Pitcher Mountain, New Hampshire:
Small Climb, Big Views
by Lori Hein
I've climbed Pitcher Mountain some 50 times. This beautiful, small peak sits
four miles from my family's cottage on Stoddard, New Hampshire's Highland
Lake, and it's where we go to indulge our bodies in exercise and fill our souls
with beauty.
My 50 climbs aren't a testament to my athletic ability, but to Pitcher Mountain's
accessibility. It's a mountain that welcomes you with quick, easy trails and
rewards you with a summit view that's hard to match. A fabulous return on
time and energy invested.
The drive to Stoddard, itself a scenic pleasure from most New England
locations, delivers you to the Pitcher Mountain parking lot and trailhead on
Route 123. From the parking lot, the main hiking path, part of the Monadnock-
Sunapee Greenway, quickly offers up a choice. A rocky path on the left heads
into steep woods and straight up the fault line. Time from trailhead to summit
is about 15 minutes. This is the trail we take when we're up for a bit of
boulder-hopping or when we want to be nestled in the cool, deep green
embrace of trees.
A wide, singsong path on the right ascends gradually, skirting the high pastures
of the Faulkner family's 200-acre Pitcher Mountain Farm, home to about 50
tawny, long-haired Scottish Highlanders raised as beef cattle. This is the trail
we take when we want to amble, to savor the first peek of Mt. Monadnock as it
rises in the distance beyond the cows, farm and miles of forest. This is the trail
we take when we want to follow the butterflies that seem to know the path's
gentle twists and turns. This is the trail we take in winter, when the steeper
path is icebound. Wider, sunstruck and well-trodden, this path offers solid
traction and the lovely crunch of snow underfoot.
On either route, the climb lasts less than a half-hour, but the 360-degree
panorama that greets you at the mountain's 2,163-foot top is endless. A steel
fire tower stands anchored to the granite, and if the watchman is on duty, you
can climb into the observation room to chat, ogle the unspoiled mountain world
that spreads in every direction and see a photograph of the 1941
Stoddard-Marlow fire. That blaze ravaged the two towns and destroyed Pitcher
Mountain's original wooden fire tower.
But, in burning the mountaintop's tall trees, the
fire created the magical, unobstructed view, unusual
for a short, low-elevation climb. And it provided
the nourishing soil required by the thousands
of blueberry bushes that today crown the summit.
In late summer, climbers bring buckets and baskets
and coffee cans and collect the wild berries, leaving
a dollar or two in a tin that the Faulkners nail
to a parking lot tree. While some of Pitcher Mountain
is state-owned, the Faulkners own the parts most
day trippers visit.
As I stand on the summit for the 50th time, I turn
myself around in a slow, complete circle, drinking
in ponds and lakes, farms and pastures, dense, rich forests, and mountains tall
and small. I greet old friends like Mounts Monadnock and Sunapee, Vermont's
Green Mountain ski resorts lined up across the Connecticut River Valley, and,
on very special days when the air is crystalline, the faraway crests of the White
Mountains. I say hello to the dozens of peaks whose names I've yet to learn.
I've come only 300 vertical feet from the parking lot. For the 50th time, I marvel
at this small walk that yields such big rewards.
About the Author:
Lori Hein has written over a hundred articles on a range of topics. She's the
author of "Ribbons of Highway: A Mother-Child Journey Across America" and
publisher of the world travel blog, Ribbons of Highway , a Good Housekeeping
Site of the Day. She splits her time between homes in the Boston area and
Stoddard, NH.
Small Climb, Big Views
by Lori Hein
I've climbed Pitcher Mountain some 50 times. This beautiful, small peak sits
four miles from my family's cottage on Stoddard, New Hampshire's Highland
Lake, and it's where we go to indulge our bodies in exercise and fill our souls
with beauty.
My 50 climbs aren't a testament to my athletic ability, but to Pitcher Mountain's
accessibility. It's a mountain that welcomes you with quick, easy trails and
rewards you with a summit view that's hard to match. A fabulous return on
time and energy invested.
The drive to Stoddard, itself a scenic pleasure from most New England
locations, delivers you to the Pitcher Mountain parking lot and trailhead on
Route 123. From the parking lot, the main hiking path, part of the Monadnock-
Sunapee Greenway, quickly offers up a choice. A rocky path on the left heads
into steep woods and straight up the fault line. Time from trailhead to summit
is about 15 minutes. This is the trail we take when we're up for a bit of
boulder-hopping or when we want to be nestled in the cool, deep green
embrace of trees.
A wide, singsong path on the right ascends gradually, skirting the high pastures
of the Faulkner family's 200-acre Pitcher Mountain Farm, home to about 50
tawny, long-haired Scottish Highlanders raised as beef cattle. This is the trail
we take when we want to amble, to savor the first peek of Mt. Monadnock as it
rises in the distance beyond the cows, farm and miles of forest. This is the trail
we take when we want to follow the butterflies that seem to know the path's
gentle twists and turns. This is the trail we take in winter, when the steeper
path is icebound. Wider, sunstruck and well-trodden, this path offers solid
traction and the lovely crunch of snow underfoot.
On either route, the climb lasts less than a half-hour, but the 360-degree
panorama that greets you at the mountain's 2,163-foot top is endless. A steel
fire tower stands anchored to the granite, and if the watchman is on duty, you
can climb into the observation room to chat, ogle the unspoiled mountain world
that spreads in every direction and see a photograph of the 1941
Stoddard-Marlow fire. That blaze ravaged the two towns and destroyed Pitcher
Mountain's original wooden fire tower.
But, in burning the mountaintop's tall trees, the
fire created the magical, unobstructed view, unusual
for a short, low-elevation climb. And it provided
the nourishing soil required by the thousands
of blueberry bushes that today crown the summit.
In late summer, climbers bring buckets and baskets
and coffee cans and collect the wild berries, leaving
a dollar or two in a tin that the Faulkners nail
to a parking lot tree. While some of Pitcher Mountain
is state-owned, the Faulkners own the parts most
day trippers visit.
As I stand on the summit for the 50th time, I turn
myself around in a slow, complete circle, drinking
in ponds and lakes, farms and pastures, dense, rich forests, and mountains tall
and small. I greet old friends like Mounts Monadnock and Sunapee, Vermont's
Green Mountain ski resorts lined up across the Connecticut River Valley, and,
on very special days when the air is crystalline, the faraway crests of the White
Mountains. I say hello to the dozens of peaks whose names I've yet to learn.
I've come only 300 vertical feet from the parking lot. For the 50th time, I marvel
at this small walk that yields such big rewards.
About the Author:
Lori Hein has written over a hundred articles on a range of topics. She's the
author of "Ribbons of Highway: A Mother-Child Journey Across America" and
publisher of the world travel blog, Ribbons of Highway , a Good Housekeeping
Site of the Day. She splits her time between homes in the Boston area and
Stoddard, NH.
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