The journey started unknowingly on the path to remote Magalloway Mountain in Pittsburg, N.H., during a summer day in 2000, a trek punctuated by seeing backroad moose and climbing a summit with a fire tower.
Finally, after many twists, turns and years, my wife Jan and I stood inside the fire tower atop the Smarts Mountain in Lyme and watched Mother Nature open and close her cloudy curtain on an October day last year as we gleefully ate a scone baked by a friend with a storied hiking resume.
The hike to the top of that 3,238-foot peak was the culmination of completing the “52 with a View” list, an outdoor odyssey of scenic New Hampshire climbs administered by Sandwich-based Over the Hill Hikers (overthehillhikers.blogspot.com/).
The 16-year pilgrimage to a patch of achievement mimicked our 48 4,000 footer club adventure. We didn’t find it; it found us. One day I did a search of stories on my computer about hiking and discovered I’d been to many of the mountains on the 52 list. I told Jan I was going to finish the list. She initially shrugged, but over time announced we should do it together — resulting in me climbing several of the peaks twice.
The things we do for love.
The checklist contains 52 sub-4,000 foot mountains, primarily in the White Mountains and Lakes Region, but also including Monadnock in southwest New Hampshire, central New Hampshire’s Mount Kearsarge and North Country peaks such as the Percys and Magalloway.
Compiled in 1990, the mountains are no easy walks in the woods. Some treks are steep and challenging. Almost all lead to glorious viewpoints. But over the years, some vistas have been muted by tree growth, and some peaks have been deleted and others added.
Nonetheless, it is a rewarding undertaking providing insight into a backyard you may have thought you knew.
Like coming upon Mounts Shaw and Roberts, part of the splendid Lakes Region Conservation Trust’s Castle in the Clouds Conservation Area. Shaw is the highest of the Ossipees at 2,990 feet with some fine Lakes Region and White Mountains outlooks from its perch, loaded with grassy trails. The trek to Roberts had us going by a massive trout pond, majestic horses and old homestead sites. There are some 30-miles of trails on that network to explore.
The lovely Three Sisters, on a flank of always impressive Mount Chocorua (also on the list), was another “who’da thunk it” outing that offered new perspective of familiar terrain. I’d climbed Chocorua a few times, but never took the so-called side trip to the tantalizing trio on Chocorua’s northern ridge. Each bare summit affords its own specialties like First Sister’s glimpse into a stunning landscape of lakes and mountains, or Middle Sister’s remnants of an old stone tower.
A slight diversion from a direct hike on Benton’s Black Mountain led to historic kilns used too make lime before heading up to its wondrous looks at Mount Moosilauke while yielding copious blueberries. With access to another Benton Range mountain and peak on the list, Blueberry, a short 20 minute drive away, we were able to also ascend that summit for a “two with a view” day.
However, not every hike resulted in stellar vistas. A foggy scramble up Square Ledge had us in the clouds with nothing to look at but each other, while Mount Hibbard was a nice jaunt through the ferns with a vegetation-limited outlook.
Mount Pemigewasset was unique for us coming upon hikers drinking beer for breakfast, while on Eastman Mountain we saw a rare trail sign typo.
Clearly though, the one with the most personal significance was 2,900-foot Mount Stinson in Rumney. We climbed that one in June 2015. The views atop the mountain tower over the Baker and Pemigewasset rivers. A ski trail, now overgrown, once graced the mountain, offering some 1,000 vertical feet of free-heeling fun. Concrete steps are left from a fire tower removed in the 1980s.
It was who was standing on those steps — that go my attention. It was the first hike for her after undergoing knee surgery for a torn meniscus. She had endured discomfort, physical therapy and far too much time hobbling around on crutches with her husband in tow.
She stood on those stairs, tears in her eyes because though the journey can be about the hikes, it is more often about those making those steps and with whom they take them.
Marty Basch can be reached at mbasch@gmail.com.