 "Photo: Courtesy Photo")
My name is Thomas Gounley, and I’m a peakbagger. Of the hundreds of mountains that exist in the upper half of the Granite State, I have zoned in on 48 of them, and for the past two years have been checking them off my list like clockwork, at the expense of all the rest.
You can’t hike for long in the fabled White Mountain National Forest region of New Hampshire without being asked how many of “them” you have.
If uninitiated, you may glance confusedly at your hiking partners, or perhaps awkwardly fumble for your Nalgene while trying to remain nonchalant. I’ll give it to you straight. There are 48 mountains in New Hampshire that rise more than 4,000 feet above sea level (and meet a couple other qualifications that we won’t get in to). If you choose to hike in New Hampshire, you’re either a “peakbagger” – someone attempting to summit all of these “4000-footers” – or you’re among the crowd that decries the very existence of peakbaggers. There’s no middle ground.
As I’ve stated, I’m certainly in the former. I checked off 13 peaks in the week before beginning my freshman year at UNH (my first extended stay in the state), and I haven’t stopped since. One on a day hike here, two on a weekend overnight here, repeated over and over until I find myself with my current tally of 44.
Let me be frank. Yes, I do sometimes opt to not go with friends if they’re hiking more vertically challenged peaks. And yes, I will pretty much put my life on hold if someone makes plans to summit one that I haven’t done. (Speaking of which, I have Passaconaway, Whiteface, Waumbeck and Cabot left – give me a call if you’re heading out). But- and please hear me out- that doesn’t make me some kind of atrocious monster.
I refer to the 4,000s as old friends, probably because we share some pretty awesome memories. Who wouldn’t remember hiking Mt. Washington for the first time, and the feeling of superiority over those who drove up or took the Cog that comes with it? And is it possible to feel greater joy than summiting Bondcliff on a clear day, and having the one lone hiker sharing the summit with you offer to take your picture because he wants you to do the same for him?
I’ve hiked in rain and snow on these peaks. I’ve bruised ribs, and I’ve questioned my choice of hiking trails (not recommended: hiking down Huntington’s Ravine or the Flume Slide trails). Heck, I love these peaks so much that I took a job smack dab in the middle of them last summer.
Some say that peakbagging isn’t in the spirit of hiking. Shouldn’t there be joy in just being outside and on any old trail? Yes, there should be and there is. But why not seek out the best of the best? Though higher doesn’t always equal better when it comes to views, 90 percent of the time it does. Besides, some of us get an eerie kind of satisfaction from the longer miles and steeper climbs that are inherent in any quest of this nature. The satisfaction of hiking lies in the fact of knowing it’s a challenge.
Plus, while all the peaks on the 4,000 footers list are popular now, the list (and corresponding club within the Appalachian Mountain Club) was actually created to introduce hikers to some of the National Forest’s lesser-known sections. And it remains true today that, if you’ve checked off all the 4,000s, you’ve got a true education in the White Mountains.
So what are you waiting for? Start making plans for a White Mountain hiking excursion of your own. You might just see me out there, checking off those final four.
1 comments