Oh Whoa! White Mountains, New Hampshire

The White Mountains Live Up to the Hype

The Tramp and I stood at the summit of Little Haystack Mountain with our boys, all of us slack-jawed and awestruck by the incredible hues of the sunset over a sea of conifer treetops in the valley below. It’s the most beautiful 360-degree view we have ever seen. Photos cannot begin to capture the sheer beauty and magnitude of a sunset from a mountaintop in the White Mountains of New Hampshire.

We experienced the most beautiful sight we had ever seen, and within moments of starting the ascent to Mount Lincoln, we were engulfed by white. Yet, even completely socked in, we were mesmerized by the otherworldliness and beauty of the White Mountains. Just as darkness descended upon the mountain, the clouds lifted again as we reached the one-mile side trail leading to Greenleaf Hut. By this point, we had already been hiking for 10 hours. We put on our headlamps and began the most challenging section of the hike—the descent down Mount Lafayette to our hut destination.

We could see the lights from the hut, which made us feel hopeful that we would be there soon. We even saw some fireworks in the valley below. Within ten minutes of beginning our descent down Mount Lafayette, the clouds engulfed us once more. This time, the clouds opened up with a heavy torrent of rain that hit us so hard it hurt. In the rain, we quickly opened our packs, pulling out synthetic layers, rain gear, and pack covers—outfitting everyone as quickly as we could. I only had my pack open for a moment, but in that instant the entire inside of my pack was drenched. Luckily, all of our essential gear was stored in waterproof sacks, so we would have dry clothes to sleep in.

Our rain gear was useless in this type of downpour, but it helped us retain heat as we made our way down Lafayette to Greenleaf Hut. It was the longest one-mile of our lives. The boys were amazing and so brave, not even shedding a tear. We stayed calm, so the kids did too. I kept a constant stream of encouragement and positivity going the whole way to the hut, which was instrumental in keeping everyone’s morale up. I’m incredibly proud of our teamwork in the face of such a challenging situation. Collectively, our only job was to keep walking so we could get to the hut, and that is exactly what we did. We slogged down the mountain in the dark, on the one-mile long sidetrail-turned-stream, for two and a half hours.

The hikers already at the hut could see the glow from our headlamps as we made our way down the steep, one-mile, completely exposed descent. With our headlamps trying to cut through the thick fog and pouring rain, our visibility was barely more than an outstretched arm's length in front of us. The cairn piles were instrumental in leading us down the mountain safely. Without the cairns, it would have been easy to lose our way in the rocks in the dark. The trail had turned into a rushing stream, creating small waterfalls the whole way down.

It was eleven-thirty at night by the time we concluded our nine-mile hike. The caretaker, Ethan, was kind enough to pull out all of the leftovers from dinner and give us a hot meal of mashed potatoes, focaccia bread, sliced chicken breast, and brownies upon our arrival. We were thankful for our dry sleeping clothes and a cozy bunk with wool blankets. We went to bed dry and with full bellies, knowing our toughest hike would greet us the next morning.

Our upcoming hike between Greenleaf Hut and Gailhead Hut, the next day, is known to be the hardest between hut hike in the Whites. It takes a fit person an average of 8 hours to hike the 7.6 miles between these two huts. It took us fourteen and a half hours to complete this 7.6 mile hike. Fourteen and a half hours! The level of fatigue that we were feeling was like none other, and we couldn’t stop because we absolutely had to reach the hut.

We had been mentally preparing ourselves for our hike between Greenleaf and Galehead Hut because we knew it was going to be hard but it was the hardest and longest hike that I’ve done to date. We were informed that this would be our toughest hike of our trip through the Whites. The difficulty of this hike certainly lived up to its reputation. Fourteen and a half hours! Mount Garfield is a beast of a mountain. It was only a 7.6-mile hike to Galehead Hut, but at times it felt like we were never going to get there because climbing over and down boulders in the dark for three hours was incredibly slow going. We arrived at Galehead Hut at midnight, quickly found our bunks, and were fast asleep without dinner. We all agreed that this was our hardest hike of our entire trip, and we never want to repeat it. Night hiking in the Whites is not something I ever wanted to do. Luckily, the weather that night was accommodating.

By the next morning, we were all pretty traumatized by the difficulty of hiking the two days prior. We were assured by the Galehead Hut caretakers that the 7-mile hike between Galehead and Zealand Hut was not nearly as rough. It took us ten hours for this hike, and we made it to the hut in time for an elaborate, vegetarian-friendly dinner of tofu stir-fry, salad, and lentil soup. The meal was complete with iced gingerbread and hot chocolate for dessert. We savored every bite.

The next morning, the weather report informed us that remnants of Hurricane Beryl were heading our way. We hiked 7.5 miles, another ten hours, over Galehead, South Twin, and Zealand Mountain to Zealand Hut. The next day, we hiked another full day to the AMC Highland Center where we got off the trail to wait out the threat of flooding and tornadoes from the safety of a hotel. Along our hike that day, we had a very enjoyable lunch break at Thoreau Falls and enjoyed slogging through the plentiful mud and moose muck. We concluded our day’s hike with an hour-long hike in the pouring rain.

After reaching the hotel, Ice Cream Sandwich and I started coming down with the flu. A trip to urgent care for Ice Cream Sandwich concluded that it is a viral illness, probably from sleeping in the huts. We will rest and recover at the hotel before resuming our trek through the Whites.

The White Mountains are no joke. Their difficulty should not to be underestimated. They are brutal, rugged, and unforgiving. When it comes to hiking, the White Mountains are in a league all their own. I’ve gone through the White Mountains before. In 2013, I solo hiked the Whites while pregnant with my first child. I remember being crushed by the same sections then, but they didn’t not take me as many hours to complete. There is no way to describe the intensity of these mountains to someone that has not experienced them firsthand. I’ve been stressing about these mountains for a month. They are every bit as hard as I remembered them to be.

Everything we have hiked on the Appalachian Trail thus far pales in comparison to the rugged intensity that the Whites bring to the table. It’s no wonder that hikers come to the Whites from all over the world to train for expeditions such as Mount Everest and to experience some of the toughest most rugged hikes in the world.

It’s recommended that a thru-hiker cut their mileage in half through the Whites. Our fellow thru-hikers, who were not hut hopping like us, would pass us during the day not expecting to see us again, and then pass us again the next day, blown away by our progress and the boys’ abilities, giving them mad kudos for their unbelievable hiking skills. If we can get through this, we have what it takes to finish the trail. There are plenty of really challenging sections coming up but none that compare to the Whites, Katahdin being the exception.

So far, the White Mountains may have crushed us physically, but they have not crushed our spirits. Although we look forward to getting out of the Whites and not having to put in such long hours, we all agree that this is by far the most beautiful section of the trail. Through this, we have found strength in one another. As a group, we stand strong, united, and ready to face the inherent challenges that the remainder of the Whites will bring.

My boys are capable, strong, resilient, and oh-so-brave. It amazes me that they can hike long, hard hours and wake up each morning ready to face another day in the wilderness. Hearing them find positives and continue to see the beauty along the trail while hiking such a challenging section makes my heart sing. I’m incredibly proud of them. I know this experience will serve them well throughout their lives.

To be continued…

Happy hiking!