Located in the White Mountains of northern New Hampshire, this mountain presented a nice day hike around Thanksgiving of 1996 to Mom, Nikki (the dog) and I.  The scenery was beautiful and the weather was great (for November in New England at least).  Something that impressed me was that the ice didn't ever seem to melt, but instead just accumulated all winter long.  In Colorado, the ice comes and goes relatively quickly, and I've never seen four foot icesicles in the Rockies.  Nikki is a real tropper, despite being grossly overweight from well-meant handouts.  She trots along back and forth across the trail as we walk a straight line, thus racking up three times the miles we two legged animals do.  Nikki has no fear of heights and I remember what a good thing it was I had her leashed at the moment she slid off the trail and down the icy rock face of the mountain.  I choked the snot out of her trying to lug her beefy carcass back up to safety, but I'm sure she was grateful all the same.  The hike went well, and after a few hours, we reached the summit.  After taking a few photographs and enjoying the view, we started to head down.  After following the trail without descendig for about 50 yards, we walked right into a large parking lot.  I hate it when that happens.  How impressive is it to climb a mountain if any yokel can drive his car up there?  Our only consolation was that the road was ice-locked (above) and allowed no access this time of year anyway. At any rate, it was a very nice hike.

     Nikki and I at the summit.

  The ice that never melts.