Perhaps the best-known ridge hike in the East is the Presidential Traverse, a 20- to 22-mile jaunt above treeline across the White Mountains. Summiting the tallest five peaks in the northeast, plus two or three more 4000-footers, the total elevation gain is 8,000 to 9,000 feet.
The “average” hiker does this trek in 14 hours, not including rest stops. My posse did it in 12 hours total, including more than an hour of breaks for coffee, lunch, and photos. The oldest in our group was 56. The youngest was 13. The fastest known Presidential Traverse is an incredible four hours and 34 minutes. (Update: The four-hour barrier was broken in 2019 by a Division I nordic skier who did the traverse in three hours and 42 minutes.)
We set off at 5:30 a.m. from Appalachia Trailhead on Rt. 2 in Randolph, having woken an hour earlier about 35 miles away at the AMC’s Highland Center Lodge in Crawford Notch, which was our final destination via the mountain trails. The idea was to pack light and travel fast, resting minimally.
Our first complication came about two miles up Valley Way trail, when my 13-year-old cousin, Aidan, fell in a river. He slipped and landed knee-deep in a freezing stream, soaking his shoes and socks. I think we all at that moment ruled out Aidan’s chances for finishing the traverse. Except Aidan. He kept trekking up the steepest part of the climb on Watson Path, so steep that I had to grab at trailside trees and roots to hoist myself up the rocks and keep balance from falling backward.
Phil Plouffe, age 61, coming above treeline in the early morning of the traverse.
We summited our first peak, Mt. Madison (elev. 5,367 feet), at about 8:10am and could now see a good chunk of the hike ahead along the treeless ridge connecting the Presidential peaks.
Down at Madison Hut, we took a bathroom and coffee break, snacking on some pancakes leftover from the hut’s breakfast. I asked Aidan how his feet felt; he shrugged and said “fine” — I think it takes an exorcist to unlock the inner thoughts of a seventh grade boy. I suggested they consider summiting Mt. Adams at a slower pace and then trek back down to the car — no shame in a nine-mile hike that tags two major peaks, I said. They nodded.
Aidan, 13, and his dad atop Mt. Madison.
We all summited Mt. Adams (elev. 5,774 feet) at 9:30am. Aidan and his dad continued with us.
We summited Mt. Jefferson (elev. 5,712 feet) at 10:30am, where we met a young woman named Taylor Radigan who was about to finish a solo hike over all 48 4,000-footers of the White Mountains in two weeks. She started Aug. 8 and would end Aug. 22, averaging about 20 miles a day, with only one day of rest. Her legs were cut and bruised and she seemed undernourished by the way she snatched Uncle Steve’s beef jerky and readily accepted my breakfast leftovers of Chex mix, raisins, and LÄRABAR.
Me trying to read the map atop Mt. Jefferson.
While Phil, Gus and I scurried up about 50 feet to the true summit of Jefferson, Aidan and his dad rested. I thought they were ready to call it quits. But Taylor Radigan must have whispered some secret Sherpa hiking mantra to Aidan, because he and his dad were soon ready for more.
“Let’s go, I’m getting cold!” Phil chastised. Apparently US Postal Service letter carriers — especially the ones that have summited Aconcagua, tallest peak in the Americas, and made it to Camp IV on Mt Everest, just 3,000 feet shy of the top of the world — are strict task-masters.
Phil, Gus, and I hiked over Mt. Clay, while Aidan and his dad skirted around the sub-peak on the Gulfside Trail.
We all summited Mt. Washington (elev. 6,289 feet) a bit after noon. We were now halfway done with the traverse. Here was an optional bailout for Aidan and his dad via either the Cog Railway or Auto Road. I also suggested they could take the Crawford Path directly down, skipping the peaks of Monroe, Eisenhower, and Pierce and saving themselves 1-2 miles and several hundred feet of elevation gain.
After a half-hour break, I took off with Phil and Gus toward Lakes of the Clouds Hut and then toward Mt. Monroe, summiting around 1:30 p.m. I looked backward, expecting to see Steve and Aidan sticking to the Crawford Path, but instead they were just behind us on Monroe — they were still going for the full traverse.
Eisenhower (elev. 4,780 feet) at 2:30 p.m. By now, Aidan and his dad were trailing more than a mile behind Phil, Gus, and I.
Pierce (elev. 4,310 feet) at 3:30 p.m.
Phil and I atop Mt. Pierce.
From here, the “official” traverse backtracks one-tenth of a mile to the Crawford Path and descends to Crawford Notch. For the ambitious who want to add two miles to their traverse, another trail goes over Mt. Jackson (elev. 4,052 feet — named after a geologist and not the 7th U.S. president) and Mt. Webster (elev. 3.910). Phil, Gus, and I took the long way while Aidan and his dad (about two hours behind us) went directly down.
Back at the Highland Center by 5:30 p.m.
Without pausing to drop my bag, I put up my thumb for a hitchhike back to our van way back at the trailhead. Within minutes, two young women offered me a ride — the driver and her friend had just finished the same hike, but taking two days. We passed an open field with a big black bear. I was at the car by 7 p.m. and back to Highland Center by 7:30, my feet blistered and oozy.
Uncle Steve was there as well, enjoying a celebratory beer with Gus. Aidan, his feet finally in dry socks, had finished his first traverse at the age of 12. The same trek had taken me 31 years, Gus 36 years, Steve 50 years, and Phil 56 years. We’d gotten lucky with mostly clear skies, hardly any wind, and no rain but for a short passing shower atop Eisenhower. By the next morning, all the peaks would be in the clouds.
Then we drove home.
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