The vast majority of the north-eastern US is hill country but by common consent the two classic peaks are Mt Washington in the White Mountains and Katahdin in Maine. In 1994 I had a November trip which included memorable days on both. We had driven up to Maine from New York over a couple of days and booked into a motel in Millinocket, just outside Baxter State Park, which Katahdin dominates. Gina was waiting for a knee operation and couldn't climb hills so I was on my own for the big days.
Pamola Peak and the Knife Edge
Katahdin is the terminus for the Appalachian Trail and a high proportion of its ascents come up that from the south-west, but the north-eastern flank is far finer. Here two huge corries are rimmed by cliffs, with climbs and scrambles of over 1000 feet. The south rim curves round in a hook shape as the famous Knife Edge and the most impressive climbs run up the inside face of this. North of the main summit (Baxter Peak) the plateau broadens out into a stony upland with minor summits, reminiscent of parts of the Cairngorms. The cliffs dropping from here into North Basin contain some of the most remote rock climbing in the North-East US, and the sprawling ridges further north run down into valleys that take a couple of days to walk out from.
Tabor Wall, North Basin
Given the scale and the time of year an early start was called for and I left Millinocket at 6.30 so as to start walking at first light. I signed in at the entrance to the Park (and paid, of course, this was America!). As it was out of season you were allowed to drive in to Roaring Brook campground, where there were big warning signs saying "The mountain takes ten hours, you only have nine hours daylight". As the classic main summit loop is is only 12 miles and 4500 ft anyone taking ten hours must be walking backwards! Though having written the last sentence I took a quick look at the All Trails website and there's someone who took 20 hours – as she said "I wasn't ready for this trail".
I followed the Helon Taylor Trail up through the trees, a well-used track which led out onto the open Keep Ridge after a couple of miles. As there's a natural treeline the pines gradually got smaller and petered out, a nice contrast after Britain's hard-edged planted woodlands. The ridge wasn't too steep and the rocky path was excellent (and nicely unobtrusive) so I made good time up to Pamola Peak at just under 5000 feet.
The main climbing face below South and Baxter Peaks
Here I got my first view of the Knife Edge and the huge granite cliffs on its flank. There were streaks of ice running down the gullies and I did wonder whether there might be some on the ridge itself. In fact there were a few patches, but they weren't in places that made anything more difficult.
The Knife Edge from Pamola Peak
Depending on who you ask/read the Knife Edge is either "full blown rock climbing" or just a bit of exposed scrambling. It's much more the second than the first. You drop to a narrow notch between Pamola and Chimney Peaks then have an awkward scramble up the other side. It's steep and makes you think but the tricky bit is just a couple of moves. After that you get the spectacular fun of the Knife Edge itself. It's certainly narrow and exposed but it's very easy. In UK terms the sharp bit is harder than Striding Edge but easier and less scary than Crib Goch, while the notch is like a slightly harder version of Liathach's Am Fasarinen. It gets Grade 2 on the UK Climbing database but it's quite high in that grade and I wouldn't quibble with anyone who thought it Grade 3.
Pamola Peak and the Knife Edge
After half a mile the ridge broadens to a fine airy walk over South Peak to the main summit. Here I was expecting that I might find other people but there was nobody in sight. I later found out from the ranger on the gate that there had only been ten people in the whole of Baxter State Park all day, none of them aiming to climb the hill. Even though it was a November weekday this seemed surprising for such a well-known peak in superb weather. The air had that wonderful winter clarity and spread out below was what looked like a vast wilderness. You could see perhaps a hundred miles in all directions and the forest hid any signs of human impact, making it all seem really remote.
Cathedral Ridge, with The Saddle behind
There is a fairly steep descent northwards from the summit via the Cathedral Trail, and a good easy scrambly ridge alongside it, Cathedral Ridge, but both of these are better in ascent. In the fantastic weather I didn't feel in the least like going down yet and two more trails headed off in the right direction from the next saddle and from Hamlin Peak so I had options. In the back of my mind there was the unspoken thought that it would be nice to go all the way round to the Howe Peaks at the northern end of the horseshoe and find a way down into North Basin from there.
The map I had was pretty useless so I knew I would be following my nose and the ground anyway. I hadn't been to the States before this trip and was amazed how poor the maps were compared to those I was used to in Britain or the Alps. They showed the maintained trails, contours and major streams but very little else. There were barely any cliff markings despite lots of cliffs, no surface vegetation shown except a vague idea of where the treelline was and no differentiation of paths depending on how obvious they were. Things have improved since 1994 but US maps still pale in comparison to Ordnance Survey ones. UK hillgoers are thoroughly spoiled!
When I got to Hamlin Peak I still had loads of time so Howe Peaks it was. The only path over these headed off northwards into the wilderness so was no use to me, but I could see the ground I would have to descend to get into North Basin and I knew there was a path at the entrance to this. This left half a mile of boulders, scrub and forest to negotiate that I knew nothing about. It would be an adventure 😁
Tabor Wall, North Basin. I came down the slabs on the bottom right.
Under the Howe Peaks is a huge slab of steep granite and to avoid this I obviously had to continue well round past the summits and follow the pathless eastern shoulder for a while before descending. There were rocks further east too but they looked much easier angled and I suspected that they would be easier going than the scrubland between the plates of slab. A few hundred feet down the shoulder I spotted a line of bouldery ground where I could easily scramble down to the slabs, which as I had guessed turned out to be easy. There was just one short steeper wall right at the bottom to be zigzagged down before reaching the screes.
Blueberry Ponds, North Basin from Hamlin Peak
I crossed boulders and scrub to the twin Blueberry Ponds in the centre of the Basin, hoping that there might be a fisherman's path to them from below, but no such luck. My map marked a path up to Blueberry Mound on the north-east lip of the Basin so I crossed more boulders, scrub and incipient forest to reach it, only a third of a mile but tough going. My luck still wasn't in as the path had been officially closed because of fallen trees. Crossing them was even harder work than the Basin had been. I did see a moose though, from only a few yards away. In more open country I might have been worried but here the intermeshed blowdowns made an impenetrable fence (well, impenetrable if you're the size of a moose anyway). Thankfully there was less than a mile of gymnastics before I came out onto the main trail near the large Basin Ponds. From here an easy downhill stroll led back to Roaring Brook, where I met my only other walker of the day, a local who had been up to Chimney Pond below the main cliffs. I'd managed the whole circuit in 7.5 hours and still had over an hour of daylight – so much for "ten hours"😁.
Howe Peaks from Basin Ponds. I descended the boulders and slabs starting just right of the central top
After a thoroughly enjoyable three days in Acadia National Park doing easy trails with Gina and scrambling up granite craglets in glorious sunsets we headed over to New Hampshire. We were going to stay with friends in North Conway for Thanksgiving so if I was going to get up Mount Washington there was only one day it could happen. Annoyingly the winter snows were forecast to arrive as a big storm that same afternoon. This meant another early start and I was walking from Pinkham Notch by 7am. It was very windy but the cloud level was above 4000 feet and there were patches of sun around. I got a move on and was soon up at Hermit Lake, waking up a guy dossing on the verandah of the hut. Despite the forecast the weather was improving and it was even pleasant when you were out of the wind. You could see the whole headwall of Tuckerman's Ravine, streaked with icefalls, and the path slanted up below these, with an icy section crossing a stream needing care.
Tuckerman's Ravine headwall
It was a different world up on the plateau though. The mist closed in and the wind was around 50mph. I was being blown around a lot but it was mostly behind me so I could still make good progress. Although there was quite a lot of ice about there wasn't any snow on the ground until the last few hundred feet. In summer you can drive or take the train up Mount Washington and the last few hundred yards of the Tuckerman's Trail are along the road. This was a sheet of ice. Striding down it at a fair lick was a local who had started out in the dark and obviously knew the place. He hadn't bothered with an ice axe but was using crampons, ideal planning, whereas packing 3000 miles away I'd had no idea of what conditions to expect. I knew it was a well known winter climbing area so had brought an ice axe, but crampons had seemed over the top for November. Wrong! There was no way I could walk up the road so I had to clamber along the side on icy and snow-spattered boulders. At least it wasn't very far.
The summit was an ugly huddle of rather battered tourist infrastructure and there was no view. It was already 9.30 so I didn't hang around. More ungainly clambering down the boulders followed, mostly on my backside. The strengthening wind had lifted the clouds a bit so I got a view after a few hundred feet. To keep the view for longer and for variety I decided to descend the Lion's Head ridge. This also meant staying in the wind for longer but as it was downhill it wasn't too bad. I could lean on it in places but it wasn't blowing me over.
Looking down Tuckerman's Ravine from the Lion's Head ridge
Back down at Hermit Lake I met a group of three still planning to go to the summit that day. They had read all the warnings about how dangerous the mountain is and brought kit for every eventuality (I learned later that the commonest cause of death on Mt Washington is hitting a moose on the approach road). Their sacks were huge and made them very slow but they hadn't considered the forecast and gone for an early start. A total contrast to the guy I'd met higher up. I was back down by 11.15 and the snow started a couple of hours later. I hope they were OK.
Mt Washington from North Conway
Comments