Worshipping A Mountain

Anyone who has ever been atop Mt. Adams in New Hampshire's Presidential Range knows that there is something about the mountain that regular worshippers and first-time climbers alike can feel as they near the summit of the 5798 ft. peak.

For years different organizations have claimed Adams to be everything from a "base for interterrestial visitors" to the cosmic center of the universe. And individuals who have ventured to the top have one after another described strange experiences or divine revelations which came to them via their conquering of the second highest peak in the White Mountains--nearby Mt. Washington is 6288 ft.

By Alpine or Rocky Mountain standards 6000 ft. above sea level would be merely a foothill, but in the Appalachain Mountains--which run from Maine to Georgia--only Mt. Mitchell in the Great Smokies can top Adams, Washington and the other Presidentials. Despite the relatively low height, 6000 ft. in the Presidentials is desolate and often quite fierce for climbers. This area is known to have some of the severest weather recorded anywhere on earth--Mt. Washington has logged winds as high as 232 mph, the highest surface winds known to man.

The signs at the base of each trail leading into this barren world above the timberline warn prospective climbers of the oft severe weather conditions and their susceptibility to rapid and drastic change. Even in the summer the danger of exposure is enough to warrant these stiff warnings. A sky which starts out as clear and is accompanied by temperatures in the seventies at the base of the range may develop into a miserable and dangerous fog which yields near zero visibility and icy rocks by late afternoon.

It is only six miles over the horseshoe range from Washington to Adams, but the differences between the two mountains are immense. Adams, the opposite pillar of the horseshoe, presents a striking contrast to Washington. The steep and ragged upper reaches of the mountain culminate in a peak of one large rock which is unreachable except by foot. Only one trail, an offshoot of the Appalachian Trail, which skirts the peak, leads to the summit of Adams. Most hikers climbing over the whole range stay on the main trail so it is rare to meet other parties on the summit even on warm, sunny summer days. The winds at the top of Adams are usually gusting up to 50 or 60 miles an hour and winds of much greater velocity are not uncommon. Few people dare try and fewer people succeed in actually standing "on the very top of Mt. Adams," because of these winds. There are no shelters or huts above the 4000 ft. timberline on Adams. The only evidence of the frontier having been broken is the sporadic trail signs and cairns--piles of rocks to mark the trail--and slightly foot-worn rocks.

The climb to the top of Adams or any of the other six Presidentials which jut above the timberline is tough and risky enough to bring die-hard climbers back year after year. But Adam's attraction just begins with its Himalayan similarities. Ask any climber who knows the range well and chances are he'll describe Adams as a mountain which hikers worship: Washington is too commercial and can be reached too easily, Clay and the lesser known peaks are too non-descript. Madison and Monroe have large Appalachain Mountain Club Huts on their sides, and Jefferson is too much like the Alps. But Adams is different.

Some of the best tales and legends about Mt. Adams are found in the visitors' log book at Crag's Camp--a Randolph Mountain Club Cabin just below the timberline on the Western slope of the mountain. The small cabin is reachable only by foot and is perched on a crag which drops 1000 ft. into King Ravine. A caretaker lives at Crag's in the summer, but in the winter it is unoccupied. But the Mountain Club leaves it unlocked for winter climbers, asking only that they leave $1 for the use of the wooden bunks, potbelly stove and outhouse which is proclaimed to have the most scenic view of any in the world.

"We arrived here this afternoon in a blizzard," entry after entry in the log begins. "The cabin was completely buried and we had to climb in one of the rafter windows...'" they continue. With slight variations on the theme, the winter climbers go on to describe subsequent attempts and successes at reaching their ultimate goal--the summit of Mt. Adams. One particularly intriguing entry several years ago described the adventures of a party of February hikers. They had planned to use Crag as a base camp and to make daily climbs to the top of Adams and to the smaller peaks nearby--Samuel Adams and John Quincy Adams.

After climbing into the windows of Crag and sleeping huddled around the stove, the party, except for one who had received mild frostbite the day before, left at the crack of dawn in sub-zero temperatures to conquer Adams. Although the sky was clear on their side of the range, the clouds sweeping up the eastern slopes quickly locked in the mountain as they neared the final thousand feet of their climb. The ensuing blizzard completely obliterated any landmarks which they could have followed and any chance that they could reach the top. Now they only wanted to get safely back down to Crag's before dark and/or frostbite set in.

Their immediate goal of getting shelter from the blistering cold and icy gale-winds, however, brought them circling around the summit of the mountain. All hope of getting back to the shelter was lost after another hour because the blizzard had become so fierce that they could no longer walk upright. Stranded with only minimal supplies and food, the group had no other choice but to try to build up some sort of shelter and hope the blizzard subsided before they starved or froze.

The igloo which they built turned out to be quite sufficient. After two days of soup and Hershey's chocolate bars, the sky cleared and the wind subsided enough to allow the weary and half-frozen igloo-dwellers to find their way back down to Crag's. Dinner--which had been prepared two days before by the party member who had remained at Crag's--was hot and ready for serving when the rest of the group staggered into camp.

"I just knew they were okay, the spirit of Mt. Adams was guiding them," the faithful cook later wrote in the log. "They were 56 hours late, but I knew they would get back and when; it was the strangest feeling." The next day the whole group went back to their igloo and lived near the top of Adams for five days. Other stories of Adams' magical guidance are repeated time and time again, in the log book and by hikers who have "seen the light" of Mt. Adams.

But the best stories about Adams come from the mystics and the UFO enthusiasts who worship the mountain. At Madison Spring Huts, an Appalachain Mountain Club hut located on the adjacent Mt. Madison, one of these groups has posted a series of pictures which shows typical flying saucer-like objects hovering over the peak of Adams.

The group, known as the Etherians, claims that Adams is one of several places on the surface of the earth which has a powerful "spiritual" or ethereal beam focused on it. This heavenly beam is supposedly what attracts the interplanetary visitors and makes Adams a base for their earthly operations.

Not everyone who makes the day-long ascent of Adams believes that it is ethereally or divinely endowed. But most will cite a certain mystique about the mountain which they attribute to the physical characteristics of the mountain and not to mystical qualities. One of the most crowded times at the summit of Adams is just before sunset. And the hikers who grope slowly back down to shelter below the timberline in the shimmering darkness after watching the sunset will never argue that what they have just witnessed was a most spectacular scene. For the few fleeting moments while the sun sets, the whole mountain is bathed in a fiery red tint, and all who sit atop the mountain will no doubt return again and again to be a part of Adams for those few moments.