I’ve been climbing the 4000-footers again, partly out of motivation from the book, and partly because of some friends who are interested in pursuing bigger mountains. I don’t have a specific goal of climbing all of the 48 again (it would take a lot to convince me to return to Hale) or pursuing any other mountain list. Admittedly, I’ve been leaning on the “52 With a View” list to check out some other mountains when my friends aren’t available to climb, but my goal there, just like my plan to revisit the 4000-footers, isn’t about conquering any list. The goal, rather, is to simply go.
Finding New Routes on Familiar Mountains
In my return to the 4000-footers, I’m making a point of finding new routes to make the experience different for me. To see the mountain in a new way. Recently, my friend Brian and I went to Mount Moosilauke, the mountain that started me on my quest to climb all of New Hampshire’s 4000-footers in one year—and the first of them to give me headaches.
On my previous visits to Moosilauke I headed up the Gorge Brook Trail: first, on a crisp winter day with skis on my back, where I ran into a storm, and second, on a fairly clear November day with my wife Liz. Climbing the same trail was okay with me then because the conditions were completely different, making the experience different as well. I also wanted to accomplish on the second attempt what I couldn’t on the first, having failed to summit on my first try.
The Beaver Brook Trail
But when Brian and I headed up there this past October, I needed something new, so I led us to the Beaver Brook Trail. A far steeper and demanding trail, but, I feel, a more rewarding one. Passing along the brook’s falls while ascending a lengthy tower of granite steps, you are quickly thrust into the experience, making you aware of the mountain’s power. A power we witnessed about halfway up, when we ran into a woman in her late fifties.
She had slept out on Smarts Mountain the night before and had been out in the wilderness for three days (if I heard her correctly). She was beaming. Tired, but beaming. Her senses were also clearly heightened from the journey because she said we smelled wonderful. It was a sunny day, and we had put on sunblock before leaving the car, which she detected even though she was standing six or seven feet away. Funny, I thought, I can’t smell it at all.
On the Summit of Mount Moosilauke
Near the summit the winds picked up and we got socked in by an impenetrable fog that lingered for the next couple of hours of climbing. Hunkering down behind some large rocks, we ate our lunch while some middle-aged Russian women filmed a dance performance at the summit sign. The old me would have thought they were crazy, but now I embraced the ridiculousness of it and asked them if we could expect to see their performance on social media. You can imagine my disappointment when they said I could look for it on TikTok; I’m an Instagram man. My brain can’t process TikTok without glitching.
Shortly after leaving the summit of Moosilauke, we took up a side-quest to summit Mount Blue. It wasn’t part of our original plan, but the Beaver Brook Route led us past an unmarked, well-trod path that we couldn’t resist. It was beautiful, lined by mossy earth hugging its borders, and a jumble of tightly wound, lichen-covered pines. If fairies are real, undoubtedly, some of them live there. The unexpected discovery of Mount Blue’s fairy sanctuary gave my legs a second wind, and I found myself feeling lighter on my feet.
Different Company Changes the Landscape
On the descent, our international day in the White Mountains continued when we met three women from the Netherlands, taking a day trip to escape a medical conference they were attending in Boston. They were extremely friendly, which has always been my experience with the Dutch, but in truth, as a rule, everyone tends to be friendlier in the mountains. It was odd, though. In my previous adventures in the 4000-footers, I didn’t run into any foreigners in the higher altitudes other than some French-Canadians. Now, we were met by Russians and Dutch, all in one day. Coincidence or evidence of a changing world?
When we returned to my truck, the sun emerged—of course—and we headed off to enjoy a recovery meal at the 104 Diner in Meredith, a place I had eaten at many times before, but with different company. Everything about the day was familiar but felt different. My first time on Moosilauke I had to ski away from an incoming winter storm. The second time I enjoyed a beautiful day with my wife as she helped launch me on my quest. This time was a mix of funny interactions with people on the trail, a new route up, and the chance to experience it with a new hiking buddy.
Final Thought
We often have to walk the same paths over and over again. Go to the same places over and over again. But with a little tweak here and there, the familiar can look and feel different. We can make the old new again. It doesn’t mean we’re having a novel experience; we still have to walk the steps and endure the strain of lifting ourselves through old territory, but if we choose a different approach, chances are good that we’ll get to meet some different people and learn a few new things along the way.
