67 in 67, Hike #10: Mount Field, Mount Tom, New Hampshire

Hike #10: Mount Tom, Mount Field & Mount Avalon

Elevation: 4,051 (Tom); 4,340 (Field)

Date: August 13, 2013

Location: Crawford Notch, New Hampshire

Distance: 7.2 miles

Time: 4:56 (41:07/mile)

I think there’s always a point during a long vacation when you pass the halfway mark and realize you’re counting the days remaining instead of the days gone by; when you start thinking about the work coming up instead of the work you left behind; and when you start thinking about the best way to spend the remaining time.

This was the context when Sara and I awoke on a cool day that reminded us that it wasn’t just our vacation winding down, but summer as well. While it would have been nice to stay under the covers, we wanted to make the most of the time we had left. So by 10:00 a.m. we’d already gotten ready, driven through Crawford Notch, and had time for Sara to ask an Appalachian Mountain Club employee to help her figure out where the trailhead was while I dilly-dallied in the truck in order to not lose Man Points by asking directions. As we set out, we quickly came to the booth that many trailheads have, although this had only warnings about leaving no trace and hikers’ responsibilities, but it lacked a map. Although we had one with us, it seemed markedly incomplete.

Pop quiz: what's missing from this picture?

We were hiking Mount Field and Mount Tom, which would complete hikes in this section of mountains. We also weren’t sure if it would be the end of this year’s hikes. The first leg, on the Avalon Trail, was easy, allowing for conversation, quick pace, and a chance to warm up a bit despite the occasional spitting rain and cool humidity. When we hit a trail intersection and switched to the A-Z Trail, it climbed steeply and the chit-chat ended, the sweating started, and the humidity sucked the life out of my legs.  

I tried to lose myself in thought, but the main topic in my head wasn’t a pleasant one. An older woman hiking a long section of the Appalachian Trail became lost in Maine. Although she was very experienced, no one could find any trace of her despite being able to significantly narrow down the zone where rescuers were searching. At the previous intersection, Sara and I encountered a through-hiker heading from Maine to Georgia instead of the normal route from south to north. He was familiar with the area rescuers were focusing on and we speculated about what might have happened: here’s someone nearing the end of a great experience, who is well-seasoned in hiking, and is suddenly gone, leaving loved ones behind. Presumably, there was some point when she was hopelessly lost, with a series of increasingly panicked decisions and actions. After she was out of food and too weak to continue, she must have found herself at a point where she knew she was dying and left with the saddest of thoughts. Her tragedy unfolded in solitude, and constituted a morbid topic to focus on as I trudged ever higher, distracted from my discomfort by thoughts of someone’s much worse fate. A couple of months later, as of the writing of this, there’s still no sign of her.



Eerie stillness near the summit of Mt. Tom, NH



I shook loose from my thoughts as the terrain began changing. As we neared the crest of the trail we began easing up on our effort. I re-engaged with Sara at that point, and the trail leveled out near a spur to the summit, making for a good spot to break. We snacked and talked amidst an eerie scene. The forest was still, and filled mostly with dead pines, moss, and bare branches pointing skyward. The fog left us feeling further isolated and emphasized the silence. A family we’d repeatedly leapfrogged came upon us again and continued on the spur to the peak of Mount Tom.

The father attended summer camp in the area as a kid, and was enjoying the chance to share the area with his family, who was from Pennsylvania. It was the last day of their vacation, and the teen-aged son was bonding with his dad. The teen-aged daughter was another story, not feeling the warm-and-fuzzies, and barely containing her dislike of hiking. Mom appreciated the sentiment, but her knee was giving her trouble, which would be the means to a compromise. It would prohibit their continuing on to Mount Field and shave an hour or so off of their hike. 



Mount Tom's summit view



We gave them space before continuing on to the summit ourselves. When we did, we resumed a conversation going on intermittently for months about possibly making some life changes. Enough time gets sunk into our work, workdays, and house, yet that’s not where we’d prefer to spend it. This hardly makes us unique, but we’d been discussing how to set up a situation to more easily spend time where we feel most fulfilled.


Maybe we don’t need to own a home that requires time and money that precludes doing other things. Maybe we substitute it for an apartment and use the money on a vacation home. Most people think of owning a primary home as their base, and they radiate outward to new places on vacations. Maybe we’d do the opposite, with an apartment as a way station. Maybe a smaller home on Cape Cod would be a place we could feel more alive, with easy access to be there more often. And maybe the mountains become a place for longer backpacking trips instead of renting condos and doing day hikes. Maybe this sort of lifestyle also is a way to expose my daughters to the idea that you can chart your own unique course in life, and there are options on what that looks like. Maybe, in doing so, they become exposed to different lifestyles and jobs, and those experiences impact them. Maybe one spends a summer as an AMC employee, welcoming people to a hut and helping others have their own experiences. Or maybe she spends a summer in college working on Cape Cod, with timeless, classic summer memories she remembers fondly for years. Or maybe the art community there captivates one, and she’s comfortable with a small apartment and cobbling together a couple of jobs to sell her jewelry or paintings, loving the niche she carves out for herself.



Better view and weather atop Mount Field, NH



These were the bigger picture things we pondered as we hiked on from Mount Tom’s summit to Mount Field’s. We also talked of the nuts-and-bolts details of such a situation. Something can be appealing in concept, but if the details are obnoxious then it doesn’t really work. I don’t want to constantly be wondering whether I’ll have the clothes or groceries that I need, nor do I want to live out of a suitcase for the next ten years. So we talked about a lot of this, and before we knew it we were standing on the summit of Mount Field, completing the eighteenth 4,000-foot summit. The view wasn’t great, so we had some food and continued on.





Takin' a break on Mount Avalon

Shortly after, as we descended, we saw a spur to the summit of Mount Avalon. At 3,350 feet of elevation, Avalon isn’t a big mountain in comparison to the two we’d already climbed that day. But when we climbed the final rocks, we found the most breathtaking views of any of the day’s summits. The rocks created natural couches for us, so we lingered. We munched on more food, admired the views, and relaxed. The sun, which fought through the clouds about an hour earlier, warmed our skin. While we could have remained for another hour, a part of us became restless and we moved on.

As we finished our loop and came back to the Avalon Trail and the last 1.3 miles to the trailhead, I figured we could easily finish by 3:30, with a total time of 5.5 hours. But Sara was determined to hit a 3:00 p.m. ending time. She began running and I followed suit. The terrain was muddy and we ran, hopped, scurried across wet tree trunks, and slid our way along at a good clip. At one point, we came to a river. Three women were relaxing and cooling their bare feet in it when we burst out of the woods on one side, nimbly navigated our way across, and disappeared into the trees on the other side. I heard them as we receded into the trees, and they thought we’d been running at that pace for the entire hike. They were amazed and I had no urge to go back and clarify. Sara’s prediction proved correct, and at 2:56 we emerged from the woods at the trailhead, done with our hike and ready for some relaxation. 

Sprinting to the finish line!



That evening, after showering off the grime, we chowed pub food at the Red Parka, a place catering to locals and the après ski crowd. It had a casual and fun vibe, and we talked a little more about our hike, our possible upcoming lifestyle changes, bigger hikes next year, and the tasty microbrews in front of us. Alistair Humphreys is a guy who was recognized as National Geographic’s adventurer of the year. It wasn’t for something crazy such as a solo traverse of Antarctica by bike or crossing the Pacific in a raft pulled by dolphins or running seven marathons on seven continents in seven days. Rather, it was for his premise of “micro-adventures”. This is basically about Average Joes trying to make the most of the time they have and the places they have access to. In essence, it was an award for promoting the very kinds of things we’re trying to do. Over the next several months, we’ll see how our own version of that winds up looking.

See you on the trail,

Jay Bell, AKA Rock Hopper