2025 Road Trip: Part 9 (Guadalupe NP + White Sands NP)

Guadalupe National Park, TX

Day 9
5.30.25

Six a.m. the next morning came very early for us, and even me, the enthusiastic hiker about to try and summit Texas's tallest peak, didn't want to get out of the tent in the dark. I told myself that it will be worth it and just to start the pack-up process, and I'd feel better. My one regret of leaving camp so early is that we had found such a nice spot with decent amenities, only to not have a chance to use them for dinner or breakfast...such is life sometimes.

The sky had become overcast overnight, with some spots shrouded in a misty haze as the cloud layer was barely off the ground. We packed up quickly and decided to forgo breakfast at this hour since I'd be bringing snacks with me on the hike anyway, and Yilin would be staying at the trailhead and usually likes to wait until a reasonable hour to eat.

Carlsbad Caverns and Guadalupe National Parks are conveniently right along the same mountain range, only about a 30-35 mile drive away, and with the roads being so deserted and straight, the trip passed quickly as the the light brightened and we made the turn toward Pine Springs campground, where the Guadalupe Peak trail sets off from.

The view as we approached was almost heavenly, with pockets of blue sky peeking through the mist, just to give a glimpse of some sunrise colors over my right shoulder. As I stopped to take a photo of the entrance sign, suddenly the sky was clear, and I got a view of the mountains in front of me, while the valley behind me was still misty.

Good morning to Guadalupe National Park

First light is always such a motivation for me

In the short time it took me to get my gear organized and snacks packed for the longest hiked I've done in awhile, the clouds (or fog I suppose) rolled in once again, blocking the grand view I had mere minutes earlier. I hoped this was just a case of undercast, and I would pop above the clouds at some point later in the day. This hike is about 8.4 miles, with 3000 feet of elevation gain, not unlike many NH 4000-footers I've completed in the past, however since moving to Maryland I think my legs have gotten a bit soft without a lot of good hiking options nearby. Also, I'd be climbing over 8k, and I expected to feel this quite a bit in my lungs since none of my travels had taken me this high on this trip thus far.

I began up the misty trail around 7:45, which had a pleasant cooling effect, and while much of the elevation gain of this trail happens in the first half, the grade was manageable with lots of switchbacks, and mostly gravel and sand underfoot, and a few ledgy patches here and there. I only saw a few hikers, but it was a quiet morning on the mountain, likely due to the cloudy conditions. After about 15-20 minutes, I started to see some sandstone cliff faces appear faintly in front of me, and I knew I'd be out of the cloud tops shortly, which gave me a boost of energy.

I turned the corner with the mountain to my left and the sun behind me to the right, and followed the trail slowly up and around, with the most fluffy sea of clouds you've ever seen filling the valley below. This was certainly fun now! And then behind me I heard the unmistakable sounds of a fast approaching hiker, whom I greeted and exchanged my awe at the beautiful scene we had before us this morning. I was happy to meet Nizar from Lincoln NE, and learn that he and I were on similar national park trips, but traveling in opposite directions. He was headed to Big Bend after this, and had just come from White Sands where I'd be going later this very day. We got some pictures of each other at this vista before I hiked on ahead and he stopped to enjoy some morning tea and breakfast.

Thanks Nizar for this cool shot!

Here's one of Nizar perched on the rock enjoying his tea

From here, I trekked back and forth along the switchbacks, enjoyed any moments in the shade, since the sun was doing a great job baking me even at the early hour. I should have expected as much since clouds in the valley like this occur when there's a temperature inversion, and it gets warmer with elevation rather than cooling down as usual. I was thankful for my new light sun hoodie that I found at REI before leaving on the trip, since I knew I'd be out in the desert sun at least a few times, and I know I'm bad about applying sunscreen.

Looking across the valley toward Hunter Peak

As I passed some forested patches on the mountain, I had to stop and smell the ponderosa pines—their bark smells strongly of butterscotch. Find the largest tree you can, and find a deep crack in the bark, and there you'll find the strongest scent. One of my favorite parts of hiking in the west!

Soon I spotted some lizards flitting around as I approached 8000', and I was certainly noticing the thin air at this point. My symptoms are that I tend to feel very sleepy, and of course my heart rate gets a bit out of control. I just had to give myself enough breaks to continue, and slow my pace a bit near the end. 

Desert Spiny Lizard

Because of this, I saw Nizar catching up again, and I guess all the marathons he runs give him the power and speed to get up above 8000 without too much trouble. We hiked together for a bit before he continued up to summit ahead of me, but I was happy to arrive before he left, and we got a chance to chat a bit more. He shared with me some of his photos and recommendations from his visits to Petrified Forest NP and Mesa Verde NP (the latter I was planning to visit in a few days), and I certainly felt the itch to do some more big hikes again after hearing his stories. He is originally from Iraq but came to Nebraska back in 2019, working in immigration law, and luckily has the opportunity to travel and explore many of the great places that we have here in the US. Happy trails and happy hiking, I'll be following along! You can follow his adventures at nizar01011900.blogspot.com.

These clouds blew me away overlooking El Capitan, just below Guadalupe Peak

At the summit with Nizar (and the weird triangle monument) 8,750'

Lucky Duck along for the ride

I enjoyed my lunch for a bit after Nizar sped off down the mountain, taking in the strange but beautiful landscape around me - half blanketed in clouds, and half exposed to the hot desert sun, and hardly a sound besides the light breeze in my face.

The trip down was mostly uneventful, only slowing down on portions of trail with uneven footing, but the rest of the trail was a pleasant grade to make fast progress. I passed many groups of hikers on their way up, and it was sooner than I expected that I once again entered the valley clouds. They had risen higher than on my ascent, but I welcomed this as I was feeling much too hot from the sun. It's like returning to an underworld.

Some trees have such character

I made it back to the car just after noon, spending about 4.5 hours on the mountain. While I don't consider myself a desert lover, I would have to rate this hike very highly, and especially my experience this day, with the interesting weather, and meeting a fellow hiker who seems to be even more passionate about it than me, which I don't encounter often.

Yilin had spent much of the morning gaining back the missed hours of sleep I robbed us of in the morning, but had enjoyed some brunch featuring leftovers from El Jimador the night before. I relaxed a bit, changed out of my hiking outfit into some comfy traveling clothes, and we stopped into the small park visitor center before planning out the rest of our day in New Mexico.

I wanted to check out a scenic overlook of El Capitan I saw on the map a few miles south of the park entrance, hoping that my clear view from the mountain into the valley would mean a clear view back up from the road. Turns out I was right, and we were treated to a grand and majestic view of El Capitan.

El Capitan, TX

From here, we decided to head up to alien-town, none other than Roswell, NM! Not a planned stop, but it seems like a place with so much UFO and alien lore that we were both curious to see what's going on over there.

Roswell, NM

We whizzed our way back north along US-62 through Carlsbad and then along US-285. Did I mention it's flat around here? Lots of oil, lots of small bushes, a lot of sand, occasional salt beds, but the big surprise was a number of large pistachio farms. Until this day, we didn't know that New Mexico is known for pistachio production, and it took several times passing the unnaturally-green groves of trees before we saw a huge billboard advertising PistachioLand, that we put it all together.

Arriving in Roswell 2 hours later, we were interested in seeing allegedly one of the most unique McDonald's in the world here, apparently UFO themed, as well as the Roswell visitor center, and the International UFO Museum and Research Center. Stepping out of the car, it was so hot, I think I'd be seeing aliens too if I lived here. Even the street lamps have alien eyes on them, a nice touch, or ominous clue, you decide. Also the inflatable tube-alien was the star of this block.

The Roswell visitor center was a bit disappointing (for humans at least), just not much to see except some knickknacks and gift shop items, so we walked over to the UFO Museum, to see what this was about. First step of course was to pin ourselves on the guest map.

The rest of the museum was mostly about alleged military sightings or strange encounters, with some borderline conspiracy films showing in a little theater, and a lot of alien sculptures. I don't know how much I believe, or even how much they believe, but the culture is thick with aliens and UFOs here, for better or worse. The gift shop has every item you can think of related to this topic.

Some extra eyes never hurt anyone...

McDonald's had some visitors outside, but sadly no green Big Mac or even a green milkshake :(

With our stomachs full of alien food, it was time to head to the east toward White Sands National Park. We were not keen on visiting here in the heat of the day, so the time spent in Roswell was actually a blessing, as we'd be arriving in White Sands around sunset time, where we could get a bit of a walk in before it got too dark. The drive over there would take us through the Sacramento Mountains on US-70 toward Tularosa. While crossing the mountains, we had a scenic drive up and around some hills, with higher slopes covered in ponderosas. Yilin even spotted some elk near the road at once point. Eventually we drove through Alamogordo, which it turns out is where PistachioLand is located, we had only seen a far-out sign for it earlier. Only at the last second did we realize we had passed the world's largest pistachio, so we had to turn around to make sure we didn't just hallucinate. But yes indeed, there was a 30-foot pistachio standing proud. Unfortunately our timing was not great as the accompanying shop was closed, but we can offer this sunset view of our friendly pistachio:

World's Largest Pistachio, Alamogordo NM

A few miles down the road and we began to see a strange sight on the horizon - it looked a bit like clouds, then mountains, but we weren't sure. Then I realized we were looking at what looks like huge snowbanks 10-20 feet tall way in the distance, but this was actually gypsum sand in the park ahead. Neither of us expected dunes like this to be above the road, though it does seem logical in retrospect.

White Sands National Park, NM

We arrived to the gatehouse just before 8pm, with the sun still sitting slightly above the horizon, lighting up the adjacent cloudscape brightly with pinks, oranges, yellows, and reds. I'm not sure if White Sands allows nighttime visitors, but if not, we we early enough to get in an evening stroll through the dunes, so we drove a ways in and stopped at the Dune Life Nature Trailhead. The trail from here forms a short 1-mile loop marked by plastic markers and occasional signposts featuring different animals that live in or around the dunes. I could see how easy it would be to get lost here without those markers or a GPS, so I was happy to have AllTrails loaded with our chosen trail and tracking us just in case.

8pm and still 88°, but we had a perfect breeze!

Due to the abundant sand here, and also its extremely fine nature, we chose crocs for footwear, since anything with socks seemed like we'd be finding sand in everything for days, if not weeks.

Just a side note on the sand here - it's gypsum crystals, which is quite rare in the world of sand. As I understand, much of the desert southwest was once an inland sea, and the area was uplifted millions of years ago through tectonic activity. The surrounding mountains are composed of gypsum from prior deposition during the time of the inland sea, and since gypsum dissolves in water, any rain or snowmelt washes these minerals downhill into the Tularosa basin, which has no natural outlet, so the water evaporates instead, causing the gypsum to recrystallize to form selenite crystals. Selenite is the crystalline form of gypsum, known to be fragile and brittle. We didn't see any examples, but the NPS website says there are some examples of extremely large selenite crystals as large as bicycle tires! It is the fragile nature of these crystals that cause it to erode into such a fine grained sand. Check out the website for more info if you're interested.

After walking on the sand for a few minutes, we discovered it's much easier (and very comfortable) to walk barefoot instead, so we carried our shoes instead, and let the cool sand filter between our toes. It was amazing how white it was, even being directly on it, you'd be fooled into thinking the trail is going over snow drifts, except for when you see some bushes and trees growing sporadically around you.

Sunset stroll

A tree made for sitting

Alamogordo lights in the distance

Trying to stay upright sliding down the last dune back to the parking lot

We did not see much wildlife during our short visit to White Sands, however I'd be wrong to exclude our dear friend, the stinkbug:

Look at the cute footprints!

We couldn't have asked for a better time to visit White Sands, I really think evening is the only safe time to visit some of these desert locations, otherwise you get fried. I would love to come back another time and explore a bit deeper into the park. I read there are monthly moonlight hikes led by a ranger, which seems like it would be a unique experience I'd like to try sometime.

This day has been very long already, but we still had a ways to go before our finally stop for the night. We were itching to get some rest in a building after camping out for a few days, and the general plan was to snake our way north toward Santa Fe, a city I have once visited but we were eager to check out again on this trip. It's known for being the highest elevation capital city in the US, and of course its stucco Pueblo Revival architecture style featuring stucco exteriors, rounded edges, vigas—protruding roof beams—which is highly unique compared to the vast majority of American cities. New Mexico also has a deep native American history, that we would explore in some museums soon. Due to the exorbitant price of AirBnBs in Santa Fe however, we decided to book a place in Albuquerque instead, and we'd make Santa Fe a day trip between our two nights in ABQ.

Yilin helped out with the driving this evening, which I was grateful after a long day including a substantial hike in the morning. Now completely in the dark, which I hate to do on a road trip through a beautiful state, we zoomed north on US-54, running parallel with a freight train for many miles, then passing through Carrizozo where we saw a fox trotting across one of the residential streets. We switched drivers again and headed toward I-25, and after too many hours found ourselves in the vicinity of our AirBnB around 12:30am. This was a gated and pass-coded community that was fairly complicated to navigate since it was all within one address, so my phone directed me to the wrong building 3 times before we realized the host had included a powerpoint document explaining which building to go to and all the entry/parking details that we failed to read. (Sorry to any residents we tried the wrong entry code, thinking it would be our home for the next two nights!)

By 1am we were in the door with our stuff and extremely ready for a good night's sleep, but we needed showers first, at least I did after my extremely sweaty hike up Guadalupe Peak. Stay tuned for my next post with all things Santa Fe!

Day 9 Route map: 537
Total mileage: 3129

2025 Road Trip: Part 3 (Franklin NC)

Franklin, NC

Day 3
5.24.25

Feeling well rested after a night in one of the cozy bedrooms of Benny's mountain house, we had a minor complication to our original breakfast waffle plans, that being the clear absence of a waffle iron. Benny wanted to make waffles with me since the two of us used to host a waffle event at Union together, every Tuesday night after my orchestra rehearsal, and it was always a big hit with the eccentric crowd there.  He was confident there was a waffle maker at the house before heading up, but we couldn't find it, so agreed to grab one from the store in town and do it the following day. Instead, he cooked us some traditional corn grits to get that full southern experience (his words).

Next was to head downtown and see what the shops had to offer. Since Franklin is right along the AT, it's no surprise that there is an outdoor gear shop here to cater to that crowd, as well as any other mountain activity lovers living there or visiting town. I had to be dragged out of the map section as usual. Next, we explored a vintage/antique shop that had many bizarre items for sale including rare specialty tools that Benny was eager to test my knowledge on, disturbing animal sculptures, limitless chicken and cat themed items, oversized drill bits, a frog army, old signs and license plates, even a "man cave" sign which I was tempted to buy until I saw the asking price. Instead, Yilin found two tiny wooden cats that look like hers (Erik and Watson for those who haven't met them).

It was a farmer's market day, so a number of tents were set up nearby selling various goods, and we happened to spot one vendor holding a tiny kitten in her arms behind the table. As Yilin went to get a closer look, a lady from the next tent asked if I was interested in any of her tomato seedlings. I said we were just checking out the kitten, and she said there's 8 more she's trying to get rid of??

Our kitten friend from the farmer's market

After wandering the shops a bit, we picked up a waffle iron from a surprisingly nice kitchen supply store, and stopped at Rathskellar Coffee Bar and Pub, where Yilin tried Ginger's Revenge, a blueberry flavored beer with a gingery aftertaste (so I'm told).

Benny drove us east to the trailhead of a waterfall hike nearby, locally known as High Falls. He told us there's a longer but flatter trail, or a shorter and steeper one, which he hadn't tried before. We went with the latter, which despite starting at a lake, was a downhill hike first. Once there, I finally realized the waterfall is supplied from an outgoing stream below a dam, not an incoming stream, explaining my confusion looking at the map earlier. The trail wasn't so bad at first, but soon was a steep stone staircase of boulders, descending over 700 feet in a mile or so.

Approaching High Falls

Roommates!

Upper falls

The falls has an upper section and a lower one, and as you hike down, there's an opportunity to view both, as well as rock-hop over to the opposite shore and sneak back to the upper falls as well. We did all of this, and Yilin while testing how slippery the wet rock was, discovered it was indeed quite slippery and dipped a shoe into one of the small pools. Only one toe got wet thankfully, and nobody was harmed in this experiment. Benny found a couple salamanders chilling with some tadpoles in small pool off to the side, and was brave enough to stick his phone camera underwater to get a picture.

"Science"

High Falls (Cullowhee Falls)

We climbed back up the stone steps, Benny occasionally identifying various types of mushrooms we spotted along the path. Next on our agenda for the day was to grab a few things at the store for a fried rice dinner, and I saw some fresh looking Brussels sprouts I couldn't resist, so we planned to roast those up as well that evening, while Benny fried up the rice on a huge outdoor griddle. With pleasant temperatures, we decided to eat on the screen porch and enjoy the fresh air. The biggest surprise for dinner was how convincing vegan scrambled eggs were. They are made from mung beans, and tasted nearly identical to any other scrambled egg I've had with fried rice.

Dinner together on the porch
(fried rice, balsamic roasted Brussels sprouts,
cucumber salad, and later ice cream)

Benny had intentions of folding some modular origami (our traditional pastime at Union) and possibly playing a few games of pool afterward, however we got too invested in looking through some old pictures I had saved from our time at Union, including a video of the fateful day I fell from a tree in an attempt to retrieve a stuck frisbee, captured by an unknown bystander. (As I recall, I had a sprained wrist for quite awhile afterward, which made an upcoming Taiko drumming concert much more painful.)

With our day full of interesting things coming to a close, we headed off to bed, excited to enjoy some celebratory waffles in the morning, after which we'd be heading west an a blistering pace to try to get some miles in.

Day 3 Route map: 50 miles (with Benny as our chauffeur)
Total mileage: 767

Mountaineering Trip to the PNW Part 2: Planning

With gear purchased and testing in progress, the next step was to learn as much as possible about the mountains we were planning to climb.  There is nothing I hate more than going into a trip unprepared.  It's one thing if you're on a short summer hike on the east coast, but a winter expedition to volcanoes in the Cascades is a big deal.  Initially, our plan was to try to hit two state high points: Mt. Hood (11,250) and Mt. Rainier (14,409).

It was in this planning phase that I discovered that my ascent up Borah Peak in Idaho (12,667) from May 2015 was in fact a bust.  Socked in with clouds, I had made it to a false peak just above Chicken-out Ridge, nearly a mile and 1000 vertical feet from the actual summit.  This began clawing away at my insides, and I needed to get back to that mountain and give it another shot.  I asked Noah his thoughts on it, and he said "sure, put it on the list!"  I may have left out the fact that it was 700 miles away from Mt. Hood.

Borah

So Hood, Rainier, and Borah.  I was almost more focused on Borah at this point, but Noah was focused on Hood, so I figured we would eventually get all the information we needed with frequent "war meetings" as he puts it.  After looking into Rainier for a few nights, I had a gut feeling that was bad about it, so I told Noah that I thought it was outside of our range to pull it off, and I just didn't feel right about it. I felt good about Hood and Borah, so we continued our research on them.

Borah has a simple way up, and that is to follow the trail from Birch Springs Road in Custer Co., then follow Chicken-out ridge to the summit.  My memory of the route from 2015 is still quite vivid, and looking at past pictures and route maps, I felt comfortable leading a climb up there, so long as we both had appropriate gear.

Hood was more complicated since it was a new target for both of us.  South side routes were by far the most common, but near the top of Hood is where several routes diverge, and have a vast range of technical difficulties.  The two common routes are the Pearly Gates and the Old Chute.  The Old Chute cuts off to the left and avoids a big hazard called the bergschrund, just above the Hogsback, which we thought to be a good idea since neither of us is trained with rope skills and crevasse rescue.  Best to just avoid that altogether and climb to the left of it.  In either case, we knew we were in for a climb that approaches 45° slope (100% grade) while going through the chutes.

Old Chute (green) and Pearly Gates (red) from the Hogsback.
Courtesy cascadeclimbers.com

I sought advice online for some other climbs that we could do in the area in case of bad weather during the week I was planning to spend out there.  Someone suggested Mt. Saint Helens via Worm Flows, so I looked into it.  At 8,366', it was considerably lower than the other objectives, but still with an ascent over 5000 feet involved.  That would be a good starter for me, considering I would need to get acclimated to higher elevation for a climb of Mt. Hood.

Mt. Saint Helens, courtesy Noah Pappano

At this point, we agreed on Mt. Saint Helens, Mt. Hood, and Borah Peak for our big climbs on the trip.  The main focus was Hood, though I was irritated by my false summit attempt on Borah, it became the primary objective for me.  It is strange how planning a trip like this becomes more than a logistic problem, and almost an emotional one.  Some mountains speak to you, and they lure you in.

I managed to get some time off from work, and I got it to match up with my weekends, allowing me 9 consecutive days!  The plan was that I would fly to Portland, OR and Noah would drive up from Arizona starting a few days prior.  From there the climbing would begin (assuming good weather).

Noah decided he wanted to rent mountaineering gear from one of the shops in Portland to save a bit on money.  The reason I bought outright is because I see myself doing big climbs like this in the future, though I'm not sure where Noah stands on that spectrum.  (Perhaps opinions have changed after the trip...)  I would rent a helmet since I don't own one, and snowshoes because I couldn't figure out how to pack them inside the bag for the flight.

In the week before my flight west, I began checking the mountain weather and avalanche sites, and I began to see a big problem, and that was a good 3 or 4 days of heavy snow in the PNW.  As our research had taught us, avalanche danger is high during storms as well as the day or so after the storm.  With limited to no avalanche experience, we wanted to minimize that danger as much as we could.  The best option, it seemed, was to go to Borah first, since weather was fair over Idaho during the storm over the Cascades.

The way the weather was shaping up, it looked like the whole plan was going to be reversed: Borah, Hood, then St. Helens.  Not a horrible plan, but the elevations were not in my favor, coming from a mere 200 feet above sea level.  I wasn't terribly concerned for Noah, since he was coming from 7000 feet in Flagstaff.  Thankfully, the temperatures weren't quite what I'd call frigid, though Idaho was noticeably cooler than the west coast, where temps were hovering around the 40s - 50s.

A trip report of Borah Peak will be in Part 3.

Mountaineering Trip to the PNW, Part 1: The Backstory

As someone who has gone longer and bigger with my hikes over the past few years, a mountaineering expedition still loomed above as an intangible concept.  Well, I suppose that all changed over this winter when in September my buddy Noah from Baxter SP trail crew told me to come climb Mount Hood in February.  I was reluctant as it seemed like a logistic nightmare, especially with a full time job acquired after finishing my 2015 road trip.  I agreed that I would climb Mt. Hood at some point in the future, but with no timestamp to speak of.

Nearly a month later, after tossing the idea around for awhile, I decided I was going to do it. Logistics could be figured out, but Mount Hood was something I wanted in my life, and what better a time than in February, when cabin fever is going strong? On October 16, 2015, I messaged Noah:

"I've had enough of this life.  I've decided I am coming out to Oregon as per your request.  Which week in February would you like?"

It was a change in mentality for me, as I rejected the idea that it was something outside my reach.  I had climbed over 12k before, and I would have time and funds to buy and test out additional climbing gear over the winter.  They say the white mountains are a great place to train for much larger climbs, at least in regards to the ferocious weather.

Mt. Hood

Over the next month or so, I got mountaineering boots and crampons to accompany my ice axe and leash I had gotten last year.  I went with La Sportiva Nepal Evos, which have many good reviews amongst climbers, and because of the stiff sole, can accommodate step-in crampons and make crampon techniques less tiring during a climb.  As for crampons, I went with Black Diamond, a reputable brand in this segment.  I had a good idea of Black Diamond's quality from my ice axe so far, and I felt sound in my decision to stay with the brand.

La Sportiva Nepal Evo boots!

Black Diamond Sabertooth Pro crampons

It was awhile before I was able to try out any of this gear because the winter began so mildly and with hardly any snow.  Finally, in December I was able to test out gear in western Maine.  Baldpate Mountain and Old Speck were the first mountains to get the thorough test of my gear, and they performed beyond expectations.  The stiff boots are quite strange to walk in until you get used to them.  Over time, I've noticed that the ankle softens up a bit, which is more comfortable yet still provides the support needed for climbing steep slopes.

Over the winter hiking season prior to leaving for Oregon, I got in about 40 miles of testing and training in with my boots and crampons.  They make SUCH a difference compared to my Merrell Moabs, which I have hiked in almost exclusively so far, even in the winter season.  Normally, I am not a fan of boots for hiking, however with these boots as part of my gear, winter climbs are much more enjoyable, and they take my capabilities up a notch with the crampons.

Old Speck: A winter sunrise

Sometimes crazy good things come of not so great things.  I consider this such an instance.  The original plan was simple: a nice winter hike of Old Speck in an attempt to summit where in 2014 Eliot and I had turned around after three miles in hopes of survival.  Old Speck has been a special mountain to both of us since we both first climbed in summer of 2011.  I have been back a few more times than he, but I think we can agree it holds a special place in both of us.

The proverbial monkey wrench in the situation is of course being asked to attend work the day that this adventure was planned.  I agreed to an afternoon of work in hopes that I could squeeze in a small hike in the morning in lieu of Old Speck.  As I drove home on Tuesday evening, my frustration of the day's plan being squashed brought me to the conclusion that I was still going to get my summit in…just much earlier.  I would do a sunrise summit of Old Speck.  As any guy with a pal would do, I called Eliot up to see the interest level.  Within seconds, there was agreement, though I had to emphasize my choice of mountain to him.

With Baldpate under our belts from last week, we assumed a similar ascent time of 6 hours.  Sunrise was at 7:20am.  That meant starting the hike at 1:20am.  That meant driving out at 10:20pm that night.  That meant hiking a 4000 footer on no sleep.  My insanity was confirmed.  But sometimes you just need to take life my the throat and climb that goddamn mountain for sunrise.

We met in Belfast in case I would need to go directly from the hike to work.  In order to get to work by 1pm, we'd have to be off the mountain by 10am at the latest.  That is cutting it close, but I knew we could descend faster than we could ascend, so I assumed we could pull it off.  I had Eliot drive because he was raging with energy.

Three goofy hours later, we arrived at Grafton Notch once again.  We began getting our stuff together, and it was then I realized a crucial error on my part.  I had left my water bottles filled with boiling water at home.  And my gaiters.  Eliot had a stove to melt snow, thankfully, though soon that was a dead end because we had no pot.  In such a situation, it is hard to balance reason with my severe case of summit fever.  Eliot had 2.5 liters of water, which in the end we decided would be enough for both of us to make it to the top.  We finished with gearing up despite wasting nearly an hour trying to figure out how to deal with the water problem.  I was expecting that we would not get sunrise, but I was okay with that.

Eliot climbing the lower part of the trail

We began the climb with crampons on from the start, and the ease that they provide it staggering.  No slipping whatsoever, and all the energy goes into up, up, and up!  It was not long before we made it to the Eyebrow Trail junction, roughly 1.1 miles in.  The ledges appeared, and we turned off headlamps to look at the stars.  If you ever hike on a clear night, just turn off the light for a bit and look up.  You won't regret it.  We have an incredible sky.

It was around now that I began to notice the effects of the canned coffee Eliot had downed at the start.  There was a raging animal of speed and precision ahead of me instead of an Eliot that I was coercing into every next step, which was the situation on our previous -20°F winter attempt on Old Speck.  In any case, the energy between us was bubbling, as we wanted our sunrise quite badly.  We did some quick math at this trail junction to determine our ETA for the summit.  Assuming a relatively constant pace, we were going to be nearly two hours EARLY.  Which is a tricky problem because staying warm even at 16° means staying moving.

We pushed on with some speed because we didn't want to miss it in case the going got hard, but not 100% because of the aforementioned problem.  There were periods of mostly calm in the forest mixed with some worrying bouts of wind, warning us of what was to come later.

The spot we had reached in the winter of 2014 was still stuck firmly in our minds.  It is a clearing with one rock and a small tree.  We had bashed a semi-frozen water bottle on that very rock to break up our remaining half a liter of water and put some melted snow in it.  It was nearly evening on that day, and I had not be so afraid of frostbite in my life.  Ten seconds of exposed skin was enough to cause numbness and pain.  The thought of passing this spot was overwhelming as we climbed.

Crescent Moon over "the Nubble" (as coined by Nathan)

Like many places on this mountain, that very clearing (we call this the Nubble) appeared out of nowhere.  We had made it to our turn around spot.  It was 4:50am.  A crescent moon had risen in front of us with a planet just below it.  I felt alive; I felt like perhaps there was a connection to the universe, whether we call this spiritual or not.  There is no way I can accurately describe how it felt to arrive at this location.  It's not the summit, but it has such vivid memories of frigidness, pain, battling of decisions, and utter survival from winter of 2014.

We took a moment to take it all in, and realize that from here, we were pushing further than we had as a team before.  I had ascended to the summit in another winter trip up here, but to go with a climbing partner with whom there is a rich history makes it different; it makes it better.  I had Eliot lead the way from here to the top, as it is his honor to make his first winter ascent of the mountain.

There is a ledge that the trail passes on the left, and immediately after a lefthand switchback.  This had been completely snowed in when I summited in March 2014, and one of the my climbing partners for the day had sunken in to his chest, and we had to pull him out by packing the snow around him with snowshoes first.  On the descent, we slid down the slope instead of taking the switchback, which was truly fun with there are feet and feet of snow beneath you.  This spot is just below an exposed section, so we bundled up with extra layers.  (See, we've learned to do this before getting cold, as opposed to once we were already cold like in the past, and the payoff is immense.)

The time was 5:50am, and we made it to the summit of the mountain.  My seventh time standing here, and Eliot's second.  The summit tower also comes out of nowhere, and we were surprised at how close it seemed to the turn-around spot from 2014.  Could it have been possible to summit on that very cold day?  Perhaps conditions can make that much of a difference.

Tower in range...

We could hear the winds howling on top of the tower as we celebrated having completed our goal of summiting Old Speck in the winter, and not missing the sunrise.  It was still mostly dark, but with the slightest tinge of lighter blue on the southeastern horizon.  And of course the crescent moon.

We wanted to check out the tower, but first we applied some layers because of the ferocious winds we could hear.  Slowly, we made our way up the ladder, crampons on because all the ice.  Once above the trees, I couldn't hear a thing from Eliot.  He had gone first, with a ski mask, and opened the door to the platform on top.  I followed, and soon discovered I needed a ski mask.  I could hardly hold on, the winds were so strong.  The strongest I've experienced, I believe.  We did not stay long, though by shouting at whisper distance, I was able to say I'd like a few photos of each other.

(I borrowed Eliot's mask)

After coming to the ground, the issue now was how to stay warm for an hour and a half until the sun rose.  We debated going to check out Speck Pond, which was 1.4 miles along the back side of the mountain, but I didn't feel like potentially missing the sunrise, so I voted that we go past the summit on the Grafton Loop Trail just a little bit to keep ourselves moving.  No one had been here and the snow was soft and powdery.  After a bit, we turned back toward the summit, just now realizing the slope we had just descended was significant.  But it kept us warm.

We alternated jumping around, eating some snacks, and running in circles, and going up and down the tower, to stay warm, since the sky had grown a bit brighter to include some of the brightest reds I've ever seen in nature.

The snow bits falling off the tower looked like a meteor shower in my photos because the flash was on.  I found that gave the best results of the colorful sky and getting the snowy trees in the foreground.  I was also occasionally hit was some of these small bits of snow and ice.

I was in awe, not merely because it was filled with beautiful colors, but because I had finally outsmarted nature to summit a mountain without being socked in with clouds.  Being able to see so far from a mountain is special.  Everything felt special.  I had gone out of my way to do a crazy hike, and this was the payoff.

Moon and Planet

As it neared 7:20, we decided to get ready and climb the tower.  I went first this time, but I was too late.  I topped the trees and found the sun partially above the horizon.  I was dazzled with pinks and oranges and reds as I climbed.  All I could manage was shouting "we're late" to Eliot before I stopped mid-climb just to gaze and let the sun engulf me.  Eventually, I gained control and made it to the top of the tower.

Sun was early to the party

I looked in all directions toward mountains that I have been on, mountains that I would like to be on, and of course the first light hitting all of these peaks.  Mount Washington was initially one idea I had had for hiking that day, and to look over at it was stunning.  Between the gusts of wind that nearly knocked me over, I shouted to Eliot what the mountains were, and I think it was here that we decided that we will do Washington in the winter, perhaps next season when we are both around.  The air was so crisp and clear that it appeared so close.  We had seen a haze of the Presidentials in 2011 when we first climbed Old Speck, but it was clear to us now that it was indeed.

Mahoosuc Arm, Baldface, Carter Range, Presidentials (close to far)

We looked behind us to see the triangular mountain shadow.  The same very phenomenon that I had seen on Katahdin in October.  It was so cold that my camera battery could only manage a few photos before dying, then I'm place it on my skin to warm up for a few minutes.  Eliot got the shadow on his camera thankfully, though it will be forever stored in my memory.

Mountain shadow

We stayed long enough for the sun to hit eye level on the ground, and we could feel its warmth even on a cold day like today.  The color of light cast on the trees behind us as we faced the sun was unique.  Perhaps just that it was the first light of the day to light up these trees.  Eliot went up once more to the tower to get some photos.  I warned him to keep his gloves on this time, since I had to blow on them to get the feeling back last time because he left them out for too long.  Lessons, lessons.

Looking east

The sun

The morning sun gave a boost of energy that brought us down the mountain with considerable speed.  Even having climbed up all night, now in the light, we felt fresh.  (I think?)  We were doing well on water, likely because it's so hard to get enough in when it's cold out.  I had eaten some frozen croissants on the summit, which were nearly tasteless, but felt good to eat.  And some chocolate.  Always chocolate.

Beside the mountain being relentless in its descent, things went smoothly, and we kept looking back as the sun was rising over the mountain, making all the snow-covered trees glint like nothing ever does.  I tell you, that's my favorite part of winter hiking - it's the glint on the snow when the sun is out.

Baldpate Mountain, Table Rock toward the bottom

All the places we remembered on the way up flew by as we rocketed down.  I took off the crampons as I found it very challenging to walk without catching them on rocks under the not-so-deep snow.  I proceeded to slip and slide most of the way, which was killer fun.  We had the clock ticking, hence the motivation to go so quickly.

Looking up toward the summit from the ledges

Eliot at the ledges near the Eyebrow Trail jct.

We saw a few people on their way up as we neared the bottom, some more prepared than others it looked.  We hoped that they had some warmer layers for all body parts because it was quite unpleasant on exposed skin for us.

The Eyebrow

At 10:10am, we got to the base of the mountain, exactly 8 hours after we set off the night before.  The satisfaction of doing such a hike is just the best.  I got to see the best sunrise in my life, with my favorite climbing partner, on my favorite mountain.  All on a day that I was asked to work.  The celebration continued in the car as we removed the gear and began the drive east.  The ETA on the GPS was giving us mere minutes to spare before 1pm, my scheduled time to work.

For some reason, Eliot was still raging and awake, so I let him drive back.  I however, despite normally being the one with excess energy, did not last very long in the conscious world.  I slept on and off during the drive.

I arrived at work with 1 minute to spare, which I used to get out of climbing wear and into EBS wear.  I'll be honest, I was not the most enthusiastic that afternoon.  The simplest tasks were a mental challenge, but I declare it all worth the trip.  As Eliot made me aware, I had picked a task that used every last minute of my free time that day, and that is something I am proud of.  I promptly fell asleep after making it home that evening.  Yes, 35 hours is a long time to be awake, even with some breaks while your pal drives you to work.  No, I would not have rather done anything else.  WIth this hike, I officially declare the 2016 hiking season here!

Hike Details

Miles hiked: 7.8 (including going passed summit a bit)

Time elapsed: 8 hours

Total ascent: 3000'

(Old Speck Trail both ways)