A winter scene on Mount Monadnock

New Hampshire

Mount Monadnock

My Monadnock Years

Mount Monadnock was never just another mountain on a list for me. For many years it was practically in my backyard, only about 25 or 30 minutes from home, and it became one of the places where I spent the most time outdoors. I climbed it hundreds of times, often three or four times in a week, and sometimes every day for an entire week. Because it was so close, I could head up after work, after a bike ride, after fishing, or whenever I had a few hours and enough daylight.

I eventually explored every major trail to the summit, along with many of the connecting paths, side trails, ledges, and less-traveled variations. I often approached from the Route 101 and Old Toll Road side, climbing the White Arrow Trail and wandering onto routes such as Hedgehog, Noble, Dewdrop, and Sidefoot. Changing the trail, direction, season, weather, or time of day could make the same mountain feel completely new.

Winter view on Mount Monadnock in New Hampshire
Winter on Mount Monadnock — familiar ground that never felt ordinary.

A Training Ground for Bigger Adventures

Monadnock helped build the judgment, endurance, and confidence I later carried into much bigger adventures. During the years when I was working through the New Hampshire 4,000-footers, the New England high peaks, the Adirondacks, the Long Trail, and winter mountains across the Northeast, Monadnock was a dependable place to train.

I could test boots, layers, crampons, snowshoes, packs, stoves, and winter systems without having to drive for hours. I could climb hard, move quickly, practice route finding, or simply spend a quiet day exploring. Those lessons later carried into the Canadian Rockies, the Tetons, the Bugaboos, the Andes, and volcanoes in Central and South America.

Snow-covered trail and rocks on Mount Monadnock
Snow, rock, wind, and the perfect nearby mountain for testing winter skills.

Rock, Winter, Darkness, and a Snow Cave

The broad granite ledges offered countless opportunities for scrambling, informal rock climbing, and exploring. Those days fit naturally into the years when climbing became a major part of my life and I was spending weekends on New England cliffs, learning technical systems, climbing rock and ice, and gradually taking those skills to larger mountain ranges.

Dann and I once climbed high on the mountain and stayed near the summit for an overnight bivouac. We wandered around the summit in darkness, met another pair of hikers who arrived in the middle of the night, watched the sunrise, and headed down before the daytime crowd arrived. It was exactly the kind of unusual little adventure that made those years so memorable. I've dug many snow caves up there too but never stayed past midnight.

A broad winter landscape from Mount Monadnock
The exposed upper mountain could feel wild, especially in winter and darkness.

Why I Kept Going Back

There are mountains that impress you because they are enormous, remote, or famous. Monadnock meant something different. It became part of the rhythm of my life. I did not need a major expedition plan or a week of vacation. I only needed a few free hours and the desire to get outside.

That accessibility helped shape a lifelong habit of exploration. It reminded me that adventure does not always require traveling across the country or flying to another continent. Sometimes a mountain close to home can offer a lifetime of routes, weather, memories, friendships, challenges, and quiet moments—provided you keep returning with curiosity.

Winter summit terrain on Mount Monadnock
Knowing one mountain deeply became as rewarding as discovering a new one.

A Mountain to Respect

Winter on Monadnock could still be unforgiving. The summit is exposed, wind can erase tracks, ice can cover the ledges, and temperatures can fall quickly. My New Year’s Day climb in 1997 reached the summit at about 4°F.

Experiences like that reinforced lessons that mattered on every mountain afterward: carry real clothing, respect the weather, know your route, turn around when necessary, and never confuse a familiar mountain with a harmless one. Even after hiking and climbing in many of the great mountain regions of North and South America, Monadnock remains one of my favorite mountains.

Summit of Monadnock on New Year's Day 1997, when the temperature was 4 degrees Fahrenheit
Summit of Monadnock, New Year’s Day, 1997. Temperature: 4°F.