Hiking Cascade and Porter Mountains in the Adirondacks
Winter in the mountains is surreal. Growing up in Texas meant only seeing snow once or twice, and it was mostly ice. I am absolutely enamored by the winterscape in the northeast. From snow-capped peaks to the crunch of spikes in snow on the trail, to the summit sunsets that are more frequent with shorter daylight times. Selfishly I also enjoy having trails to ourselves and not heavy crowds.
This past week, we ventured up to the Adirondacks, a magical gem in New York that feels like New York’s best kept secret. It’s a long drive for many, and it’s not a national park, so it’s not extremely well-known. However, for hikers in New England, it’s a popular destination. Like the New Hampshire 48, there’s a list of 46 high peaks in the Adirondacks that results in accomplishment (and a patch, of course) if completed.
I’ve hiked a couple, but never in winter. Winter in the Adirondacks feels otherworldly to me because of my few trips up there. My first trip up was five years ago. One of my best friends who lived in Hawaii at the time sent me a picture of the Adirondacks and told me I should go. I made a day trip that weekend, which became the first of an annual fall foliage trip.
This trip, however, would be the first attempt of a winter trek in these vast mountains. We set our hearts on two of the 46: Cascade and Porter. After arriving in the early afternoon to a nearly empty parking lot, we set out on the 2.4 mile ascent to Cascade along the Cascade Mountain trail. The trail was packed down and clearly labeled. Right before the summit of Cascade, at about 2 miles, there is a y on the trail. One direction leading up to Cascade (head toward “privy”), and the other about .6 miles to Porter. We headed up Cascade first.
One of my favorite parts of winter hiking is the lowered probability of getting lost because you only have two options: follow the trail another hiker sweetly packed down for you, or dive into feet of untouched snow. Seems obvious.
Afterwards, Porter was a fast and beautiful jaunt with views of Cascade. I love ridgelines because you get to see how far your hike has taken you.
We headed down Porter the way we came up and the rest of the hike was a swift and smooth descent. It was also our dog Koah’s first two of the 46! After this trip, I’m already starting to plan the next. The 46 just might be the next hiking challenge we take on.
Should the ADK 46 be our next list to take on? Have you hiked any of the 46 high peaks?
Five Adventure Musts in Oahu, Hawaii
Find yourself in Hawaii for a week without an itinerary, but with a desire to adventure? On my second trip to Oahu, I made sure I saw all that the island has to offer. From açaí bowls to a birds-eye-view of the island, to local-recommended hikes, I left the island saddened to return to a New England winter, but with the promise of returning to experience it again one day.
Given the travel restrictions in Massachusetts over the past few months, the only state we can travel to (without quaranting upon our return) is Hawaii. With that, Hawaii has been on my mind.
Here’s my list of five musts when visiting the forever dreamy Oahu:
I absolutely love seeing places from a birds-eye-view. I’ve always been fascinated by it and every trip I take incorporates some form of this perspective (probably why I love hiking and flying so much). We flew over the Sacred Falls, Pearl Harbor, the Stairway to Heaven trail, the North Shore, Honolulu, and even the Makapu’u Lighthouse I write about next.
Flip through the pictures below to see Oahu through my lens.
Newcomers to Solo Hiking: 6 Perfect New Hampshire Hikes to Take on Alone
One of the perks of teaching is having the month of July off to travel. I spent one July a few summers ago living in southern New Hampshire with a friend. I was so pumped to live near the Whites, even though I had only hiked the Franconia Ridge a year earlier.
With my new proximity to the Whites, I set my sights on hiking. The only problem? My friend spent the summer working, so I was on my own. I had no problem traveling alone or exploring new places by myself, but hiking in unknown terrain with limited cell signal was not a habit of mine. How things would change in the coming years…
I didn’t hike a 4,000 footer once that summer. I was too afraid of the what if’s.
I look back now and regret how close I was to the mountains and how I didn’t take advantage of them. I did spend that July starting out what would later be a weekend regular: hiking alone in the Whites.
I researched short hikes that were clearly marked. I wanted to leave no room for error. Here are the hikes I did that summer (along with a few extras I did later on) that are ideal for first-time adventurers, low-on timers, beginner hikers, or short-on-hiking-pals trekkers:
Have you made it to any of these summits? Which ones do you plan to add to your list? Let me know if you’re going to tackle these summits soon.
4 Spiked Up Tips to Start Your Winter Hiking
Gear is crucial for those bitterly cold, outdoor adventures. As a gal from Texas, I was clueless about gear. I set out for my first winter hike a few winters ago with hiking boots and what I considered to be a thick jacket. Thankfully, my New Hampshire-native friend Kim came prepared.
We were heading to Camel’s Hump one weekend up in Vermont and spent the night before in downtown Burlington. As much as I love the mountains, I love quaint New England towns almost just as much. Kim encouraged me to buy microspikes, which I thought would be a frivolous purchase. I kept the receipt and the box they came in because surely I would not need them in November. In Vermont. In winter. Shockingly, I was wrong.
Camel’s Hump is easily recognizable from afar. It’s aptly named. As the third highest peak in the state at 4,083 feet, with a 2,500 foot climb, it wouldn’t be an easy trek in winter. Kim and I made our way slowly and as luck would have it (of course, not actual luck but Kim’s incredible expertise), a mile or so in, spikes were necessary.
I wobbled my hiking shoes into my new microspikes and I sure was glad I did. Not only was I uneducated about spikes, but about winter wear in general. Kim had an extra scarf and I found my ear warmers in my car. I looked like a marshmallow all bundled up at the summit.
It’s awesome looking back now on that first winter in New England and how naïve I was in the mountains. In the wintery wild.
Here are my four tips for anyone looking to dive into winter hiking (and not wanting to look like a marshmallow man):
1. Research
Search up the mountain you’re hoping to climb online on various platforms. I often look at mountains on Instagram under hashtags or locations, as well as read up on a handful of blogs for reviews. Reading AllTrails is also helpful for most recent hiking conditions. Fellow hikers help each other out by leaving a quick review (often times noting if spikes were needed).
2. Bundle Up
Winter hiking means a fuller pack, but it’s well worth the weight. I wear a base layer, followed by another layer under a winter jacket. Fleece-lined leggings and thick socks keep my legs warm and not boggled down on the trek. You often don’t realize how warm you’ll get on the hike, but going without an extra layer may mean discomfort at the summit, where conditions are drastically different than the first mile in.
3. Bring Spikes (and Snowshoes)
I don’t own snowshoes, and I’m not the biggest fan of carrying additional weight, so I often go without snowshoes even when it would’ve helped tremendously. As a result, I fall deep into snow (or as hikers say, postholing). Lessons have been learned and I often pick more popular trails that are likely to be packed down. Microspikes though will always be my go-to winter hiking essential. That trusty set I bought in Burlington five years ago is still holding on strong.
4. Check Weather Constantly
Growing up in Texas, everyone often joked that you can experience every season in a typical day in Texas. If you didn’t like the weather, just wait an hour. From an icy morning to 80 degrees and sunny all in a matter of hours. The irony is that I moved to Massachusetts and turns out, the same phrase is said up here. A morning snowstorm is entirely forgotten about by 11 A.M. Leaving us to wonder how we got a snow day when there were no remnants of the morning conditions left. The same mentality applies in the mountains. One minute you’re sweating in the sun, and in the next there could be torrential downpour and wind gusts that sweep you off your feet. It may sound dramatic, but on one beautiful, summer hike atop the presidentials in the Whites, it started hailing.
As a result, I frequently check the mountain I plan to hike days before and of course the morning of on https://www.mountain-forecast.com/. You enter in the mountain range or region, then you can tailor your search to which summit or area you plan to hike more specifically. I often lose services in the mountains, so checking this before I head on the trail is helpful.
Have you used any of this trips for recent winter hikes? What tips do you have to add for hiking in the winter? Let me know!
Twins Zealand Bonds Traverse
You know those mornings you’re so eager to wake up to? The ones where you wake up moments before your alarm in utter anticipation? One Sunday, this past October, was exactly that kind of morning for me. We cooked a hearty breakfast before dawn and loaded our packs for our adventure to snag my final 8 peaks of the 48.
North and South Twin
We parked at the North Twin trailhead at sunrise and began the two mile walk before the big climb. About a mile in, I turned on the trail and found myself encountering a moose face-to-face. A full-fledged, antlers as wide as the trail, moose. I felt pure awe. And shock. We slowly stepped backwards, off the trail, and watched him continue his Sunday morning stroll under he was out of our eye view.
I’ve patiently waited for a moose sighting for five years. To the point where I hoped one would cross the road when I drive past moose crossing signs on highways. In hindsight, it’s probably for the best I didn’t have my first encounter in that situation. Multiple trips to Maine, countless to the Whites, and even a two-week cross-country road trip out to Big Sky country didn’t help me cross off this bucket list item. This hike was off to an incredible start and it was only the first two miles of the day.
North Twin’s summit was well worth the arduous climb. I finally understood why hikers say the Pemigewasset wilderness is a Whites’ gem. The solitude alone was dreamy. We had each summit from North Twin to the Bonds to ourselves (aside from the finale at Bondcliff).
Zealand to the Bonds
From North Twin, we faced a muddy mile to South Twin, followed by a detour to Zealand where we were met with three relentless greyjays. Zealand was a tough addition to this traverse because we did it out and back before we headed to the Bonds. All the better for our return to avoid detours.
West Bond was incredible, but I started to hesitate at finishing this traverse due to daylight escaping us swiftly with Bond and Bondcliff still left on the itinerary. B carried me through the finish line with the descent down to Bondcliff. Honestly the views were jaw-dropping (fitting as we dropped hundreds of feet in elevation that we’d have to climb back up to get home). The bittersweet joy I felt heading into my final peak was met with glances over my shoulder to see that massive drop we made.
Bondcliff lived up to its hype and I couldn’t have picked a better day, partner, or peak to finish with. I set out to hike to 48 in August 2018 when I hiked up Lincoln and Lafayette with my roommates. On that hike, one of them said she’d love to hike the 48 before moving. I had never heard of the 48 before then, but I’m so glad that seed was planted that day because a little over two years later, I became an NH 48 finisher.
A 22ish-mile, ~7,000 ft gain, 15-hour day ended in the darkness of the Pemi wilderness. I don’t love night hiking, but it did present the opportunity of witnessing a mountaintop sunset on South Twin that did not disappoint. There may be more night hikes in my future to see sights like that again.
Until next time in the Whites.