New Hampshire’s Presidential Range does not rise gently like Vermont’s neighboring Green Mountains. Instead, it heaves skyward, raw peaks bursting above tree line in a defiant jumble of boulders and broken rock.

From this vantage point, where lichens and alpine mosses cling to slabs of granite and mica schist, I stared into a misty emptiness near the summit of 5,367-foot Mt. Madison. Earlier in the morning, I clambered up a relentlessly steep trail watching clouds lower and visibility dwindle. By the time I reached the final scramble, instead of taking in what should have been a hundred-mile view, I could barely make out scrubby evergreens a couple hundred yards away. With little chance of the cloud cover lifting anytime soon, I contemplated the three-hour, knee-pounding, 4,000-vertical-foot grind back to the trailhead. I gulped down some water and began my descent.

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