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The early morning sunshine on this hike was a sign of a great time to come.

10.4 miles round trip (3.8 miles to Madison Hut; 0.4 miles from the hut to the Mt. Madison summit; 1 mile from the hut to the Mt. Adams summit)
6-8 hours
Difficulty: Weekend Warriors

Valley Way is the access route to Mt. Madison and Mt. Adams most travelled by, and for winter hiking that makes all the difference. The easiest and most direct route to Madison Hut, hikers come one and all for day hikes to the aforementioned summits, overnights at the Valley Way Campsite or above treeline (winter only), to venture into the Great Gulf for ice climbing, or to begin treks across the Presidential Range. Whatever your pursuit, Valley Way provides a well packed, moderately difficult trail with decent sheltering from wind and other winter elements.

The trail begins at the Appalachia parking lot off U.S. Route 2 in Randolph, New Hampshire. The lot fills quickly, so plan to arrive early. A bunch of other trails break off Valley Way in the beginning — notably Air Line and the Fallsway — but the trail is well marked, and in the winter this path is most trodden, so it’s fairly easy to stay the course. Summer hikers will just want to read all signs carefully.

Following blue blazes, Valley Way climbs gradually for a good distance, paralleling Snyder Brook in a few locations. A couple miles in the trail gets steeper as it ascends the slopes of Durand Ridge. Breaks in the trees permit partial views of Mt. Madison and Gordon Ridge, teasing the grander views yet to come. Cloaked in an armor of snow, the evergreen trees along the ridge appear as stoic sentinels guarding the mountaintop.

The Valley Way trail as it nears treeline.

Around the three-mile mark is a short path on the right to the Valley Way Campsite. I didn’t venture over on this trip, but I’ve stayed there in the summer and know it to be a good site. A lot of hard work has clearly been put into leveling off the dirt tenting platforms, but there aren’t many of them so they fill up quickly. Early arrivals should set up on the sides of spaces to allow room for others.

Soon after leaving the shelter of treeline, Valley Way ends 0.7 miles after the campsite and within view of Madison Hut. Here is the intersection with the Gulfside Trail and the Star Lake Trail, both of which are also the Appalachian Trail. Just prior to the hut on Star Lake is a junction with the Osgood Trail, which leads to the summit of Mt. Madison. Follow the Gulfside Trail to the intersection with Air Line to get to the summit of Mt. Adams.

The weather on this day was remarkable. Blue skies and beautiful with temps in the mid twenties at higher elevations with little wind (except on the summits). It was a silly question to ask people how they were doing, as everyone was giddy with the good fortune to be winter hiking in the Presidential Range in such conditions.

This sign had the day off.

Looking up at Mount John Quincy Adams from the treeline on Valley Way.

So…I left the snowshoes in the car thinking the ground would be windswept and exposed above treeline. This sign shows how wrong I was.

Approaching the Mt. Madison summit. The wind did pick up considerably here, but I was able to manage in a soft shell without digging out the goggles and balaclava.

Mt. Washington as viewed from near the summit of Mt. Madison.

Looking down on the Appalachian Trail descent of Osgood Ridge on Mt. Madison. The Carter-Moriah range is in the background.

A cairn near the summit of Mt. Madison covered in rime ice.

Mt. Adams as viewed on the descent of Mt. Madison.

Mt. Madison as viewed from the ascent of Mt. Adams.

The Air Line ascent of Mt. Adams.

Mt. Washington as viewed from the summit of Mt. Adams.

Mt. Jefferson as viewed from the summit of Mt. Adams.

Wildcat Mountain and the Carter-Moriah range as viewed from the summit of Mt. Adams.

“Clothing that stands out from the environment is helpful in search and rescue situations,” said Nathaniel L. Berry, a retired Maine game warden. “It’s also important to consider the season. Reds are easy to spot in winter, but can blend in with the leaves in the fall, especially when viewed from an aerial search. Of course, hunter orange is always the most visible.”

Confession time: I’ve never really taken color into consideration when choosing hiking clothing. My wardrobe is packed with chameleon colors such as black, green and brown. It wasn’t until a recent online EMS transaction that, when ready to click purchase on a forest green thermal base layer, I had a moment’s pause.

I know what you’re thinking: What does the base layer color matter in search and rescue situations? Before you conclude I’ve jumped the shark on this topic, consider this: When disoriented from hypothermia, it’s not uncommon for people to actually remove clothing. This is something warden Berry has experienced first hand.

“It was shortly after a snow storm and extremely cold,” he said. “The man had been missing for several hours so hypothermia was a concern. I found his mittens first, which had me worried he was shedding clothes. When I finally found him, there was no doubt he was hypothermic. He was lying in a thicket of evergreens with his pants around his ankles and no long underwear on. Doctors later confirmed that he wouldn’t have survived another hour in the woods.”

The point of this article isn’t to scare everyone into dressing like a Cabella’s mannequin or an eighties neon sign. And just because I don’t have a sense of style doesn’t mean I’m trying to take you down with me. On the contrary, Northeast trails are punishing gauntlets of rocks and roots, keeping the door to injury open for even the most experienced hikers. Add New England’s notoriously fickle weather, and the possibility of getting disoriented or hypothermic—a four-season threat—isn’t out of the question, either.

So why not have an article or two of clothing that helps a search? That simple question convinced me to switch the forest green base layer to whatever fancy word EMS is currently using for orange. Would you do the same?

3.9 miles (one way); elevation 4,802 feet
5-7 hours (round trip)
Difficulty: Weekend Warriors

A fresh coat of snow, drizzled in hues of blue from the early morning light, blanketed the field at the foot of Mt. Moosilauke. The snow was broken only by a classical cross country ski track showing the way. To the west, through the towering trees, the hills were awash in sunlight, fulfilling the promise of a rare cloudless day. The ascent of Mt. Moosilauke via the Glencliff Trail (also the Appalachian Trail) was just beginning, and already it was hard not to love this idyllic winter hike.

In the summer Mt. Moosilauke welcomes northbound AT hikers to New Hampshire’s White Mountains, and the gradual ascent via the Glencliff Trail is a gracious host. No doubt many NoBos have ascended the Glencliff Trail as if it were a mere speed bump, and, basking in the sun on Moosilauke’s windswept summit, dismissed the stories of roots and rock scrambles as no match for their nearly 2,000 mile trail tested legs. A notion the Beaver Brook Trail descent quickly dismisses as fools gold.

Snowdrifts! It’s like hiring Mother Nature as a personal trainer. It doesn’t matter how many times you scream uncle, she has no mercy.

Add snow and the Glencliff Trail balances scenic charm with enough challenging terrain to keep the blood pumping. Not to mention Moosilauke’s open, rock-speckled summit can be both spectacular and sinister depending on the fickle whims of Mother Nature. Having had my eye on this hike for quite some time, I’m guilty of cherry picking a day when the views would be aplenty.

The hike begins on an old farming road that skirts around a couple of fields and crosses a small brook before entering the woods at the junction of the Glencliff and Hurricane trails. The first two miles gradually ascend the mountain with a fair amount of horizontal hiking. Even in February, the day after winter storm Nemo, there wasn’t a lot of snow in the lower elevations and it wasn’t uncommon for my snowshoes to grind across a rock. The trail itself isn’t any worse off from the storm as there’s currently only one blowdown that presents any sort of obstacle.

Eventually the Glencliff Trail kisses the roundabout approach goodbye and turns straight up the slope. Here’s where the fun really begins, the roar of the wind above foreshadowing the summit’s temperament. The trees are spread thinner at this point, enabling the wind to cover the trail with hearty drifts. My punishment for being the first to arrive this morning was trail-breaking duties, a job I was happy to do but also willing to relinquish for a bit when a couple of hikers caught up.

A quick viewpoint on the upper section of the Glencliff Trail.

The Glencliff Trail ends at a junction with the Carriage Road in a sag between the South Peak and the main summit. Mere feet before the junction is a .02-mile side trail leading to the South Peak, which is worth the jaunt on a clear day. Turn left onto the Carriage Road, also following the Appalachian Trail, to reach the main summit. The Carriage Road corridor is a gradual climb lined with conifers and stuffed with snowdrifts. Glimpses of the rewarding views soon to come are teased through the trees.

It isn’t long before the Carriage Road reaches treeline and follows cairns up the rocky cone of Moosilauke’s summit. Most snow has been blown off the top or aggregated into sculture-like formations, leaving an icy path. If the conditions aren’t too harsh, it’s probably a good idea to trade the snowshoes for traction at treeline, bundle up for the summit, and leave the pack for retrieval on the way back (none of which I had the foresight to do). You will want to have full face and eye coverage on most days, and when the summit is enshrouded in clouds hikers should strongly consider turning back here—three trails converge on the summit and it would be easy to get mixed up in low visibility.

Fortunately there were no clouds on this day, treating those of us who drew the lucky straw with views from Vermont’s Green Mountains to Mt. Washington. Pelted by wind the summit stay was short lived but more than worth every ounce of effort to get there.

Directions
From the south, take I-93 to exit 26 in Plymouth and follow Route 25 to Glencliff Village. Turn right onto High Street (the street sign is currently missing, but it’s on a corner just prior to a church) and follow it 1.2 miles to the trailhead parking lot on the right.

The Carriage Road shortly after the intersection with the Glencliff Trail.

The Mt. Moosilauke summit as viewed from a break in the trees on the Carriage Road.

The Moosilauke Summit is windswept and bare in the winter.

Looking north over Mt. Lafayette, Mt. Lincoln and the Franconia Ridge, as well as Mt. Washington and the Presidential Range in the background.

Glancing south over the Appalachian Trail ascent and the South Peak.

The 360 degree views continued looking east.

Remnants of the stone lodge that once stood on the Moosilauke summit.

The cairn atop the South Peak.

One last view of the main summit, this one from atop the South Peak.

The obvious benefit of shopping in-store is you can try on several pairs. If the store has one of those fake rock mounds, take the opportunity to climb over it. What do you notice? Are your toes touching the front of the boot on decline? Does your heel rub against the back? Both of which could be a sign that the fit isn’t right. (Or maybe you aren’t lacing them properly. Section Hiker has an informative post on lacing techniques here.) You’ll also want to wear your hiking socks when trying on boots for a realistic fit.

The other bonus of in-store shopping is talking to a sales associate. On a recent trip into Cadillac Mountain Sports in Bar Harbor I learned it isn’t the cut of the boot that provides ankle support so much as it is the dexterity of the sole. Try twisting the boot sole in your hands to simulate what happens during an ankle roll. The easier the sole twists, the less support it provides.

Another factor to consider with the sole is the hardness of the rubber. As a rule of thumb, softer rubber provides better grip but harder outsoles are more durable. To learn more about this, check out Matt Heid’s article in the Appalachian Mountain Club’s Equipped blog. The line of demarcation here appears to be between hiking and backpacking boots.

The other noticeable difference between hiking and backpacking boots is the use of Gore-Tex, and the subsequent waterproof claims, being more prevalent in the backpacking boots. The thing is, as good as Gore-Tex is at keeping water out, it’s equally effective at keeping water in. And one way or another, regardless of whether you wear gaiters, water will find a way.

Alas, the perfect hiking boot there is not. All of which leads to personal preference. In the past I’ve tended to go for Keen or Merrell hiking boots, preferring sneaker-like comfort and breathability over the backpacking Gore-Tex defense. The trade-off has been durability, and I’ve burned through each pair of these in a single hiking season. And somehow, in my last trip into EMS, I ended up walking out with a new pair of Oboz boots that claim to be waterproof, and breathable. We’ll see.

What do you look for in a hiking boot? Please share in the comments below.

This sign is located at the historic trailhead on Rt. 302 across from the AMC Highland Center.

3.2 miles (one way); elevation 4,312
4-5 hours (round trip)
Difficulty: Weekend Warriors

Looking for an ideal winter hike to break-in the snow trail legs? Or perhaps you’re a casual hiker interested in bagging a (relatively) easy winter peak? Then again, maybe you just want a trail teeming with scenic charm for a little natural healing? If your head is nodding with any of these, then Mt. Pierce—the mountain formerly known as Mt. Clinton—via the historic Crawford Path, is the ticket.

The Crawford Path was originally cut by Abel Crawford and his son Ethan Allen Crawford in 1819 as a route across the southern Presidential Range to Mt. Washington. In 1840 Abel’s youngest son Thomas converted the trail into a bridle path. Today, a good century after ascents have been made by horseback, the Crawford Path is regarded as the oldest continually used footpath in the United States.

These days the Crawford Path is as popular as ever. In the summer months it’s flocked with avid hikers and eco-tourists alike after Mt. Pierce and the Presidential Range’s bounty of scenic beauty. The trail also serves as the most direct route to the Mizpah Spring Hut (closed in winter). Come winter there’s still a steady stream of people, many of them fed to the mountain from the AMC Highland Center.

The footbridge over Gibbs Brook on the Crawford Connector trail.

All of which is a positive for casual winter hikers or those new to the sport. The Crawford Path’s heavy usage means there’s likely to be a hard-packed snowshoe trail, and should you encounter any trouble, chances are you won’t have to wait long before help happens along. For those heading only to the Mt. Pierce summit, this can be achieved with boots alone, but I’d still recommend snowshoes and trekking poles with snow baskets. Crampons or micro spikes aren’t needed unless you’re doing the hike in early or late season when there’s more ice than snow.

The historic trailhead is located on Route 302 across from the AMC Highland Center; however, the best starting point for parking purposes is via the Crawford Connector from the White Mountain National Forest lot on the Mt. Clinton Road. The Crawford Connector climbs gradually for 0.4 miles past the Crawford Cliff Spur and over Gibbs Brook via a footbridge before joining the main trail.

At the intersection with the Crawford Path, turn left to proceed up Mt. Pierce. Shortly thereafter is a side trail on the left for Gibbs Falls. In the summer the falls alone is worth the short hike for families. In the winter, not so much. From here the trail climbs gradually with a few brief moderately steep pitches. There isn’t anything that would make it worth putting the heel bar on alpine snowshoes up.

Gibbs Falls with its winter coat. In the summer the short hike to here is a good family outing.

Almost two miles from the Mt. Clinton Road parking lot is the Mizpuh Cutoff side trail to Mizpuh Spring Hut. Continue straight for another 1.2 miles of ascent that’s slightly less steep; however, there are a few sections closer to the summit where the wind sneaks through the trees and deposits fresh snowdrifts on the trail.

Eventually the trail levels off and emerges from the krummholz into an opening where the Crawford Path meets the Appalachian Trail (also the Webster Cliff Trail). Turn right onto the Appalachian Trail and climb for about 0.1 miles to reach the summit of Mt. Pierce. Turn left at the junction to continue on the Crawford Path and Appalachian Trail toward Mt. Eisenhower.

Directions
When traveling on U.S. Route 302 East, the Mt. Clinton Road will be on the left just prior to the AMC’s Highland Center. The trailhead parking lot (National Forest Service fee applies) is on the left a short distance from 302. While the Mt. Clinton Road is maintained until the parking lot in the winter, early morning arrivals may encounter snowdrifts at the entrance. In such situations (a lesson I learned the hard way), it’s best to turn onto the Mt. Clinton Road when driving east on 302 to get the extra speed necessary to get through the snow and up the hill.

Even when there’s no shortage of snow on Mt. Pierce, the Crawford Path is well packed.

The krummholz near the summit of Mt. Pierce. On this day everything was enshrouded in clouds and the winds were fierce.

The Appalachian Trail sign marking the juncture with the Crawford Path. I had to wipe some of the rime ice off to read it. On the way up I’d entertained thoughts of continuing on to Mt. Eisenhower, but alas, the conditions weren’t playing nice.

Below is the view from the Mt. Pierce summit on a clearer summer day. To see more, check out the Appalachian Trail post for the Presidential Range.

Once past the Table Rock loop, the Baldpate Mountain trail presented us with two feet of untouched snow.

3.1 miles (one way) to the West Peak, elevation 3,662 feet
4 miles (ditto) to the summit of East Baldpate, elevation 3,812
6-8ish hours (round trip)
Difficulty: Weekend Warriors

The Appalachian Trail’s northbound ascent of Baldpate Mountain from Grafton Notch is a rocky, bruising trail in the summer that crushes the hopes of thru hikers looking for an easy stretch after the rigorous Mahoosuc Range. Add snow and this hike transforms into a backcountry winter wonderland where you’re more likely to encounter a moose than a fellow hiker.

Unlike trails that begin with a gradual approach, this Baldpate ascent gets steep from the get-go, gaining nearly a 1,000 feet in elevation in the .07-mile stretch between the lower and upper junctions of the Table Rock loop trail. We passed on Table Rock during this hike, but I highly recommend this detour for first timers as the views of adjacent Old Speck (Maine’s third tallest mountain) are worth the extra effort.

The Table Rock loop is a popular trail that continues to get winter traffic. In the there’s-a-first-time-for-everything category, we saw a kid doing this hike with no pack except for a full-size medieval sword strapped to his back. Sorry, I failed to ask if he’d pulled it out of Table Rock. Once past the upper junction, the chances of seeing King Arthur, or any other hikers, are slim to none, as most winter peak baggers opt for Old Speck instead.

We encountered two significant blowdowns over the trail.

For having chosen the trail less traveled, Baldpate treated us to a forest decorated in two feet of virgin snow. Of course this also meant we were breaking trail the whole way, which makes alpine snowshoes required equipment for this hike.

Simply following the Appalachian Trail’s white blazes is a challenge unto itself, too, especially in the middle section where the trail flattens out and even descends through open hardwoods. Many of the trees were plasted with snow, further camouflaging the blazes, and on a couple occasions we got off the trail and had to backtrack. Apparently it’s not a good idea to get caught up in following moose tracks.

Shortly after the side trail to the Baldpate Lean-to, the steep ascent to Baldpate’s West Peak begins. There are a few spots that can get tricky, but we did fine with trekking poles and the snowshoe heel bar flipped up. The West Peak is partially open with a view of the East Baldpate summit. There’s a significant sag between the two peaks and the descent from the west side includes a wooden ladder that is, well, interesting with snowshoes.

After venturing into the sag we could see the East Peak was all ice, and with one set of crampons between the two of us, we decided to turn back. Maybe we would have been fine had we stayed near treeline, but in winter the mountains and Mother Nature have zero tolerance for stupid, so we erred on the side of a safe descent. Better to hike another day.

Directions
The trail head parking lot is on the left side of Route 26 (heading North) between Newry and Upton, Maine. This parking lot also services hikes to Old Speck Mountain and the Grafton Notch Loop Trail.

The trail got steep and slippery with a combo of ice and fresh powder on the climb to the West Peak.

At first I thought this was a frozen spider web, but it turned out to be a hair.

The morning sun peeking through the trees promised a warmer summit.

The East Baldpate summit as viewed from the partially open West Peak. We couldn’t have asked for a better day. There was nary a cloud in the sky and surprisingly not a hint of wind.

The snow-crusted krummholz on the West Peak.

Looking north toward Umbagog Lake.

Once we’d worked our way down into the sag, we could clearly see the East Peak was mostly ice.

Looking back at the West Peak from the sag.

If any of these questions have piqued your curiosity, then the Eastern Alpine Guide, Natural History and Conservation of Mountain Tundra East of the Rockies, is for you. Written and edited by M.T. Jones and L.L. Willey, the book contains original contributions from numerous scientists and naturalists.

For hikers and outdoor enthusiasts, the Eastern Alpine Guide is an encyclopedia of knowledge regarding the formation, geology, climate, vegetation and fauna of our favorite terrain in the Canadian Shield and Northern Appalachian Mountains. There are chapters focusing on New England’s Mount Washington and the Presidential Range as well as Katahdin; Quebec’s Mont Albert and the Monts Chic-Chocs, Mont Jacques-Cartier and the Monts McGerrigle, Monts Groulx, and Monts Otish; Newfoundland’s Southern Long Range Mountains, Bay of Islands, Gros Morne, Northern Long Range Mountains, and the Highlands of St. John; and Labrador’s Mealy Mountains.

With nearly 350 pages the book is too big and heavy to serve as a backpack companion; however, it is well illustrated, enabling hikers to identify plant life, birds, spiders and frogs from photos taken along the trail. The entire work was written with an eye toward conservation without coming across as preachy or alarmist. The result is an information-rich guide that allows readers to deepen their understanding of these mountainous zones while ideally building a greater appreciation for alpine scarcity. In the authors’ own words:

“Our thesis in this book has been that the alpine mountains of eastern North America are sufficiently rare and demonstrably important to biodiversity conservation to be worthy of protection wherever they occur. The East lacks the embarrassment of alpine riches found in the West. Our scattered alpine tundra is of the heirloom variety—ancient and unique.”

All proceeds from Eastern Alpine Guide sales support Beyond Ktaadn, a non-profit organization aiming to advance scientific research and general public awareness of alpine biodiversity in eastern North America. The Eastern Alpine Guide may be purchased online or from select bookstores.

The Osseo Trail ascent of Mt. Flume has to rank as one of the “easier” 4,000-foot climbs in New Hampshire’s White Mountains. Practically serving as a boundary marker between the Pemigewasset Wilderness and Franconia Notch State Park, it packs plenty of scenery to boot. All of which makes it a great option for casual hikers wanting to bag a 4,000-foot peak, or as a starter mountain for those eager to collect all 48.

To access the Osseo Trail, hikers begin on the Lincoln Woods Trail from the Lincoln Woods Visitor Center. This trail, which becomes the Wilderness Trail at the entry point to the Pemigewasset Wilderness, is a high-speed, inter-forest hiking highway delivering peak seekers to numerous trailheads throughout the Wilderness. The Osseo Trail is the first exit, located 1.4 miles in on the left.

I had the pleasure of hitting the Lincoln Woods Trail before any heavy foot traffic on a clear fall day, the early morning sunshine glowing like a prism in the leaves above. Turning onto the Osseo Trail at first seems a continuation of this leisurely stroll as it meanders alongside a brook. Having provided plenty of walking to warm up the legs, the trail eventually climbs a relatively steep bank. Upon reaching actual steepness, Osseo offers a series of switchbacks and a couple wooden staircases.

The Osseo Trail ends after 4.1 miles at a junction with the Flume Slide Trail and the beginning of the Franconia Ridge Trail. Continue straight on the Franconia Ridge Trail for 0.1 miles to reach the summit of Mt. Flume. From here more adventurous hikers can turn this hike into a multi-day trek by carrying on across Mt. Liberty, Mt. Lincoln, Mt. Lafayette and perhaps the entire 31-mile Pemi Loop.

Directions
Take exit 32 on I-93 and at the end of the ramp turn left onto Rt. 112 East, also the Kancamagus Highway. Approximately 5.6 miles from the exit is the Lincoln Woods Visitor Center parking lot, which has a daily parking fee.

The first 1.4 miles on the Lincoln Woods Trail is easy walking on an old logging road. The Osseo Trail head is clearly marked.

The early going on the Osseo Trail is equally as pleasant.

When the climbing gets steep, there are plenty of switchbacks and rock staircases have been well maintained.

And then there are wooden ladders.

There are a couple viewpoints along the Osseo Trail. This one is looking out over Mt. Bond and the Pemigewasset Wilderness.

Looking out from the Mt. Flume summit.

The view of Mt. Liberty from the Mt. Flume summit.

Looking down on the Mt. Flume slide from the summit.

The view of the Franconia Ridge and mounts Lincoln and Lafayette from Flume.

What’s that? You don’t want to drive six hours for a 1,530 foot mountain? Oh, sure, there are plenty of worthy mountains in the Northeast. Many that are bigger, tougher, and (likely) closer. But how many of them are in scenic Acadia National Park? How many of them sport the highest point on the North Atlantic seaboard, and are amongst the first places in the United States to see sunlight? How many of them offer views not only of surrounding mountains, but also of Frenchman’s Bay and its spattering of islands and cruise ships? A Google images search will quickly have your heart pining for Cadillac Mountain, making it the hiking version of Jessie’s Girl.

Cue the Rick Springfield, it’s time for a road trip! I roped the Mrs. into this one under the guise of an anniversary Bar Harbor getaway. It was a good plan, too, until it started raining shortly after our arrival. And continued to do so. All. Freaking. Weekend. Unlike our hiking boots, however, our spirits couldn’t be dampened.

At 3.5 miles the South Ridge Trail is the longest direct approach to the Cadillac Mountain summit. After admiring this mountain beauty from afar, why not pick a slow song to ask her to dance? Below treeline the trail guides visitors through a rich coniferous forest, a pleasant escape from the crowds likely to be encountered on top.

As one would expect of a national park, the trail is well maintained. There’s a stretch comprised of buried sandbags to combat erosion, and places with stone staircases are perfectly spaced for little feet. A mile into the hike is the short Eagle Crag Loop Trail sporting a lookout with an easterly view perfect for early birds trying to catch a sunrise. Assuming the clouds looked the same on the crag as they did the summit, we skipped this detour and had a little photo fun on a nearby cliff instead.

Shortly after the cliff the trail emerges above treeline on an open ridge, providing postcard-quality views from here to the summit. Except, you know, when it rains. Along the way there are multiple intersections with the Jordan Ponds Path, Canon Brook Trail, and Cadillac West Face Trail. All are well marked—just make sure to read signs carefully in foggy weather.

We also saw a lot of this bluish gray fungus on the rocks. Not sure what it’s called, but it’s slippery when wet.

A rock climb at the tail end of the hike presents the only real challenge. Even so, it’s short enough to be a fun obstacle for kids.

Don’t let Cadillac Mountain’s 1,530-foot summit fool you, its close proximity to the ocean can lead to strong winds and harsh conditions. This should go without saying, but…if you’re in the park and considering a spur-of-the-moment hike, make sure to bring layers. Posting unflattering photos of your wife on the summit can also lead to cold shoulders.

Above I mentioned that it rained the entire weekend we were in Bar Harbor, which isn’t entirely accurate. On the morning we were leaving we woke up to the following view from our hotel room.

So…on our way out of town we cheated and drove to the top of Cadillac Mountain to get a few good shots.

What a difference a day makes.

Directions
Travel south on U.S. Route 3 from Bar Harbor Village. The trailhead is located on the right just after the Blackwoods Campground road. Acadia National Park maps indicate a parking area at the trailhead, but don’t bother looking for a lot, it’s all roadside. Those staying at the campground can take the connector trail to the Route 3 trailhead for an additional 0.7 mile hike (one way).