The alarm started buzzing. It was 5:30am on December 22nd. Winter was already officially 5 hours and 41 minutes old. I hadn’t slept very well, as the entire night was filled with strange dreams related to broken limbs during summit attempts. Lying there, I checked the forecast again for what seemed like the 50th time in the past 3 days. Despite all my hopes, the prediction was still the same: rain.

The issue with attempting the 48 New Hampshire 4,000 footers in one winter is the unpredictable weather. Most of the time it manifests as sub-zero temperatures, blowing snow, and icy approaches. For the 22nd, 23rd, and 24th, the weather was predicted to be in the 40s and 50s with a 100% chance of rain. After letting out a disappointed sigh, I climbed out of bed and started getting prepared for the day.

During the weeks following our traverse, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  A few days after getting back to the comfort of my home, I had forgotten about the pain. Within a week I was ready to get out and hike again. A week after that I would have headed right back to the Appalachia trailhead for round 2 of the traverse if David has asked.  We ended up doing about 23.5 miles with our addition of The Perch and a bit of wandering to find the trail. There’s no denying the fact we made some errors, and we will adjust for future traverses.  Some things you just have to learn by doing.

Standing on the SE side of Mt. Monroe, we stared ahead at the path in front of us. The cairns had suddenly ended, and their trajectory led us directly over an icy slope to the southern base of Mt. Monroe. I thought to myself, “this can’t be right.” After checking the map, looking at a compass, and consulting Google Maps on our phones, we discovered that the path did indeed lead directly over the icy slope. It wasn’t until much later, when I was back in the comfort of my home, that I stumbled upon this quote from a 1969 AMC White Mountain Guide:

Do not attempt to pass Mt. Monroe to the Lakes of the Clouds Hut. The Crawford Path slabs the SE side of Monroe; in winter this face is generally a sheer slope of hard snow, reaching far down into Oakes Gulf, and it is difficult and dangerous to cross.