Today I found the tiniest of windows in the week to escape for the mountains, and I chose Mount Willard as my quarry.
Mount Willard is a great hike if you’re looking to take the kids without inciting a full-on mutiny. It’s just long enough to make you feel immersed in nature, and just short enough that by the time sweat starts creeping down your spine and your kids’ craving for soda kicks in, you’ve arrived at a glorious view of Crawford Notch.
Based on the advice of snowpackjack, I headed to Mount Willard to see how it fares compared to Middle Sugarloaf—another “52 With A View” mountain in New Hampshire. I hiked Middle Sugarloaf a couple of weeks ago and found it to be the easiest “52WAV” I’d climbed to date. That was, until today.
The Mount Willard Trail
After two mild brook crossings—which I assume are offshoots of Crawford Brook, though maps don’t reflect them—I came upon Centennial Pool: a small waterfall of sorts with a little swimming hole below it. A wading pool, really. If Willard wasn’t so popular, I would have considered dipping my toes in the pool on the way back down.
Instead, I settled for a few photos and an easy hike.
From the pool, the trail climbs to the summit in one of the straightest, most gradual ascents I can recall in the White Mountains. So straight it was almost boring. But it doesn’t last long. After about an hour, I found myself at the open summit, taking in views of Crawford Notch and Route 302 below. And even though Willard is usually crowded, I had the entire place to myself. In fact, I hadn’t seen a soul on the entire ascent. It was kind of weird, actually.
With all the rain we’ve been having, Centennial Pool currently has the makings of a little waterfall flowing into it. I can’t find a map that shows the pool and Crawford Brook lining up, but the pool has to be fed by an offshoot of the brook. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me—Crawford Brook is the closest water source on the map.>>
Searching for the True Summit
After a wonderful repose on the summit, where not even the copious amount of newly hatched flies could bother me, I headed down. But after five minutes, it occurred to me that I might have been at a false summit. Consulting my Peakbagger app, sure enough, I discovered that the true summit required a bushwhack. Because I have a problem with saying I did something I didn’t, I headed back to find it.
I stood on several high points past the open ledges I had previously believed to be the true summit. I’m sure the ledges are what most people assume is the summit of Willard, and for all intents and purposes, they’re good enough. If you concern yourself with the obsessive need to stand on the actual tippety-top (a habitual need I’m trying to work myself out of), you might gain another 5–10 vertical feet in doing so—but who really cares?
After touching several spots that could’ve been the true summit (with Peakbagger as my guide), I stopped. It looked like continuing would needlessly disturb the surrounding growth, and I didn’t feel like the earth needed any more of my footprints.
As I turned back toward the ledges, I wondered if the unwritten rule about Willard—and those claiming to have completed the 52 With a View list—is that the ledges are good enough. In my opinion, they are.
It’s hard to think of looking for a “true summit” when you arrive here.
On the Descent
<<Looking back up the trail from whence I came. The grade really doesn’t get too much steeper than this for the most part.
After going through the extra effort of bushwhacking, I decided to reward myself on the way down by digging into the sole sustenance I’d brought on the hike: a Snickers bar. But rather than gobble it down without thinking, I considered chewing up the whole bar before spitting out half of it—you know, to enjoy the full taste with only half the repercussions. I’m trying to lose some weight, and this is all part of the tactical negotiations.
It seemed like a reasonable play, but just as I went to spit out the unlucky half, I thought: what if this attracts a bear who comes along and mauls an unsuspecting hiker tomorrow—or later today? All because I need to trim a couple? I can’t have that on my conscience. You win this time, Snickers.
Ten minutes later, I bumped into a couple on their way up who had no idea how close they came to being attacked by the meanest black bear in New Hampshire. Would’ve been a shame if they got eaten too; they seemed like really nice people. Roughly fifteen years older than me, I’m guessing—and in great shape. Basically, who I hope to be when I grow up a little more. If I can lay off the Snickers.
When I returned to my truck, the day was warming up nicely—and it was barely 10 a.m. With the whole day still ahead of me, I wrapped up the hike, by all accounts, very satisfied.
Hiking Leads to Creativity
Each week, I try to get out for at least one mountain hike. It helps clear my head and spark new ideas for the projects I’m working on. I also can’t seem to go more than six days without feeling an anxious need to put my body through a tremendous effort. Mount Willard almost didn’t meet that need!
If you’re climbing in New Hampshire—or anywhere else in the world—and enjoy stories from the trail, head over to In the Mountains for more discoveries. I usually post a new place once per week.
It’s a long way down…
Thanks for the mention. Now you have me thinking about ranking those 52’s in order of difficulty…
It would be helpful to know, especially if you’re just starting out. I did just realize, though, that when I did the 4000-footers, I relied on this one site to get rankings on the easiest ones to do in winter, and they probably have something on the 52. Turns out they do, but not a 1 thru 52. There’s still a need! https://www.newenglandwaterfalls.com/52withaview.php