Signposts 
	and Junctions      
	We seem to be a country of ‘lists’ and that trend made its way to the 
	hiking community of the northeast as well. The White Mountains of New 
	Hampshire have 48 peaks above 4000’ of elevation as compiled by the 
	Appalachian Mountain Club’s Four Thousand Footer Committee (FTFC), a group 
	formed in 1957 to establish the official criteria and maintain the list of 
	peaks. In addition to the 4000’ of elevation requirement, each official peak 
	must be at least 200’ above the low point of a connecting ridge leading to a 
	higher neighbor. A hiker must climb all the peaks on the official list to 
	request membership in the ‘club’. There are many other lists and clubs 
	associated with the mountains of the northeast: the New England 4000 footers 
	and the Northeast 111 to name two. The Northeast 111 includes the 4000 foot 
	peaks of New Hampshire, Maine and Vermont, as well as the 46 peaks over 
	4000’ in the Adirondacks and the 2 peaks over 4000’ in the Catskills (there 
	are 115 peaks in this list but they have kept the original name). 
	 
	My personal history of hiking in New Hampshire covered eighteen years, from 
	1972 through 1990, and it took me the first fifteen of those years to climb 
	all of the 48 peaks over 4000’ in the White Mountains. At the end of that 
	period, Mt Moosilauke stood as the one 4000’ peak most visited by me, having 
	climbed that peak 20 times. I mentioned that fact in a post on the 
	Appalachian Mountain Club’s (AMC) online message board when I responded to a 
	comment in the ‘Hiker Journal’.
	 
	Later, a Forum member started a thread where he asked people to respond with 
	their most visited peaks. A variety of answers came in, each with a favorite 
	peak or peaks and a number to quantify how many times the individual had 
	reached the summit, and every one of the replies said much about the people 
	and their experiences in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Popular 
	destinations, mountains with the names Lafayette, Washington, Adams, and 
	Moosilauke appeared in replies, with numbers in the low digits to several 
	dozen. Some listed peaks that were not 4000 footers while others listed New 
	Hampshire peaks out of the White Mountain region such as Cardigan and 
	Monadnock.
	 
	One reply was particularly impressive. A Forum member named Kevin Rooney 
	replied with a post that said, “I keep a log of my hikes, but I track only a 
	few specific peaks. My favorites include Lafayette (80+), Moosilauke (50+), 
	followed closely by Washington, and Adams (25+). In VT, my favorite is 
	Camels Hump (25). Obviously, I've done more than a few rounds of the NH 
	4's.”
	 
	Standing on the summit of Lafayette more than 80 times was impressive 
	indeed, but it was that last sentence caught my interest and I found myself 
	thinking about it often during the days that followed, the sentence where 
	Kevin said he had climbed all 48 of the 4000’ peaks more than a few times. 
	It was apparent how important the White Mountains had become in the lives of 
	so many people. I saw the desire and determination that played such a part 
	in those numbers, as well as the love and commitment required of an 
	individual to live such a life. I could understand it easily enough; even it 
	was out of the realm of my experience. I knew firsthand the effort required 
	to make one successful circuit of all 4000’ peaks. I thought of the 
	preparation time, the travel, the sacrifice required of a person to make it 
	all a reality. I also knew about the personal satisfaction and contentment 
	that one could gain from such a commitment and sacrifice. Guy Waterman came 
	to mind, and I remembered reading that he had climbed every 4000’ peak from 
	every compass point in winter. The commitment and sacrifice required to 
	accomplish that feat was something I could not understand; not only was such 
	an undertaking not in my realm of experience, but I also found it very hard 
	to fathom.
	 
	These ruminations led me to revisit my own history in the 
	mountains of New Hampshire and my thoughts turned to lists, dates, and 
	mountain peaks. Most important to me though, was the way I viewed my own 
	history with the 48 peaks over 4000’. Yes, I had attained every summit, but 
	it took years of hiking before I began to think that I might actually climb 
	them all; the fact that it took me 15 years to accomplish the feat speaks 
	volumes about that. Other than an occasional winter trip to a hut at Carter or Zealand Notch, 
	I was a three-season hiker and never lived in the White Mountain region proper. Yet in that period, I made numerous ascents of peaks I 
	had already climbed and this realization struck a chord with me. 
	 
	Anyone lucky enough to have climbed every 4000’ peak carries with them a 
	myriad of special memories, yet every individual in this group shares two 
	events with every person fortunate and persistent enough to achieve this 
	goal; they can point to a first peak climbed and at a final summit attained. 
	In between these two events lies the journey over the remaining peaks that 
	each hiker follows and completes in their own unique order according to the 
	dictates of their heart, constrained only by opportunity and desire. 
	 
	Something else belongs to each individual's singular journey over the peaks, 
	and that is all the trails and summits that a hiker revisits before the 
	journey is complete. Many reasons can account for this: the weather, 
	proximity, exceptional beauty, or the will of the group. I could not imagine 
	it being any other way; doing them one at a time with no repeats is 
	something I could never do, yet to each their own.
	 
	Over the years, I began many camping trips planning to climb and explore new 
	areas in the Whites. Yet I was a creature given to spontaneity and if the 
	breaking dawn revealed a perfect day, I often headed for those summits and 
	trails that gave me such pleasure each time I experienced them. I believed 
	in the thought expressed by Heraclitus, that no man crosses the same river 
	twice for at the next crossing the river has changed and so has the man. I 
	felt this way about all the great summits and trails, and I never tired of 
	revisiting them.
	 
	For me, it all began in the late spring of 1972 when a friend, Ed Asikainen, 
	brought me to the White Mountains from Connecticut for my first visit. I had 
	recently left the Army and had no real plans for the future. We spent a fine 
	week camped down on the eastern side of the Kancamaugus Highway. On that 
	trip, I made my first ascent of a 4000’ peak, Mt Washington. We parked at 
	Pinkham and followed the Tuckerman Ravine Trail to the junction with the 
	Lions Head Trail, and followed that trail up to the summit. On the descent, 
	we traveled through Tuckerman Ravine on our way back to Pinkham. For the 
	first time I saw the great summits and ravines of the Mt Washington area. 
	Later in the week, we climbed Mt Chocorua down in the southern part of the 
	mountains.
	 
	In 1973, I climbed Mt Washington again via the same route Ed and I had 
	followed the year before. Steve Barton and his wife Linda, as well as his 
	brother, Dick, were my companions on the trail. As we walked along the edge 
	of Tuckerman Ravine on the way to the summit, I saw the gray clouds scudding by 
	directly above us. I looked across to the Boott Spur and saw the silhouette 
	of a lone figure 
	standing erect there on the rocks, the clouds seemingly inches above his head. It 
	was a spectacular sight. At the top, we enjoyed a rest in the old wooden 
	summit building as the clouds broke and distant mountains became visible. 
	Returning to Pinkham, I purchased my first AMC White Mountain Guide, the 
	1972 edition bound in orange leather.
	 
	Later that year I spent a week camping on the Kancamaugus with Ronnie 
	Michaud. We climbed Passaconaway early that week and a few days later we 
	followed the Greeley Pond Trail from the Kancamaugus and, after reaching the 
	ponds, we climbed Osceola East Peak and Osceola before returning along the 
	same route. The trail up East Peak in those days went straight up a scar on 
	the middle of the peak direct from the pond to the summit. The trail was 
	very steep and it was rough going, especially on the descent to the ponds 
	after returning from Osceola. Towards the end of the summer, I hiked over 
	the Tripyramids from Waterville Valley.
	 
	In 1974, I made my now annual camping trip to the eastern Kancamaugus and 
	climbed Whiteface and Chocorua. I was married that August and on our 
	honeymoon, we drove up the New England coast and made stops at Gloucester, 
	Boothbay Harbor, and Bar Harbor before swinging west to stay in the White 
	Mountains for a few days. One fine sunny day Loretta left me off at Pinkham 
	while she went shopping and exploring around North Conway. I climbed the 
	Boott Spur that morning and stood upon the rock where I had seen the lone 
	hiker standing beneath the clouds the year before. I finished the day by 
	hiking south on the Davis Path for a short distance and made my descent on 
	the Glen Boulder Trail before returning to Pinkham.
	 
	1975-1977
	The next three years were the best of times. Loretta and I had friends, Mary 
	Ellen Casey and Steven Cooney, who now lived in the White Mountains. They 
	had rented rooms in a fine old house over on the West Side Road near the 
	Saco River and Loretta and I would often visit them and sleep on the floor of their 
	apartment. A friend of theirs, Jim Emerson, took the five of us on a hike to Moosilauke, 
	my first ascent of the venerable peak. We made our ascent up the steep but scenic Beaver Brook 
	Trail from Kinsman Notch on the perfect kind of summer day that seemed cut 
	from a diamond. Steven and I did many other hikes together as the girls did 
	their own thing. We climbed Tom, Field, and Willey on a crisp late summer 
	day, and a few days later climbed Mt Jackson and Webster Cliff. We climbed 
	Clinton and Eisenhower, and made a freezing May trip in deep snow over the Hancocks. I made several other ascents of Moosilauke to show friends from 
	Connecticut a peak that was both incredible to climb and conveniently 
	located in the southern part of the mountains. My dog, Niz, and I camped at 
	the summit of Carrigain, a memorable trip indeed. I camped at Dolly Copp for 
	the first time and climbed Madison via the Webster Scout Trail with Ed 
	Mainville. I will always remember that first view of the summit of Madison 
	from Osgood Junction as the trail arced up ever higher over rocky ledges. Steve 
	Barton and I made the climb up the Greenleaf Trail to the hut and from there 
	continued up to Lafayette, Lincoln, and Liberty before descending the 
	Liberty Spring Trail and hitchhiking back to our van at the top of the 
	notch. Dan Quigley and I climbed Moosilauke and later partied with two 
	harmonica players in Lafayette Campground.
	 
	1978-1980
	I made more than one ascent of all the peaks in the Presidential Range, 
	Bondcliff and the Bonds, the Twins, Zealand, Garfield, and Hale. There was 
	one memorable hike to the summit of North Kinsman made with my close friend 
	Don Doughty on a long daytrip from Connecticut. I also explored the Great 
	Gulf, King Ravine, and made memorable visits to Carrigain and the Franconia 
	Range. I also made one harrowing (for me) ascent on the Huntington Ravine 
	Trail.
	 
	1981-1983
	I was a regular visitor to Dolly Copp Campground during the 1980s, and by 
	this time, I was well equipped. There was a memorable traverse of the Carter 
	Moriah Range that started on rte 2 and we followed the trail south to Zeta 
	Pass where we dropped down to a second car at the Nineteen Mile Brook 
	Trailhead. We also used the Stony Brook Trail as a way to experience a loop 
	over the Carters and hike down from Zeta Pass. I stood atop Cannon Mt and 
	Galehead, the Owls Head, the two summits of Wildcat and Mt Flume. I visited 
	the summits of Carrigan, the Franconia Range, and the Presidentials as well.
	 
	1984-1987
	I gained the summits of South Kinsman, Tecumseh, and Carter Dome. I had a 
	pick-up truck with a camper top during these years and I used the ability to 
	sleep near trailheads as a way to explore the North Country and finally 
	ascend the main peaks of Cabot and Waumbek, as well as their almost 4000’ 
	neighbor Starr King. In 1986, I climbed Moosilauke five times. Finally, in the summer of 1987, I found myself with one summit to 
	go, Isolation. I celebrated that fact by climbing Isolation twice that year.
	 
	That completes the saga of my 48 summits, a journey completed in a totally 
	unplanned and haphazard manner. Because of this story, and for the first 
	time in my life, I listed the peaks that, for no particular reason, I had 
	only climbed once during the journey: Wildcat ‘D’ (the official peak was 
	Wildcat ‘E’ when I climbed it), South Kinsman, Cabot, Waumbek, Moriah, Tom, 
	Owl’s Head, and Tecumseh. I spent a lot of time south of the Kancamaugus 
	Highway, in the Pemigewasset, in the Presidentials, on the Franconia Ridge, 
	and on the Twins and Bonds. I did not spend much time exploring the Rocky 
	Branch, the Dry River, or the Davis Path. I began my White Mountain 
	experiences by spending a week camping on the eastern side of the 
	Kancamaugus every May, and spent my last decade camping at Dolly Copp every 
	year before Memorial Day. I met a family there, I believe their names were 
	(if memory serves) Cliff and Laura Leupold, and they were from Fitchburg 
	Massachusetts, or some place nearby. Every year I met them at Dolly Copp and 
	over the passage of time watched the kids grow up and the new additions 
	enter the picture. Other friends would come to Dolly Copp and camp during 
	that week. We made day hikes together and partied by the campfire at night; 
	good times all.
	 
	I climbed Mt Washington for the last time in 1989, hiking to the summit from 
	Lakes of the Clouds after spending the night at the hut. After a few 
	contemplative and personal moments, I returned by way of the Crawford Path 
	to where the Davis Path diverged to the left. I followed the Davis Path 
	south and stood atop the Boott Spur one more time. I recalled the hike 
	across the Lion’s Head in 1973 and remembered looking across at the solitary 
	figure standing here on this rock as the clouds streamed by directly above 
	his head; an image I have never forgotten. I was divorced now, but I 
	revisited my ascent of the Boott Spur on my honeymoon in 1974, and wistfully 
	remembered the hopes and dreams I carried with me during that hike. Moving 
	on, I continued down the Davis Path and enjoyed the view from the summit of 
	Mt Isolation before continuing down to rte 16 and hitchhiking back to 
	Pinkham. This was a fitting tribute, to visit the summit of my first 4000’ 
	peak, as well as the summit of number 48, climbing them both on a long 
	summer day hike. These two peaks are fitting bookends for the list of the 48 
	peaks, as Mt Washington is the highest peak and Mt Isolation is almost the 
	lowest save for one. I knew that change was on the horizon of my life; there 
	was an element of closure in this hike, and I both recognized and 
	accepted it, the melancholy of all things completed. Life is indeed grand 
	and manifold.
	 
	I left the State of New Hampshire in December of 1990. I departed with a 
	treasure trove of great experiences, yet there were a few sad memories as 
	well. I recalled the names of five friends who were no longer alive: Don 
	Doughty, Ron Michaud, Dan Quigley, Steven Cooney, and Ed Mainville. Those 
	five individuals shared trails and adventures with me over the years, and we 
	shared passages through the eras of our lives as well. I was grateful for my 
	life and for everything I had experienced in the mountains of the Granite 
	State; I lived a richer and fuller life because of those years in the 
	mountains and the people who were my friends. 
	 
	Everyone hikes according to their own dictates, including those that climb 
	all of the 48 peaks over 4000’ in New Hampshire and beyond. I contacted 
	Kevin Rooney, the person I mentioned earlier who had climbed Lafayette more 
	than eighty times, and asked him to answer two questions, what 4000’ peak 
	was his first and what was the final peak that completed his initial circuit 
	of the 48 peaks over 4000’ in New Hampshire. His first peak was Mt 
	Moosilauke and the last was Mt Carrigain. 
	 
	In the past two years, I found and followed an interesting website authored 
	by Dennis Paul Himes (http://www.cookhimes.us/dennis.htm). Dennis is an avid 
	hiker, his trail name is Cumulus, and he maintains a unique and 
	intellectual website that includes numerous trail logs and pictures. I 
	followed his logs as he neared the goal of completing the 48 summits. His 
	first climb was Mt Washington, the peak he climbed most often over the years 
	was North Kinsman, and the ascent that completed his quest was Moosilauke.
	 
	I could not suppress a smile after thinking about Kevin and Dennis, and 
	their first, last, and most climbed peaks when compared to mine. Dennis and I 
	both claimed Mt Washington as our initial summit, something that I imagine 
	is quite common among travelers who first come to the White Mountains. 
	Kevin’s first peak was Moosilauke, a mountain that was the final peak for 
	Dennis in his quest for the 48 and my most climbed summit. Kevin’s final summit of his first 48 was Mt 
	Carrigain, a summit I had climbed six times before finishing the 48, and 
	three of those ascents included an overnight on the summit. Dennis named 
	North Kinsman as his most visited summit and the only reason that North 
	Kinsman is not on my list of peaks ascended but once, is that I traveled 
	over the summit again when I climbed South Kinsman. These comparisons 
	illuminate one important point; the only correct way to accomplish the feat 
	is to ascend the 48 peaks in whatever order, or disorder, seems right for 
	you.  
	 
	Over those eighteen years when I hiked in the White Mountains, I stood on 
	the summit of Mt Moosilauke twenty times. Since I no longer hike, it will 
	remain as my most visited peak in the White Mountains for the rest of my 
	days.