The EXTENDED Presidential Traverse in 1 Day by Mark Maesano

Parking lot, right before the hike:

Bright eyed and bushy-tailed. Flying high. Ready to take on the world. This is my coming out party. I'm coming up, you better get this party started. This is my fight song. Take back my life song. The 8th peak does not scare me. This hike does not scare me. I've already proven that I can do it. This is a walk in a park; an evening stroll. It's popcorn, cake, memory foam, and sleepytime tea personified, combined, and pervaded. I was once a babe in the woods, but I became a man on a mission.

1 hour later, 2nd mile:

My brother Mike set out his customary uncomfortably quick pace to start the hike. He does not walk across the eclectically shaped fields of rock that comprise these trails, he glides. But I wasn't worried; at least at first. I always struggle in the beginning. My breathing labors, my heart rate spikes, my body struggles to adjust. Even so, the first mile was quick; less than 25 minutes if I recall. But by the 2nd mile, I began to move progressively slower. I tried to bear down. I pushed harder. I yelled at myself. But as hard as I fought, it only got worse. Mike started to pull ahead, and pretty soon he was out of my sightline. Not entirely unprecedented, but this was the 2nd mile! And it wasn't just that I was moving slowly, I felt absolutely awful. And the more I tried to buckle down, the worse it got. Pretty soon, I was throwing up in my mouth and hyperventilating. Internally, I began to panic. Who did I really think that I was? Who was I fooling? I have become what I hate. I have disgraced myself and everything that I stand for. Did I really think I was going to be able to keep this up for another 23 miles with more difficult elevation and terrain to come? This is the easy part! I would have laughed if I were able... At some point, we completed the 2nd mile and Mike called down from long yonder, up above, seemingly already in the clouds: "That mile was a little slow, more than 40 minutes, we need to try and pick up the pace." Internal dialogue: If I throw your phone off the mountain, how will you know how long the next mile takes? What I said out loud instead: "I'll get better, I just need to get some calories in me." It was too much to even consider that I felt this bad and we still had another 10-12 hours of tough hiking to go. As I reflect on it now, with all factors taken into account, that stretch might have been the most difficult I've ever experienced in hiking.

Madison

It's like waking up from a coma. In an instant, you realize nothing hurts anymore. Hip flexors firing. Lungs contracting and expanding effortlessly. Heart rate well under control. Your legs feel strong. You feel light on your feet. What happened? Help me understand why you lost hope. Help me understand why you were so despondent over such a temporary setback. Help me understand how you forgot why you love to hike in the first place. The guy from the 2nd mile? He was gone. The guy from the parking lot was back. I'm unstoppable. I'm a buzzsaw with no breaks. Before I knew it, I had caught up to Mike. The mountain was my oyster. Kevin Garnett would say it like this: "anything is possible (echo, echo, echo)!" Except.... as we climbed Mount Madison, it became apparent that the wind was becoming more and more of a factor. As we ascended, at some point I realized that this was the strongest wind I had ever experienced. In fact, it was so strong that it felt like it was going to blow me off the mountain. As we reached the top, I realized I could not hear anything except the wind. There were a few brave souls at the top; and those that were trying to communicate were shouting at the tops of their lungs. Then the mountain decided to take something from me; it claimed my favorite hat; it flew off into the ether at breakneck speed... .how far did it travel? One mile, two miles, ten? It flew so far so fast and so forcefully that I barely noticed that every ounce of brazenness and overconfidence that I ever had was also swept into the whirlwind. Who am I? I'm a speck of dust, an insignificant crumb, and the mountain can choose to claim me at its good pleasure for its own reasons or no reason at all. I would do well to respect its sovereignty in the surreality of this place. I looked over at the normally surefooted Mike and he looked a combination of awe, unsteadiness, and careful concentration. It was time to get off this rock and descend.

Adams

Before the ascent up the notoriously difficult Mount Adams, Mike and I encountered a fellow hiker that was also attempting the 1 day Presidential traverse. She looked to be late 20's, in fairly good shape, and struggling. She explained that her friend had already called it a day and quit. Maybe she was channeling me, circa mile 2 on this day, and she ultimately came out of it and completed her goal. We didn't see her again, so I can't be sure. But truthfully, I highly doubt that she made it. My guess is that she bailed at Mount Washington if she even made it that far. My internal reaction to this situation does not cover me in glory. Because if I'm honest, it gave me a burst of energy. Afterall, I was on the wrong side of 50; they appeared to be in their 20's, but I was winning, anyway. Should I have felt empathy and concern that these young women probably felt disappointed that they didn't make it? Yes! But truthfully, I didn't. We completed Mount Adams without incident. It's a tough mountain, but it's fairly short and we had fresh legs so it was not too bad.

Jefferson

I hate this mountain and everything that it stands for. It is a long, neverending slog. I struggle with mountains like this. I was still mostly keeping up with Mike at this point; and as such we had the opportunity to have some conversation. His innocuous comments started to become grating. Mike: "Boy, this mountain never ends... it just keeps going on and on... this is pretty brutal, etc...." I started to perceive ill intent behind his comments, and pretty soon I wasn't sure if he was trying to make pleasant conversation or to bust my chops in a mean spirited way. I briefly considered throwing him off the mountain, but quickly realized that would be a mistake, especially if I had misread his subcommunication and tonality. By the time we got to the top of the mountain my mood had deteriorated and I was starting to feel tired, hungry, and grumpy.

Washington

I've done this hike three times and all three times I've struggled with this section. It is not difficult; but long, tedious and tending towards cold. It's also a very strange angle to the top so I always feel like I'm lost. I started to fall behind Mike early and often and by the time we were halfway up, he was out of sight. Again. And I was laboring. Again. The ghost of Mark mile 2 had returned with vigor, and he wanted answers. What did I really think I had to prove? Why was I doing this? Every motivation was examined in the light of ego stripped exhaustion. Every mistake was ruminated upon, rehashed, and navel gazed. Didn't I realize that if only I had done the right thing in my life when I was in high school I wouldn't be suffering right now? I would literally be jumping for joy and frolicking in the sunshine. In fact, all of my problems would be a quaint whisper of a memory; something to ponder with bemusement and merriment.

The top of Mount Washington- lunch!

Mike and I had vowed to stop for only 7 minutes for lunch and we were very close to being true to our vow. Swing thoughts: I have to give it to Trish, of all the things I've ever learned about hiking, one of the most important is to not rest too long. Your body gets stiff, you shut down, and it takes too much energy to get going again. In practical application, I learned this lesson by hiking with Mike and Trish; always being behind, and never having an opportunity to rest. Queue the cliche: it was a blessing in disguise. That 7 minutes was short but very important. The idiom says that a cat has 9 lives; but the idiom was incomplete. A hiker also has 9 lives. Hip flexors firing again. Lung capacity and capillaries doing the job. Heart and nervous system: as cool as the other side of a pillow. Shady's back!

Eisenhower

This is my favorite mountain on this hike and one of my favorite mountains out there. Every time I've hiked it, I've had the good fastball. Today was no different. However: I tried to put the pedal to the metal and leave Mike in the dust, but I could not shake him. When we got to the top, I already knew that we would have enough left in the tank to go for the infamous extra peak- Mount Jackson.

Mount Jackson

I should have known when Mike said he remembered Jackson to be a relatively easy, relatively short endeavor that we were in for it. Not only did Mount Jackson add an extra 6-7 miles to our already grueling hike, it featured one of the longest and toughest downhills that I had ever attempted at that point. We love downhills, both Mike and I excel at them. However, a steep, challenging downhill at the end of a hike like this is a recipe for disaster- especially when it's unexpected. We seemed to make it to the top of the mountain pretty well, but as we began the descent, it started to get tough. And the mountain was playing mind games on us. About a mile of the way down, we could hear cars from the parking lot! Could it be that 2.5 miles up, we were being taunted by a mountain that relished in trying to get us to believe that we were almost there? I looked over at the normally even keeled Mike and he was getting antsy. Every few minutes, he would let out a welp- something to the effect of "where does this end?" I didn't have the heart to tell him we still had quite a bit of work to do. It had been a trippy day and this sequence was no different. It was Wacky Wednesday on a Saturday as the normally unflappable Mike was acting testy and unpredictable; more like me. And I was in my safe space, non plussed and non reactive; Mike style. But eventually the parallel reality corridor came to its conclusion and we made it to the bottom. We know that in this world, nothing lasts forever (and we both hearts can change).

This concludes my recounting of a pretty fun and pretty interesting day. Thanks for reading.

-Mark Maesano. June 2026

Contact

Questions or stories? Reach out anytime.

Email

mikehikesthedolomites@gmail.com

© 2025. All rights reserved.

-MikeHikesTheAlps