Wedged somewhere in between the craziness of this current cancer boondoggle and last summer’s east coast of the US and Canadain Maritimes roadtrip, Jeff and I visited the somewhat removed, ruggedly beautiful wilderness of New Hampshire’s White Mountains.

If you haven’t already gathered, or if you’ve just started reading Call It Kismet, Jeff and I are avid travelers and, in particular, fervent hikers. The majority of our trips revolve around mountains and trails, but even city stays find us searching for available backwoods excursions.

The White Mountains, I am happy to say, exceeded our expectations for hiking and scrambling opportunities.

The Whites are a part of the  Appalachian Mountains, and the most rugged mountains in New England. Mount Washington is the highest peak in the Northeastern U.S. at 6288 ft, and for 76 years held the record for fastest surface wind gust in the world at 231 miles per hour.

Ever the frugal travel planner, I found a little “cabin” outside the teeny-tiny town of Twin Mountain, within easy proximity to a plethora of varied hiking trails, including the Appalachian Trail (AT), which we have hiked in bits and pieces over many years. Our accommodations were less than ideal. Recently purchased by new owners, the miniscule cottage was tired and in desperate need of an update. The website showed a pool,  fire pits, and, best of all, badminton, bocce and a horseshoe pit. Well Hell’s Bells, count us IN!!!

Upon arrival, only the horseshoe pit was available. But after a little grumbling from yours-truly, the other promised equipment magically appeared. (The pool was already there- large and freezing–nothankyouverymuch).

Albeit  mid August, the weather was brisk, which made for perfect day-hikes. I had on hand my old copy of the Appalachian Mountain Club’s Guide to the White Mountains, and each day we chose a different trail that typically led to a mountain peak with outstanding views. Most of the trails were moderately to very strenuous, between six and 13 miles and I am extremely proud to say that Chance, at 10 years old, made every trip, with only the occasional backpack ride or lift up the boulders.

On the day we visited Mt. Washington, the weather called for possible rain, so we decided to forgo the arduous hike and take the car, instead. Our drive up to the top  was one of nightmares for me, as the winding road is narrow and often  travels along ledges with steep drop-offs. I’m not sure why, but this past year of travel has provided me with way too many of these hair-raising rides.

The top was, indeed, very windy and cold, but also super-crowded, and I felt like Chevy Chase in National Lampoon’s Vacation- the Grand Canyon scene.  As we began the drive back down, I decided to make an Explorer Jules video documenting the sphincter-squeezing ride. However, in my angst, I ducked my head and closed my eyes, thus screwing up the intended video. Oops. Damn!

Mountain  peaks weren’t the only highlight of our hikes. There were plentiful waterfalls and a surprise walk through a Maple Sugaring forest.

When our Week in the Whites was over, we reluctantly re-loaded our rental car and headed back to tamer, hotter locales on the US East coast, before coming back home to Mexico.  We both agreed that, as much as we have hiked in the USofA, New Hampshire’s White Mountains were a highlight to remember.