Presi Traverse
by Matt Marino
The Presidential Range Traverse is an exposed hiking route in northern New Hampshire (see banner photo above) that spans +/-9 summits - Madison, Adams, Jefferson, Clay, Washington, Monroe, Eisenhower, Webster and Pierce - over +/- 20 miles. Cumulative elevation gain throughout the hike reaches +/- 10,000-feet. Matt wrote the below piece after completing the route (North > South) with J. McGowan during the summer of 2002.
No adventure should begin without sleeping in a car. I don’t sleep well as a rule, and that rule seems especially true when sleeping in highway parking lots. After you’ve moved all of your superfluous gear into the front seats, lie down, stare at the brilliance of the moon and stars, and listen to the occasional 18-wheeler roar by, it’s pretty much time to wake up. On the night prior to our Presi Traverse, after what seemed like about two hours of “eye-resting” I peered behind my spare tire and was relieved to see J.M. mulling about in the back of his Golf with the interior lights on, which illuminated his cramped clumsiness and foggy windows. Time to get up.
No adventure should commence without coffee, preferably as dark and nasty as the Charles River. I boiled some water while J.M. threw some extra coffee beans in the trail mix. The cold air, the intensity of the coffee and the adrenaline for the feat ahead made for jittery movements and nervous laughter. The whole Notch (Crawford’s) was enveloped in thick fog. Neither J.M. nor I had hiked about 85% of this route, so the thought of navigating the whole trek from cairn to cairn made me a little uneasy.
No adventure should be without a good soundtrack (at least during the Preparatory Phase). Unfortunately, J.M. likes Collective Soul. It would have to do for the drive over to the northern trail head of the traverse.
No adventure should begin after sunrise. However, to properly abide by this edict, one should have necessary illumination and batteries for said illumination. So although my headlamp didn’t work (my second one), we had a back-up flashlight, and the sun would be coming up in about an hour. Were we really ready for this? I mean we couldn’t even properly prepare operating headlamps and had no idea where we were going. My fear that something would go wrong and we’d lose our way and tumble off the mountain was mixed with the knowledge that J.M. and I were pretty fit, relatively smart guys that had in our cumulative experience managed plenty of outdoor uncertainty. I also had a credit card on me; we would, after all, hike through the circus that is the summit of Mt. Washington and could probably buy our way out of trouble if necessary.
No adventure should proceed with out some degree of uncertainty. For this adventure, we had no problem with that; uncertainly reigned: route-finding, terrain, weather, and endurance. But route finding was at the top of my list. I am paranoid about knowing exactly where I am. Especially when you are in the dark, in the fog, on a route you have never traveled before. Proper navigation is the survival variable often at the foundation of the other survival variables. (if you don’t get lost, you don’t have to spend that night exposed above tree-line, decide which berries are okay to eat, take a chance on puddle water, etc.). So at nearly every junction and clearing in the trail, I double checked our route and heading.
Most of the elevation gain during this trek comes in the first few miles, getting up Madison and onto the Presidential Ridge. After Madison and Adams, we found a fairly steady rhythm skipping around the boulder strewn trail on top of the ridge. Trail is a generous term on top of the Presidential Ridge. Really, you just hop from boulder to boulder guided by neatly stacked, child-high, pyramid-shaped rock cairns, hoping you can see another each time you successfully pass one.
We managed to stay on course until reaching Mt. Washington. On its summit slope, we heard the whistle of the cog railway engine but didn’t realize how close we were to the tracks until passing underneath them. Enveloped in the thick fog, we accidently hiked right around the western edge of the summit cone, thereby missing it. We realized the mistake on the south side of the summit, and corrected the mistake by doubling back up via the upper reaches of the Tuckerman’s trail. At the summit of Mt. Washington, from a net elevation gain/loss perspective, it was all downhill from there...
No adventure is complete without a little bit of delirium. Mine set in about 8 hours in, and lasted until we were untying our shoes at the car. J.M., like a good shepherd, led the way and did his best to guide me back to reality. The fog had finally lifted during that last quarter of the trek, a softer, more forested section of the ridge. With the jagged trail and major peaks behind us, we let gravity do the rest of the work for us, pounding down the trail towards the southern trailhead at Crawford Notch.
Adventure is what happens when we unnecessarily court uncertainty, in an effort, I suppose, to keep our will and ego in good form. Or just get a good view. It’s best shared.
Matt Marino is dedicated to continuous improvement - "kaizen" - through adventures of mind and body. You can learn more about Matt at MCM Home, or contact him at: mcm4web@gmail.com
