I hit Monadnock State Park this week to scope out the fall foliage and to try something new. New at the park, that is. I’ve climbed Monadnock several times before and am quite familiar with the hordes that flock to its summit. But this time, I wanted to see if I could find a lesser-known peak in the park—one that I hoped was less traveled.
When I arrived at the gate, the park attendant greeted me and asked me if I had a reservation. A reservation? Monadnock is THAT popular? I had no idea. Or had forgotten.
“No,” I said.
He responded by telling me it was fifteen dollars to enter. Fifteen dollars?! After hiking so many beautiful places in the backcountry for free, I felt like shouting, “This is an outrage!” But I want to be supportive of our park systems, and I’m genuinely grateful for all the trail work that makes these spaces accessible. So, I quickly adjusted my thinking and accepted the fifteen-dollar fee as my price of admission not just to Monadnock, but the entire state. I handed him a twenty and waited for my change. Practicing gratitude, practicing gratitude, practicing gratitude…
Lowbush Blueberry on the Smith Connecting Trail
The Parker Trail
My plan was to climb Kiasticuticus Peak, a subpeak of Mount Monadnock, standing at 2,618 feet. Following the advice of the park attendant, I parked my truck over at the visitor store and headed to the Parker Trail at the far side of the second lot. There were no cars over there yet, and no people heading that way either. Most hikers are interested in the main summit and take the White Dot Trail up.
The Parker Trail led into the Lost Farm Trail, both of which were very manageable. I walked among yellow birch, maple, and American beech trees. Saw some ash too—at least I think I did. I’m learning botany but still can’t keep it all straight. For example, some parts of the trail were crowded in by a fair amount of beech, but also hobblebush. Or at least what I call hobblebush. Maybe it’s something else that just looks like hobblebush. Maybe it doesn’t matter.
Fall foliage on the Lost Farm Trail
Wrong-Way Matt Strikes Again
All the leaf cover didn’t cause too much trouble on the Lost Farm Trail. It’s a fairly easy grade and intuitive enough to follow. Ironically, the path got trickier once I started climbing above the treeline. The Cliff Walk Trail is marked pretty well in spots, with these horseshoe-shaped “C” marks spray-painted on the rocks. But sometimes the markings disappear, and the trail looks like it splits in more than one direction.
As I’m wont to do, I took a wrong turn down the Cliff Walk Trail at first, thinking I was heading for the Thoreau Trail. After a few minutes, I had a feeling something was off, and was grateful to have cell service to confirm I’d gone in the wrong direction through the Peakbagger app. But it wasn’t a total loss—going the wrong way gave me some of the best views of the day.
Views from the Cliff Walk Trail to Monadnock’s Kiasticuticus Peak
Ascending the rest of the Cliff Walk Trail—the right way—to Kiasticuticus Peak, I stumbled into a few dead-ends where I had to scale up some crags to make it back to the true trail. It was actually fun, if I’m being honest, but weird to keep losing my way in such open ground.
Sometimes you see too many of these, and sometimes not enough.
Kiasticuticus Peak
Kiasticuticus Peak is a good one. Even though chatter from other hikers was picked up by the wind and echoed off the mountain valley, I didn’t see a soul my entire ascent. When I got to the top there were some voices that grew so loud, I was sure I was finally going to run into them, but there was nobody. Looking about for clues, I tracked them to the top of Monadnock’s main summit, easily a thousand feet away. Probably more.
After snapping a few photos, I considered climbing Monadnock, but was feeling satisfied with the morning. I needed to get back to work for a few things, and I’m trying to not overdo it. My current approach is to climb more often but without killing myself. Just single peaks if I can. I’m trying to do the hiking version of resistance training, taking deliberate steps, carrying a little more weight in my pack than I need to in order to build myself up for bigger adventures. Kiasticuticus Peak had done its job.
Views from Kiasticuticus Peak
The Way Down
I opted for the White Cross Trail for the descent, another route I hadn’t taken before. As I try to be more mindful of the places I’m visiting, I’m also revisiting my memory, and I think of all the trails I’ve climbed on Monadnock, White Cross might be the most punishing on the legs. It’s nothing like climbing Mount Lafayette or Mount Madison, but for a smaller mountain, it offers very little reprieve from the granite steps.
There are steps, though! There are several areas where quarried rock was clearly dropped in to improve the safety of the climb. As I made my way down them, I bumped into a few hikers along the way—the first ones I had seen all day—and as the trail runs fairly parallel to the popular White Dot Trail, I heard a lot more voices. I was finally approaching civilization again.
A curiosity are these rock formations, formed by erosion, that you see in many places in New Hampshire. I call them crow’s feet, or chicken feet. Good thing I’m not a geology teacher.
The Human Spirit
There were people of all ages heading up and down this part of Mount Monadnock. There were kids under the age of ten, older ones walking with a limp, and some who didn’t look like they were physically up to the challenge. But of all the people hiking, I was most impressed by the elderly ones I saw right before I got back to the visitor lot.
Wielding canes and smiles, they moseyed their way along, holding onto each other for support when they needed to, contemplating their footwear but not their end destination. They were just going. Maybe they’d get to a viewpoint, or maybe they wouldn’t. But as long as their feet could handle it, they were going to keep going up for as long as they could.
Down the White Dot Trail on Mount Monadnock