It doesn’t take much to get me outdoors. The first weekend in February proved that all I need to head out is beautiful clear skies, above-normal temperatures, light wind, and a plan. So, under those conditions I set off for one of my favorite mountain ranges.

The plan was a midwinter overnight trip to climb Mt. Adams on New Hampshire’s Presidential Range. I planned to spend Saturday night at Crag Camp, an enclosed hut that sleeps about 20 on the north side of the mountain. Then Sunday I hoped for one more clear day so I could summit.

At the Appalachia trailhead I had a number of trails to choose from, each leading to different places on the range. The Randolph Mountain Club, of Randolph, N.H., built an extensive network of trails into ravines, up ridgelines, and to waterfalls throughout the north side. Most of them date from the end of the 1800s and are maintained by the club to this day. The club also operates three cabins and a lean-to and tent site facility. The fee is $10, first come, first served.

I chose a route that followed the Airline Trail for about a mile, then turned on to the Short Line, then connected to the Randolph Path for a gradual but steady climb of about three miles to the Log Cabin. The lack of snow on the ground for midwinter was surprising. Instead of the usual four feet, there was only a couple of feet on the ground. The trail was “broken out” by previous hikers, so I didn’t bring snowshoes. There was just soft snow under my boots as I made the ascent through the bare hardwoods on the lower slopes.

I stopped for a lunch at the cabin, a three-sided log structure open on one end with a porch. There were two other guys there who were going to The Perch, the lean-to and tent site facility on the northwest slope of the mountain. They left while I was eating, then two more people, a man and his wife, arrived as I was loading up my pack.

They were going to Crag Camp as well, so we left together for the hardest part of the hike, that last mile or so up to about 4,000 feet, where Grey Knob Camp and Crag Camp are located, about a half-mile apart. The elevation gain is about 1,400 feet. As soon as we left the Log Cabin, we had to cross the first ice we had encountered so far. It ran for about a hundred feet up the middle of the trail, over ledges and up the ridge. They had strap-on ice creepers and I wore crampons as we made the ascent. Then the trail got steep. By the time we got to Crag Camp, the sun was setting as we unpacked.

During the hike we learned each other’s names. They were Tom and Erin Shea from Barre, Vt. Now, in the camp we met more winter mountain enthusiasts who had arrived ahead of us on other routes. There were a couple of fathers with their teenage sons and friend. There was one other guy, solo. All totaled, nine of us were in the camp for the night. There was no wood stove, but body and cooking heat warmed the place up quite nicely.

The camp itself is exceptional. It was rebuilt in 1993, after the old one wore out, literally. It sits at 4,200 feet perched on an outcropping of rock overlooking King Ravine. Across the ravine is Mt. Madison and to its right, Mt. Adams. There are huge cathedral windows that let the view inside. There’s a tiled cooking area, dining tables and benches, and a Scrabble board. After supper we all sat around and talked about our hikes past, swapping horror stories and suffer-fests. The caretaker collected our fees. Finally, after checking out the stars, that seemed to look closer, brighter and more numerous in the winter sky, I headed for the bunkroom and my sleeping bag.

In the morning the sun rose over the ridgeline of Mt. Madison. It was subtle and spectacular all at once. It would be a gorgeous day for hiking the second-highest peak east of the Mississippi and north of the Carolinas. The sounds of my camp mates packing stirred me out of the bunk. It was warm in the sleeping bag as the temperature probably only dipped to the 20s overnight.

After breakfast of oatmeal, an orange, and coffee, I packed a small summit bag with just a lunch, snacks, camera, and a wind jacket and headed up to the top, about a mile and a half away. The camp sits just below tree line and to reach it required some steep trail travel. Once above the trees, the views of the valley below and mountain itself made me stop to take it all in. There were Gorham and Berlin, N.H., at my feet. Looking into Maine I could identify the Mahoosucs and Mt. Blue in Weld. There was no wind, none, on the windiest range in the world.

Underfoot, the absence of deep snow was remarkable. Looking up to the summit, the landscape was of patches of shallow, mixed snow, ice, and rock. Crampons weren’t really needed, but I wore them anyway to give my boots a little extra grip. After passing trail intersections with the Appalachian Trail and others, I found myself on the summit cone, just below the top. There was even less snow there than below. Soon, Tom and Erin arrived and we climbed the last few hundred feet together.

What a morning to sit on top, gazing across the Great Gulf at the presidentials: Washington, Clay, Jefferson, and Madison.

If you didn’t know better, you’d have thought it was like this every day. But, of course, it’s not. The range is the home of the most severe weather in the world and Mount Washington, in particular, is the deadliest mountain in the country because of it. But today the perfect conditions allowed us views west into Vermont of Mt. Mansfield and Camel’s Hump. All this made it hard to leave, but after an hour and a half, it came time to go.

Time and again on the descent, Tom, Erin, and I talked about our luck in “summiting” on such a fine day. It was what every trip to a high peak should be. We had shared great company, outstanding views, and time on the trail. Soon, we reached the camp and packed up for the descent to the valley floor. I hiked down in fairly quick time and was back to the truck by late afternoon. Along the way I had time to think about what a trip it had been. Through the bad and good of it all, the trudge to the camp with a full backpack, the overnight in the company of great folks while sharing stories and the long descent, there’s nothing like getting above tree line in midwinter.

Brad Viles is an avid hiker who has logged some 8,000 lifetime miles, including the Appalachian Trail. A trail maintainer for the Maine Appalachian Trail Club, he has climbed Mount Katahdin more than 75 times. He can be reached at sball1@ prexar. com