Seven State High Point Road Trip

So why do I keep high pointing? Do I think I will finish at least the lower 48 states? I will take them on as time and money allow. In the meantime, it is an adventurous hobby.

The fun part of high pointing is that each one has an interesting “fact” surrounding it or a charm all its own. For instance, not many years ago you could get shot at trying to attain Jerimoth Hill in RI.  Mt. Mansfield in VT is so named because it looks like the profile of a man--the chin being the summit. (On a side note, Paul recently agreed with the likeness to that of a man, but only if the so-called profile is that of an “Easter Island” man.) Clingman’s Dome was thought to be the highest point in the east until Dr. Mitchell proved otherwise (Mt. Mitchell in NC gets that claim to fame). Mt. Rogers in Virginia is in the Grayson Highlands, a lofty playground of ridges, expansive views and wild ponies. Before climbing Black Mt. in Kentucky, you need to sign a waiver—it’s an active coal mine.

Plus the names beckon me with their intrigue and romance. Mount Greylock, Ebright Azimuth, Backbone Mountain, Charles Mound, Spruce Knob, Brasstown Bald.

I plan adventurous, albeit long, road trips. My longest so far was bagging seven states up the East Coast. After visiting WV, MD, DE, and NJ, I drove to New Haven CT to visit my niece Susanna who is working on her doctorate at Yale.

Susanna was willing to take time out of her busy dissertation writing schedule to become not only a gracious hostess but a high pointer for a weekend. (A side note about driving the thruway around NYC—don’t leave space between you and the car in front of you even if you’re all traveling at 85 mph because you’re just inviting a collision to take place in front of your eyes as drivers jockey for the new space.)

Mt. Greylock, top left in the clouds

The morning after I arrived, we drove up to Adams, MA in the very NW corner of the state. The plan was to hike to the summit of Mt. Greylock and have Joanna, who drove down from Vermont, pick us up at the top.

















Susanna and I parked at the AT trailhead and started up the 5.5 miles. Some of it was quite vertical and took longer than we thought. The summit has a charming stone lighthouse-like tower. When we saw the tower dome winking brightly in the sun like a diamond through the trees, we almost ran to the top.
 

A jubilant Joanna, who had been dozing peacefully in the sun, soon met us and we had a celebratory tailgate lunch in the parking lot.

Next on our list was Mt. Frissell in the very NW corner of Connecticut (we were always careful to pronounce the middle C in that state's name). Susanna decided to ride with Joanna so they could catch up on news. I let the girls lead because they had smart phones. But they were so busy talking that they kept missing turns, even after announcing them to me via cellphone. (Smart girls + smart phones should = good navigation, but joyful reunion + intelligent conversation cancels all that out.) 

Once instead of following their error and having to turn around in a gas station with them, I made the turn they missed and parked on the verge waiting for them. After a few minutes, I idly looked around and read a nearby sign: “Home of Edith Wharton.” 


 
Whatdaya know, I thought. I’ll have to come back and visit another day when there’s not a mountain to climb!

(And this, I found out later, is what I couldn't see beyond the wooded front of the estate!!)

 
As soon as we arrived in the vicinity of Mt. Frissell, we became a little lost. In fact CT gets my vote so far as the “hardest trail head to find”.  I finally pulled in at Bash Bish Falls State Park and approached a local for directions. He immediately asked did we have a map. When he saw Susanna and Joanna offering smart phones, he said, “No, I mean a paper map. ” His demeanor gave it a double meaning and sounded like "proper map". I fetched my map, he soon got us sorted out and we found it easily.

 







Now the interesting fact about CT’s high point is that it is not a summit. It is on the shoulder of Mt. Frissell whose summit is in MA. Where is the glory in that? They think so too, because it is barely marked. In fact the only marker is the state line marker, that little green pipe in the benchmark around which we are squatting. High pointers and other hikers refer to the CT high point (2,380 ft.) as "the green stake". Nearby Bear Mt. (2,316 ft.) is the highest mountain totally with the state and is visited much more often and boasts a handsome rock tower.  

Boundary Peak in Nevada is also a high point on the slope of a mountain that summits in another state (CA).

Other states celebrate their high points with anything from giant obelisks (NJ) to big signs with altitudes clearly marked, church-like reverence with benches (IN), bird feeders (MD), log books, 2 lawn chairs to enjoy the view (IL), flags (OH), giant cairns, etc. Poor ConnecT-icut.

 


We made it back to New Haven in time for a pizza from Sally’s (best pizza ever). There is normally a big line outside.

Susanna is their neighbor. She called in our order, walked down the block, cut through the lines, and was back in moments. This arch marks the Little Italy neighborhood entrance.

Sally's is easily the best pizza I've ever had. And I have had pizza in NYC and in Italy.

Yes, our fingers got powdery black stuff on them. We used lots of napkins.

Sally's and a bottle of my homemade Old Vine Zinfandel wine. An after-hike dinner dreams are made of.

 

 

Two-fisted coffee drinker

The next morning we allowed ourselves not only to sleep in, but to have a luxuriously long coffee hour. Because the last high point  on my list didn't require an early morning start. It didn't even require hiking boots or a day pack. It involved a comparatively short drive over the state line and then an even shorter "hike" to Rhode Island's high point.

We consulted our map and made plans for the day while Joanna finished off the coffee.

   High Pointers once considered Jerimoth Hill less accessible than Mt. McKinley. For some years the rocky outcrop and summit area was owned by Brown University and used as an astronomy observatory site. They referred to it as "little Mauna Kea." But a privately owned driveway was the only path that led to it, the owner of which got so tired of the high pointer traffic, he denied access. He heavily posted his driveway with No Trespassing signs, even shooting at people who tried. Eventually the high pointers club talked him into opening it 5 days a year during national holidays. Later it was sold to owners who welcomed hikers, and now it is owned by the state of Rhode Island and open to anyone 7 days a week.

We crossed the border into Rhode Island, and shortly saw the sign that marked the hill. I pulled the car off the road and parked on the sandy verge. After the obligatory high point sign photo, we started strolling. This is a pleasant walk-up high point with towering scented pines and quiet paths.

 






It was very well marked. Almost obsessively so, for such a small place. We found 3 of these geological markers, each time thinking we were at the high point. But then doubting ourselves.

We were quite worried that we might fail our summit bid, so I sent the girls searching for the "true summit".

And then we found the "real" rocky outcrop. Voila!

While we were there, a man strolled up in a suit and tie. “High pointer?” I asked.

“Yes, and these aren’t my usual hiking clothes,” he quipped. He was from DC and on his way to a wedding and saw the chance to bag another state. We high pointers not only run into each other at high points, but we could pick each other out of a crowd. Must be that silly happy grin to be chalking up one more.

On the way out we saw his wife sitting in the car and waiting with a bored but patient look on her face. She didn't even want to walk the 500 ft. to see the high point.
 

After such a grueling morning, we were ready for lunch. We drove back down the hill and found what else but the "State Line Diner".




It struck me how so many of the states I have finished so far have high points on or near state line borders. Tennessee's high point is on its eastern border. In fact, Appalachian Trail hikers say that they hike with their left foot in Tennessee and their right foot in North Carolina.  Spruce Knob in West Virginia is very close to VA. When I drove from there to Backbone Mt, I had barely crossed into MD to reach its high point. As I drove away from  Deleware's high point I recognized Pennsylvania's cautionary traffic signs and realized I had crossed the border. New Jersey's high point (called High Point) is right up in the northwest corner of the state by NY and PA. CT's is on its border with MA and very close to NY. Susanna and I missed a turn to MA's highpoint and within a minute's drive, we were in VT. Later I was to find that the turnoff to Kentucky's high point is right before a sign that welcomes you to Virginia. And Virginia's high point is just north of the NC border.

Perhaps they should start building High Point State Line Diners. Like this one we stopped at for lunch. It was great food and great fun. Think of the souvenirs they could sell.

I figure I’ll travel across the southern states this winter some time when other snow-covered high points are unattainable. Florida should be easy!