My friend David flew in from Alabama last week for the sole purpose of joining me on a hike up one of the 4,000-footers. So you’d figure it would have rained all weekend, right?
Nope. It was one of the nicest weekends in the mountains. Sunny, low humidity, little mud, no bugs. We stayed overnight at the Joe Dodge Lodge, had a great breakfast, threaded through the crowds readying to head up Tuckerman’s, and drove 40 minutes around Mt. Washington to 4,500-foot Mt. Garfield.
While Pinkham Notch was as crowded as the Hampton tolls on a Sunday, afternoon, the Garfield Trail was relatively quiet, even on a beautiful Saturday in August. David, who’s used to running in the humid south, was patient with my huffing and puffing. And the views from the top were everything I’ve heard about.
The day ended the way I think all hiking days should, with beer and a massive steak (at the Red Parka Pub in Bartlett). The only downside — a worsening case of Achilles tendonitis. More on that later…