For some, Huntington Ravine is the ultimate challenge. For others, however, it is merely a stepping stone on a path to greater things. To be clear, there are no “greater things” than what we have in New Hampshire, but the facts are, much bigger things do await the father-son team on this hike up Mt Washington’s Huntington Ravine — arguably the most challenging trail in the White Mountain National Forest. On lead for this adventure was Redline Guide Debra McCowen. She also penned this rather detailed summary!
Today’s guests were a father and son from Maryland who’ve been working on visiting state high points. Dad has already completed 42 of the 50 State High Points — which means the objectives are getting harder.
In particular, on this trip he said he’s training for Idaho’s Borah Peak (elevation 12,662′), which is ranked among the top 10 in difficulty among State High Points and is known to have some Class 3 scrambling on the standard route to the summit.
To prepare for this, he wanted to hike Huntington Ravine, a Class 3 scramble route up Mt. Washington, the highest peak in the Northeast. He and his teenage son had no trouble on the slabs, and as we neared the top of the ravine, he expressed sadness that this part of the hike was almost over.
After our hike up Mt. Washington (also a State high point, but one that he’d hiked before by an easier route), he wanted more, and we gave him some recommendations for a few more Class 3 routes to try in the Whites before he returns home.
I should note that a big concern today was the weather. It was unusually hot and humid, with visibly poor air quality. (Air quality warnings aside, it’s never good when you can actually SEE the air you’re breathing.) There were also thunderstorms in the forecast for later in the day.
When I noted that I could definitely feel whatever air pollution we were breathing in with the sweltering heat, he joked, ‘You Yankees are soft’ to which I replied, ‘Come back and say that in February!’ He delivered a few more dad-joke-level zingers throughout the day, though the conditions were definitely no joke! In two different instances, we stopped to assist fellow hikers on the trail who were struggling with the heat.
One of them we found in Huntington Ravine, more than halfway up the slabs but unable to find his way. We showed him the route and made sure he got to the top, then sat with him in the shade of the big cairn, ensured he had some electrolytes and water, and were fortunate enough to encounter some nice people who offered to give him a ride down the auto road. We walked with him to their vehicle and made sure he was seated in the shade of the hatch with access to cool water before we continued on to the summit.
The second struggling hiker we encountered was on our descent of the Lion Head Trail, and though not far above treeline, he, too, appeared to be having difficulty with the heat. We provided some electrolytes, stayed with him while he took a rest with some water, explained the hazard of afternoon thunderstorms, and advised him not to go beyond Lion Head.
Despite these stops (plus standing in line for the obligatory summit sign photo and visits to all three summit gift shops), our guests completed the hike in under 8 hours — fast enough to be almost back to Pinkham Notch by the time we heard the first rumble of thunder, and beat the rain.
On the trail, Dad also shared some stories about peaks he’d climbed in the Cascade Range and said that after Borah Peak, he sees Oregon’s glaciated Mt. Hood (elevation 11,249) in his future. He also plans to return to Minnesota for Eagle Mountain (elevation 2,301′), which was snowed out on his previous attempt and visit Montana’s Granite Peak (elevation 12,799′).
He’s uncertain yet whether he will attempt the toughest three glaciated peaks: Washington’s Mt. Rainier (elevation 14,410′), Wyoming’s Gannett Peak (elevation 13,804′), and Alaska’s Denali (elevation 20,320′).
His son said, “That may be up to me.”
It was a great day and a great hike, and we certainly wish both father and son luck on their future adventures! —Debra
