Mount Monadnock in NH Is a Tough Climb but With Gorgeous Worth-It Views

I’m originally from Colorado.

I’ve climbed 15 or more Fourteeners, mountains over 14,000 feet. I’ve dealt with altitude, loose scree, snow fields, switchbacks, and long summit days that start before sunrise.

So naturally, I looked at Mount Monadnock in New Hampshire and thought:

“3,165 feet? Cute.”

Yeah.

About that.

Apparently Mount Monadnock is considered one of the most climbed mountains in the world, and after hiking it this weekend, I completely understand why.

It was Mother’s Day, so the mountain was packed with families, moms, kids, experienced hikers, casual hikers, and apparently superhuman trail runners that I still don’t understand.

And listen… I respect mountain runners.

I just don’t understand them.

At one point, this woman comes flying past me on the White Dot Trail wearing tennis shoes, no backpack, nothing but her phone on speaker listening to a podcast about marriage and divorce.

Twenty minutes later?

Here she comes BACK DOWN the mountain.

Meanwhile I’m over there breathing like an unplugged vacuum cleaner trying to survive another granite boulder field.

Are you kidding me?

The hike itself was absolutely beautiful. The lower trails had great little water features, and I actually loved the rock scrambling on the way up. There were multiple spots where I had to stop, catch my breath, use my hands, and put my camera away because the climb got steep enough that every step needed planning.

And those rocks?

The granite rocks on Monadnock are NO joke.

Every single step matters.

READ MORE: Arethusa Falls Hike: New Hampshire’s Tallest Waterfall Is Worth Every Step

Eventually I made it to the summit, where probably 20 people were hanging out enjoying the incredible views. And honestly? The top was worth every painful step.

I dropped my backpack, grabbed my sandwich and an IPA, and the second I cracked open the can, a few other hikers heard it, looked over, smiled, and yelled:

“Cheers!”

That little moment of mountain camaraderie was honestly one of my favorite parts of the day.

After about 30 minutes at the summit contemplating my life choices, I started heading down the White Cross Trail.

That’s when things changed.

The descent was an entirely different experience.

Nothing but rocks.
Endless rocks.
Every single step felt like a math problem where the wrong answer meant a rolled ankle.

My thighs started cramping halfway down. My knees were cooked. And if my ankles had arms, they probably would’ve throat-punched me.

By the end, I was moving at an absolute snail’s pace just hoping the parking lot would magically appear around the next corner.

Spoiler alert:
It never did.

When I finally made it back to my truck, I ripped off my hiking shoes, slid into my Birkenstocks, sat on the tailgate for about 30 minutes, and stared blankly into space like a man returning from war.

When I got back to my apartment, I immediately popped Aleve and iced my ankles.

Will I hike Mount Monadnock again?

Honestly… I’m not sure yet.

And if I do, it’ll probably be because I need to reclaim the piece of my soul that mountain took from me.