November 7, 2024.
10 mi. | 3270′ ele. gain | 7 hr.
I first started hiking as an adult in the White Mountains, back in 2005. I’d done plenty of camping and some short dayhikes as a kid, but I never considered myself a “hiker”. But I quickly found myself bitten by the hiking bug and taking every opportunity to get out into the mountains as possible. One of my hiking buddies and mentors during this time was Arm. When I planned to revisit the White Mountains on this grand road trip, I sent him a message.
Much to my delight, Arm was up for a hike and he recommended doing the Moat Mountain Traverse. According to my meticulously kept hiking spreadsheet, I’d done some version of this hike back in September 2005. However, I left no notes and I have no photos. But I did remember enjoying it, so I looked forward to a repeat.
We met Arm at the south trailhead and he hopped in the van with us. Aaron shuttled us to the north end and waved goodbye. Sometime during the day, he’d drive back to the south end to meet us at the end of the hike. It was the perfect shuttle situation. Apparently most people do this hike south to north, but we flipped it and hiked north to south.
We reached the first point of interest, Diana’s Baths, in just a few minutes. Fall is probably the least exciting time to visit this series of pools and waterfalls, since the water is pretty low. But it was still scenic and unique. There, we ended up in a long chat with some folks who had questions about the camper van and my trip. This happens quite a bit when traveling in a camper van! After saying goodbye to them, we finally got into a rhythm on the trail.
Walking with Arm, it was as if no time had passed. We fell into conversation easily, which slowed our hiking pace quite a bit. But we had all day and the crisp fall weather beckoned us to soak it all up. It would take us 7 hours to walk up, down, up, down, etc across all three of the Moat Mountains. Each one was a little bit different, with fun rock slabs to clamber across and different views of the surrounding peaks. At each vista, Arm had to remind me exactly what I was looking at, as I’d forgotten most of my home range peaks.
I enjoyed the rugged terrain and relentless steep scrambly bits we encountered on the trail. This is what my body remembered from nearly 20 years ago. It’s classic White Mountains hiking, where covering one mile an hour is not a terribly slow pace. But unlike many of the hikes I remembered from the olden days, this one had relentless views as well. The suffering to joy ratio felt way out of balance: so much suffering but also so much joy. Most hikes involve just a little bit of joy once you finally reach a view at the top and you just keep your fingers crossed that it won’t be cloudy.
The true test came on the last descent to the trailhead. The steep trail was covered with inches of dry leaves stacked on top of roots and rocks. With each step, I was unsure just what I was going to land on. Even with poles, we moved excruciatingly slowly. I had texted Aaron an ETA at the beginning of this part and he became concerned when we didn’t return in a reasonable amount of time. “Just trying not to break our ankles, dear!”
Back at the van, we said our goodbyes and hinted at making some more plans before we left the area for good. Arm ended up hosting us at his house for several nights and we even got in one more big hike in the Whites. I’m so glad I stayed in touch with him over all these years and I regret not doing that with so many other people I’ve met. Despite all the negative effects of social media, it has helped me keep a loose circle of contacts that include many hiking friends and other activity partners. I’ve reconnected with several folks since leaving home well over a year ago. I’ve even made new friends on the apps that I’ve been able to meet in real life. The internet has come a long way from finding hiking partners on local message boards, although I kind of miss those days!