In our lifetime, if we’re lucky, we’ll see about a thousand full moons. One thousand. A generous number, yet also, finite. This summer, we decided to mark that passage of time with several friends by walking a high mountain ridge in New Hampshire’s high country at night, under a full moon. A presidential traverse. We started in the late afternoon at Appalachia, the traditional starting point of a Presi. Four thousand vertical feet later, we caught the sunset and I watched my 476th full moon rise over the flanks of Mount Madison, the lights of Madison Springs hut twinkling below in the distance. As the light faded and the warmth of the day disappeared, we unconsciously zipped our jackets up to our chins to keep out the chill and the biting wind. Lit by the pale blue light of the full moon, we wordlessly crossed off the summits. On Mount Jefferson, we scrambled up the last few boulder strewn feet to the summit and sat for a while, watching the mountains cast their long shadows over the sleeping valley below. Mount Washington lived up to its reputation, with strong winds and thick, soupy fog forcing us to take shelter in between the summit buildings as we ate a quick snack. The winds died as we descended to Lake of the Clouds and Mount Clinton, and on Mount Eisenhower, we stopped to take in the last view before dropping below treeline. Spread out across the ridge, each of us lost in our own thoughts, we approached Pierce, the last summit of the traverse. The sky lightened and the moon set. The sun prepared to start it’s dance across the sky, just as it has for a millions of years.
Videography and edit: Chris Shane
Writing and voiceover: Chris Bennett
Our Professional Work:
Chris Shane
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chrismshane.com
Chris Bennett
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14 окт 2024
