the alpine terrain.
It was a quick walk to the side trail leading to Monroe's summit and a short hike toward the top. The wind was blowing pretty strongly as I ascended and I stopped before the summit to add a clothing layer and pull my hat down to keep it from blowing away. Though the air temp was rather warm (48 degrees), the wind made it feel much colder. A few steps more and I claimed Mt. Monroe, 20 minutes after leaving the hut. A few folks had arrived just before me, and several more came up behind us, so there was a small crowd taking their turns standing on top and taking photos.
That objective completed, I headed back to the hut, stopping along the way to chat with a couple of folks doing trail maintenance. I went into the hut, mostly just to see what it looked like inside, and bought a Clif bar for a snack later. [Note: At this point, 6 hours after I left home and 3 hours after I began my hike, my food intake had been two leftover pancakes with peanut butter & a cup of coffee at 5AM, and sips of water as I walked.]
My next objective was staring me in the face as I exited the hut. Mt. Washington loomed above, dominating the view. It looked close, but a trail sign said it was 1.4 miles to the summit. The route up its side was clearly visible, dotted with hikers all along the way. The Crawford Path was rougher now, no longer a sidewalk. Rock cairns topped with white (quartz?) stones provided guidance, though sometimes I had to rely on signs of wear on the rocks to confirm I was still on the trail.
Trail junctions along the way provided evidence of progress as I slowly made my way up. The number of steps between my rest breaks steadily decreased, but I kept going. Onward and upward, as it were. The summit structures began to appear over the top of the ridge until I finally arrived at the junction with the Gulfside Trail. I'd be returning to that trail for the final part of my hike, but right now, it marked the final waypoint on my ascent of Mt. Washington. Still on the Crawford Path, I passed through the old horse corral, then the final rocky steps to the summit area.
At this point, I hit the Mt. Washington tourist crowd - folks enjoying the summit thanks to the auto road or the Cog Railway. They were hanging out on the rocks at the edge of the summit, taking photos of the expansive views, and enjoying the perfect day. I chatted with one couple who were amazed that I'd walked up, especially when I pointed out the Cog Railway facility in the valley far below, where I'd started. "And are you walking down today?" they asked. Nice folks.
Finally up in the summit area, I headed for the summit cairn for a photo. There was a line, of course, but it moved along quite quickly. I found the tower camera and made a point of turning toward it while I waited. A family just in front of me was helping their elderly grandmother up to the summit sign. It slowed things down a bit, but no one minded. Finally it was my turn. I took a selfie photo, then handed my phone to a guy who offered to take my picture. After 31 years, I finally got my Mt. Washington summit photo!
I made my way down to the visitor center and went inside. So different from the atmosphere on the trails! Kids running around, folks eating in the cafeteria or shopping in the gift shop, sullen teens on their phones, etc. I topped off my water bladder, ate my Clif Bar, then went back outside. After taking some photos (and just enjoying the views), I was on my way again. The summit crowds disappeared once I'd gone 100 feet down the trail.
Back at the Gulfside Trail junction after half an hour on the summit, I turned north to follow that trail. The first waypoint was the Cog Railway. Trains had been going back & forth the whole time I was up top, and two more passed as I approached the tracks. I stepped up on the wooden sleepers and almost fell over! I took another step and almost fell again. Apparently my legs were more fried than I'd realized. As much as that concerned me, I was more worried about the impression I was making on the couple in front of me (I'd been following them for awhile), but they didn't seem to notice. I managed to regain my balance and made it off the tracks without further incident.
The trail now headed to the Great Gulf, a huge, spectacular glacial cirque to the north of Mt. Washington. It's a designated Wilderness Area, meaning minimal maintenance of its trails. The aptly named Gulfside Trail runs along its rim, with a side trail leading down the headwall into the Gulf. On the other side of the Gulfside Trail was the Cog Railroad, with trains continuing to pass from time to time.
I got my answer about 30 minutes later, when the trail curved around the back of Clay and arrived at the Jewell Trail junction. It was about 1:15, and I had a decision to make. I sat on a rock at the junction, ate half of a bagel & PB sandwich and an apple, and considered my options. I had plenty of daylight left to get to Jefferson and get back, but my energy was running low, and I wasn't sure how far it was to Jefferson.
A trio of young men with full packs were stopped a short distance away and I listened in on their conversation. They were making their way to Madison Hut (they'd probably stayed at Lakes the previous night) and discussed whether to go over Jefferson or around. I heard one say it was 2.3 miles to Jefferson. That made up my mind. An additional 4.6 miles (plus a couple more climbs) just wasn't in the cards for me. Jefferson would be saved for another day. [A check of AMC maps later found the distance from the junction to Jefferson was 1.5 miles, plus 500' of climb. Less than I thought, but it still would have been too much.]
The Jewell Trail began its descent, winding its rocky way down through the alpine scrub. At times it was confusing, with side loops and rock cairns far off the trail. From above I watched other groups hiking down and they seemed to be taking a lot of time moving along, presumably trying to figure out which way to go in some of the confusing sections.
Eventually the route became more clear, and I stopped see where I was headed. The Cog Railway facility was clearly visible in the valley below, and I could see the path of the Jewell Trail along the ridge, but then it just seemed to stop. Hikers ahead of me got to that point, then disappeared from view. I couldn't tell if they were heading to the left or right off the ridge, or continuing straight and going over the end. 15 minutes later I arrived where the hikers had been and I reentered the forest. The trail had gone to the right.
It was nice to be below treeline again, surrounded by trees and moss, and with a footpath that became increasingly more dirt than rock. I planted my hiking poles carefully as I descended, especially on the bigger drops. Didn't need an injury at this point, and anything to take the load off my legs was welcome.
I stopped a couple of times to check out side paths. They led to cleared spots that might have been bandit campsites, though none had fire rings or flat space for anything other than a very small tent. At one point I paused for a moment and just enjoyed the silence. Mostly though, I just kept making my way down, keeping track of how much elevation I was dropping, noting the changes in the forest and terrain, and listening for the trains or traffic.
From time to time I met hikers on their way up, and at some point I caught up with a trio of hikers going down. They were moving just slightly slower than me, but I didn't feel like trying to pass them so I slowed my pace to stay behind them. I wound up following them all the way down to the junction with the Boundary Line Trail. They turned to the right to follow that trail, and I sat down to make sure I knew which way to go. The sign at the junction just said the other trail led to "Base Station Road". No mention of the USFS parking lot.
While I consulted my trail app, another hiker came down the trail. I'd seen him at a bridged crossing of Clay Brook earlier, freshening up by the water's edge. I told him I was confirming that the trail leading to the Base Station Road was the one for me, since it led to the parking lot. He said he was headed to same way, so we wound up walking together.
He was from Montreal. He used to do long hikes with a friend, but that stopped when the friend had a kid, so now he hikes alone. He comes to the Whites once a year and spends a few days there. This year, he was doing a Presidential Traverse. He'd stayed at the Madison hut the previous night, and had reserved space at the Mizpah hut for his next stop. But he hadn't been feeling well and hadn't eaten much at Madison. Stories he heard from other hikers about the hike to Mizpah concerned him, and when he got to the Jewell Trail junction he decided to bail out.
We continued to chat as we made our way toward the parking lot. As we approached the end he asked if I would be going past the Highland Center, where his car was parked. He'd taken the hiker shuttle from there to the Appalachia trailhead to get to Madison, but had missed this day's afternoon shuttle from the Ammo lot to Highland. Though I wasn't going that way, it was only 10 minutes away and I said I'd be happy to give him a lift.
We arrived at the end of the trail, made our way to my car, and loaded our gear in. When I turned on the engine, the dashboard clock came to life. It was just past 4:00, eight hours after I'd started. I was surprised. I was expecting 3:00 or maybe 3:30. The hike down the Jewell Trail had taken 2.5 hours. The decision to skip Jefferson had been wise.
A few moments later we were cruising down the Base Station Road, then south on Route 302. It was interesting to look up at the peaks and know we'd been up on them just a few hours previously. Cars parked along the side of the road signaled the approach of the Highland Center. I parted ways with my rider at the entrance to the Center, then turned my car toward home, arriving in the driveway a little before 7PM.
The numbers:
- 9.3 miles
- 4,245 ft. climbing
- 8 hours of hiking
- 5.5 hours of driving
- #37 of the 48 NH 4000 footers (11 to go)
