Paugus the August

For nigh on about 20 years or so, Andrew and I have shared an October tradition - usually executed during Columbus Day weekend - that of climbing a mountain together.  We started with Mount Monadnock when Andrew was still in elementary school, and we continue still in 2026.

It's a father-son experience that has been a staple of Fall in New England for us.  An opportunity to soak in some of the glorious foliage that this corner of the U.S. proudly boasts and puts on display for the rest of the world to enjoy.

And New England has no shortage of varied climbs, so as a result, we try whenever possible to clock a different climb each year just to experience some of the different terrains and views that these mountains have to offer.

Our 2026 mountain, as is the case for many of our climbs in years past, came by way of a recommendation from Hiker Extraordinaire Donna Corbin, who's logged more mountains, climbs and hikes than most mere mortals can only dream of conquering.

This year, Donna offered up five potential hikes for us to consider on mountains we had yet to eplore.  One of those five recommendation from Donna - Mount Paugus in Albany, New Hampshire -  though, came with a very distinct caveat from Donna.

"It's hard."

Pro tip for all climbers:  when Donna Corbin cautions that a particular climb is "hard," believe her.

Mount Paugus is located between Mount Chocorua and Mount Passaconaway in the Sandwich Range Wilderness of New Hampshire's White Mountains.  It's one of the climbs featured in the 52-With-A-View hiking list, primarily because of its sweeping vistas of the lake region (see pics below).

The American Indian name Paugus translates roughly to "The Oak," signifying strength, toughness, and resilience.  Yeah, it's aptly named, as we were about to discover for ourselves.

Starting at the base of the Kelley Trail, Andrew, his wife Katie and I we were still all smiles, but of course, we were barely 100 yards into our adventure.

Donna had made the tactical error of telling me this course reminded her a lot of the Lord of Rings movie trilogy, so natch, Andrew needed his Gandalf moment.

As anyone who follows us E Streeters proper knows, you savor the value of claiming a town line victory during a run by being the first to cross it. That counts on mountain climbs as well.  Guess who notched the first victory?

And then, we began the climb.  I find it strategic to first soak in the the terrain, not to mention the scale of the ascent before actually beginning an ascent.  Call it psyching oneself up, or questioning life choices.  Katie took this aerial shot standing directly in front of me on the slope.

Katie, who besides adding endless laughs and lasting memories to any climb and being the best photographer in the pack, is also our local naturalist, who can identify the flora and fauna found throughout any landscape.  Polypores, anyone?

As we pass by Helm's Deep, you may notice an addition to this year's climb - walking sticks.  That's thanks once again to Donna Corbin who, upon hearing the mountain we had chosen, said we MUST use walking sticks for an assist on Paugus.  And like I said above, when Donna speaks mountain advice, you listen.

Donna, I could kiss you for your insistence this time around.

In advance of our climb, we had done as much research as possible about the mountain, and that included charting the specific chain of paths we needed to follow, as well as the paths NOT to follow - those leading to the Kancamagus Highway on the other side of the mountain, for example.

For one brief moment, the three of us feared we had reached the summit of Paugus, in which case, while we were pleased with the view, there wasn't nearly enough real estate for us to explore.  Thankfully, we were mistaken.  In fact, we were barely halfway up the mountain at this point.  Gulp!

Finally, after some not-so-insignificant scaling, we reached the plateau of Paugus, and for quite a while, had the expanse all to ourselves.  This would be the case for almost the entirety of the walk, encountering just a handful of fellow hikers on this day and a lightly-travelled mountain.

Did I say it was tiring?

Mount Paugus was named after Chief Paugus, a leader of the Pequawket tribe (a sect of the Abenaki Tribe), who died in 1725 at the Battle of Pequawket.  

Early in the climb, as one does, we opted to reimagine ourselves as Aragon, Legolas and Gimli hunting some orcs in their quest to save Merry and Pippen.  

It sounded good in our heads.  We were just really delirious to have found some flat surface at the apex of this cinematic journey.

The views from the top were spectacular, with the pallet of fall colors speckling the horizon.

This photographer's cell phone pics don't even come close to doing this panorama justice.

Far off to our left we could see Lake Winnipesaukee, along with Squam Lake.

To our right, was the peak of Mount Passaconaway, one of New Hampshire's vaunted 4,000 footers

We spent plenty of time resting up top, recharging, and chowing down, and just appreciating our ability to enjoy moments like these together.

In hindsight, we probably should have taken even more water than the multiple bottles of H2O that we did carry in our packs, as all of us felt varying signs of dehydration on our return down, despite having filled up on water whenever we could.  It didn't help that our descent included some not-so-effortless uphills back along the canyons and valleys of the Lawrence Trail.

As stated above, the unique aspect of having to climb back up hills hours into your downhill descent introduces a new challenge to your already-overtaxed quads, and served as yet an even stronger reminder of the critical importance of proper hydration.

When we got back to our car, my hiking/running/walking app clocked us in at just about six miles of hiking, 9 miles all told, coupling the Kelley Trail with the Lawrence Trail, and then returning via the Mast Road trail.  And the health data chart reminded all three of us of the ups and downs of this formidable climb

And while the climb logs in at an elevation of 3,185 feet, this humbler was unquestionably more difficult than some of the 4,000 footers we've conquered in the past.  Go figure.

All three of us were proud of our accomplishments, but absolutely recognized the toll it took on our toes, Achilles muscles, and quads.  And that was WITH the aforementioned walking sticks to assist.

So in retrospect, and hearkening to the title of this post, the adjective august means inspiring reverence, admiration, dignity, or grandeur; majestic, venerable, or of high rank.

Paugus the Mighty Oak, you earned all of that and more.

Twin Peaks

As regular readers of this blog know, every Columbus Day weekend, Andrew and I have managed to eke out some type of mountain hike or climb, going back almost two decades, even before Andrew entered his high school era.

Some of the hikes have been legendary, such as the now-infamous Mount Moosilauke climb of 2020, a day still spoken only in whispers by those who experienced it.  They say mountains do strange things to a man?  That particular mountain defined even Stranger Things.

We try, whenever possible, to notch a different notch every year, just to take in the wonders of the peaks of New England.

This year's destination was Mount Kearsarge in Warren, New Hampshire, and joining us for this year's trek was Katie, who was born for outdoor exploration, and Barry, who was born to run.  This day, though, unlike two other nuts we saw on on the mountain, there wouldn't be much running in Barry's outing.

We got an early start, as we normally do, and thankfully in this case, as the early morning hours provided the best sunshine on the day.

Some fun facts about Mount Kearsarge as you scroll through some of our pics from the day:

The mountain's name evolved from a 1652 rendering of the native Pennacook tribal name for the mountain, Carasarga, which suppposedly meant "notch-pointed mountain of pines."

The mountain is accessible from several starting points, and due to a slight mountaineering error by ye humble mountaineer, that ended up with us coming through the Warner side of the mountain.

Why does that factor into this particular story? Because after driving up the scenic Kearsarge Mountain access road to the small parking lot, that left us with only a half mile climb to the summit, something we accomplished in less than half an hour.

The sun was still shining, but the clouds were starting to roll in.  More on that later.

From the summit, you literally have a 360 degree view of virtually all of the White Mountains, and to the south, eventually, the city of Boston.

Andrew and I, just trying to figure out what's what in the presidential range behind us.

The tradition continues.

Fire engulfed the top of this mountain in 1796, leaving the rockface bare still to this day.

Barry, psyching himself up for the next two-thirds of our hike this fall day.

Besides being absolutely enraptured by her surroundings when she's out in nature, Katie always manages to catch some stunning pics, regardless of the subject matter. 

Realizing we had gypped ourselves out of a true climb, we decided to take on the double trail stretch I had initially planned on using, accessing the mountain from Wilmot.

For this stretch, we needed to descend on the Barlow trail to get back to the main parking area below.

Our resident hobbit, Katie, always aware of her surroundings, wisely opted to get off the road.

Good thing, too, because the ringwraiths weren't far behind.

It wasn't the bridge of Khazad-dum, and I'm pretty sure Katie would have let anyone pass if they needed to.  Except a balrog, of course.

The Barlow Trail is named after Noel Holland Barlow, an Alberta-born fitter who was honored by city leaders after the acclaimed soldier Douglas Bader refused a street naming in his own honor and suggested Barlow instead.

We're still smiling here, because we're still working our way down on the Barlow trail.

Those smiles would change ere long.

Once we reached the base, it was time for hydration, some trail mix, some mushroom jerky (don't ask), and a quick refresh.

Then we began our climb back up to the summit again, this time via the Winslow Trail.

Emphasis on the SLOW in Winslow.

The Winslow Trail is named after Admiral John Winslow, the commander of the USS Kearsarge, which in June, 1864 sank the CSS Alabama in the English Channel in a famous Civil War sea battle. 

The look on Andrew's face was one of surprised as we approached one of the steepest parts of the climb, not to mention technical.

Challenging, yes, but this is why we so love these excursions - they push us physically, mentally, and allow us to see parts of New England well off the beaten path.

Emphasis on beaten.

Not sure if they halfway marker is meant to inspire us or break us, but either way, it had the expected effect.

Katie, in her element

And then once again we were back at the summit, ergo the name of this blog post, hitting the same summit twice, with a nod to one of my favorite tv shows of all time, don'tcha know

We decided to ascend the fire tower atop the summit this second visit.

This time, however, it was sans direct sunlight, and the temps were starting to hint at the pending nor'easter set to hit New England later that night.

Don't be fooled by the warm smiles, we were freezing.

And yes, it was incredibly windy.

Barry, meanwhile, was looking for the mushroom-pickers the national park ranger told us we would find along our journey.

The man in the tower, freezing his ass off.

Look west, young man

One of several cairns along the trails, though this one is at the mountain's summit, 2,937 feet above sea level.

Our second group selfie, a few hours later, and significantly colder than our first pass through

Sadly, it was time to head back to the car and call it a day.

We ended up just shy of five miles overall for the double-summit adventure

Here's hoping there's many more mountains in our future.

We'll keep on ticking off the different mountains whenever we're able.

And hopefully, we'll all be healthy enough to continue scaling to the summits, not to mention spending some quality time with the people we love.

See you at the next summit!