Sugarloaf Mountain, Appalachian Trail

As amazing as the views from Franconia Ridge were, I approached the next stage with a mix of excitement and nerves, knowing that what lay ahead would be both stunning and challenging. This stretch took me through the heart of the White Mountains, possibly named for their snow-capped peaks. Part of the larger Appalachian chain, they run through northern New Hampshire, spill slightly into western Maine, and are known for their unpredictable weather and rugged terrain, something I am already anticipating. 

As I climb and descend each mountain, I mentally mark off peak after peak, each slightly taller than the last but always above 4,000ft (1,200m). Not surprising, though, since the White Mountains boast 48 peaks, known as the "four thousand-footers". Hiking this route is a terrific way to bag as many as possible. However, the Presidential Range within the White Mountains stands out as the most iconic and demanding, with some of the highest and most exposed peaks in the Northeast.

Perhaps the most challenging of all is Mount Washington. At 6,288ft (1,917m), it is the tallest peak in the region. Its true test comes from the relentless winds whipping anything in its path. The highest windspeed recorded here was 231mph (372km/h) in 1934, making it one of the most dangerous mountains to climb. As I slowly hiked over the summit, each step felt like a small victory against the elements. Head hunched, body tucked in, I strengthened my core with each stride, firmly planting my feet to brace against the gusts that threatened to knock me off course. The wind howled, but I was determined to get through it. Yet, I still paused for a moment to pay homage to the peak and its namesake, George Washington, the first president of the United States.

The Presidential Range is named after many prominent U.S. presidents who helped shape the nation's history, including Mount Adams (John Adams), Mount Jefferson (Thomas Jefferson), and Mount Madison (James Madison). These names not only honour U.S. history but also reflect the grandeur of these towering mountains. 

As I descended toward Upper Village, I took one last look back at the ridgeline and smiled slightly, feeling accomplished for what I had conquered. At the same time, I tipped my imaginary hat, paying my respects to the past presidents whose names graced the peaks, honouring their legacies.

Crossing the Androscoggin River, I worked toward the Mahoosuc Range and soon entered Maine, my fourteenth and final state on the AT. Katahdin is 250mi (400km) away, a breeze compared to what I have covered so far. I felt a spring in my step and a jolt of excitement in my heart—so close, yet still far.

Without wasting a moment, I pressed on. Just when I thought I'd have some reprieve from the Presidential Range, the terrain before me immediately became demanding, with steep, rocky slopes rising at every turn. Large boulders scattered across the path, but nothing compared to the Mahoosuc Notch, another notorious and difficult stretch on the trail. The narrow, boulder-strewn passages twisted through the dense forest, forcing me to climb, scramble, and navigate through tight spaces, each movement taking deliberate effort.

Next came long, steady climbs followed by sharp descents, like a wild rollercoaster, each rise and fall pushing me forward. Reaching the summit of Spalding Mountain, I paused to look ahead at Sugarloaf Mountain, my final challenge across the ridge. Instead of descending on the AT, I took the side trail, climbing the 700ft (213m) to the summit. Views of Sugarloaf's expansive northern ski slopes stretch into the valley below. I could easily imagine the runs carved by enthusiastic skiers and snowboarders in winter, the mountain alive with energy.