“On Cannon I felt a belonging that I hadn’t quite experienced before—like nothing else mattered except my breath and my feet and the need to move. That my body was working with the mountain instead of against it or in spite of it.”
— from 4000s by 40
These photos reflect the experiences in Chapter 7 from 4000s by 40, with the exception of when I got naked in the parking lot! For more about the crazy things the mountains—and middle age—make you do, you can get your copy of the book [here]. To go along with the photos below, I’ve also added a quick retelling of events, along with quotes from the book, to give a small sense of what you’ll find in the book. Enjoy!
Heading Out Alone
It was an early morning arrival, which is pretty standard for me when I’m climbing something over 4000-feet. I like to assure myself that I’ll have plenty of time to summit and descend, even for a presumably shorter 4000-footer like Cannon. I was a little surprised though to see that nobody else was heading up this day. I was getting used to running into someone no matter what odd hour I picked to go climbing. It was funny to now feel surprised that nobody would be out at this hour. Who in their right mind would be?
Although Cannon is one of the shorter ascents by mileage, it’s steep, and in winter can be a long, tough climb. But the day I tackled Cannon was the first where I was completely unencumbered by other responsibilities, so the extra effort—and the time it took—were welcome. Walking beneath canopies of snow-draped trees, I found myself getting lost in peaceful thought. I didn’t see a soul all day, which, I suppose, is what also led me to some unusual behavior.
The Kinsman Ridge Trail
It was a winter wonderland. I headed up from the tram-side parking lot and had to work hard as I broke trail. But it was worth it. The trees, weighed down by the copious snowfall, formed magical tunnels that transported me to another world.
Initially, the sky carried a vibrant aqua-blue tone for much of the morning, but as I neared the summit, a shroud started to envelope Cannon and the surrounding peaks. It wasn’t ominous, like it was on my first ascent of Moosilauke; it was just gray, so I wasn’t worried. And besides, if the weather did turn, I was better prepared now for the conditions that may come.
“Having a full day to climb, I became more enamored with the process than the summit. The climb was the reward now: the effort, the steps, the connection to the mountain, the sounds of the birds, the wind rustling the leaves hanging on for dear life, the squirrels dashing away from my trail-crunching.”
On Cannon’s Summit
From the summit of Cannon, I looked down from whence I came, and what I found was breathtaking. Rivers of banded trees rolled up and over the sides of Cannon’s subpeaks. It really looked like they were moving through the mountain as the clouds rolled over the ridge, sprinkling casts of light. I was entranced. I get that way, you know.
The only problem was that it was winter. Winter hiking doesn’t encourage you to linger too long at the summit. As stunning as the views are, so are the temperatures.
Bands of trees, looking like rivers rolling over the subpeaks of Cannon
Naked in the Parking Lot
When I returned to the trailhead, I was tired and wet—a combination of sweat and the effort of trudging through the heavy snowpack. Even though Cannon is shorter than many of New Hampshire’s 4,000-footers, the conditions made this a strenuous hike. It’s a steep climb with a relentless ascent straight up the mountain, unlike many other 4000-footers that start with a more gradual approach before the real elevation gains kick in. So you’ll forgive me for being too exhausted to consider the possibility of onlookers when I stripped off all my clothes in the parking lot and dug through the backseat of my truck for something dry to wear. I just couldn’t be bothered to exercise decorum.
Even with the temperature hovering around freezing, I was surprisingly comfortable. My water supply was, too—I’d kept it from freezing by insulating the bottles with an extra pair of wool socks. I’d read about the trick online a few weeks earlier and, wouldn’t you know, it worked like a charm.
“A couple months ago, changing butt-naked outside would have been unfathomable, but now I found the idea of someone stumbling upon me to be quite humorous.”
Magic Sock Trick
Beyond the Hike: 4000s by 40
Want to go deeper than the photos? Looking for something to read as you go out on your own mountain quest? Check out 4000s by 40.
Looking for more images from the 4000-footers—or from the book itself? You’ll find them all in the 4000s by 40 Visual Companion
Cannon Mountain Ascent Details
- Route (Out and Back): Kinsman Ridge Trail – this can be a steep and rugged climb, but it gets you some amazing views—plus, it’s one of the more direct routes up Cannon.
- Elevation Gain: 2,150 Feet
- Miles to Summit: 2.5 (The addition of summiting the east peak adds .3 miles. If you skip the east peak, it’s a 2.2 mile climb up)
- Total Distance: 5 Miles
- Trailhead Location: The Kinsman Ridge Trailhead is in Franconia, NH
Exploring Cannon Mountain: Trail Reports & Peakbagging Resources
Of the shorter 4000-footers, I wouldn’t take Cannon lightly—especially in winter. Even though it’s part of a ski mountain and usually has plenty of people around, there are days when you don’t see anyone, as I found on this ascent. In my opinion, Tom, Waumbek, Tecumseh, and other peaks at the lower end of the elevation list tend to run easier than Cannon. For more resources on Cannon Mountain, here are a few helpful sites:
- Peakbagger.com – Cannon Mountain – A great place to track your 4000-footer progress, log summits, and see detailed elevation data.
- Cannon Mountain Webcam – Cannon Mountain provides a webcam on their website, which you can use to check on current conditions.
- AMC Trail Maps – It’s always a good idea to have a reliable map.
Snow Canopies on Cannon Mountain