Chugging up to Mount Washington

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May 19, 2003

For avid hikers, there's nothing like using your own two feet to scale the highest peak in New England: Mt. Washington. And there's no universal opinion about other means of getting to the summit -- namely, shuttle bus, car and by the Cog Railway, otherwise known by its derisive nickname of the "Smog Railway."

My opinion has always been that although I don't want every mountain to turn into the touristy zoo that George has become, it's nice to have the chance to introduce the big daddy of northeastern mountains to folks that wouldn't otherwise get to experience it.

The Cog Railway, which starts near Bretton Woods, began in the mid-1800s and is the world's first mountain-climbing cog railway. It's apparently still the only one powered solely by steam, according to the railway's Web site: http://www.thecog.com

Well, one summer, I decided I wanted to check out Mount Washington without the rigors of a hiking up the big rockpile. The train runs from May through early November, and a roundtrip takes about three hours, including a 20-minute stop on the summit -- complete with a chance to grab a photo of the summit marker, a stroll around the observation deck that overlooks the other presidential mountains and way into the distance -- at least on those rare days that weather hasn't obscured the view. There's also a concession area that is brimming with hikers and non-hikers alike.

The cog makes its way up the western edge of the presidentials, chugging its way past krummholz and boulders and making a stop halfway up to replenish its water supply.

This particular day was stunning, barely a cloud in the sky, and the train was filled with mostly non-hikers making their first pilgrimmage to Big George. I found it amusing and enlightening to hear the comments, particularly as we inched our way closer to the top.

One woman behind me looked out to the right, and spying the Lakes of the Clouds hut, asked with sheer delight, "What's the big house?"

I leaned back and clued her in about the mountain huts that dot the White Mountains, and told her that hikers stay there overnight.

"What are those big piles of rocks?" she asked, pointing at the cairns that dot the rocky trails.

I let her know that those are markers, pointing hikers enshrouded in fog or thick rain or snowstorms in the right direction.

Then, she asked, "What are those white crosses?"