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| Lakes crew enjoying the sunset |
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| 6:30am wake-up at Mizpah |
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| View of Mt. Carrigain from Zealand |
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| AMC apple pie |
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| Full house at Lakes |
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| Spice rubbed pork loin |
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| Unanticipated mattress pack to Lakes |
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| Consulting the cookbook at Carter |
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| Blanket Folding Demonstration (BFD) at Greenleaf |
Can anyone name the mountain and geologic features behind these clouds? We've seen our fair share of rain and clouds over the past few days so I decided to take advantage of some fair weather today and get out for a quick hike. 
Happily, if you hike up to Square Ledge over the next five days, you'll not only see the emerging green leaves filling Pinkham Notch but also clear blue skies over Mt. Washington and the last little bit of snow in Tuckerman and Huntington Ravines. With a beautiful forecast for the weekend, this is a great time to check out some other views in the Whites or visit one of the six huts that are currently open for self-service.
I didn’t always know how to cook pancakes. I reflected upon this recently at 5:30 AM, half-asleep before a griddle of sizzling butter and batter islands. It was still pitch black outside and in some recess of my skull, a tiny version of “MacArthur Park” was playing. The cakers were bubbling to life, firm around the edges and begging to be flipped. As I turned the spatula with careful sleight-of-hand, revealing an amber underbelly on each flapjack, a murmur of terror ran through me, as if saying, “Please Miles, don’t screw these up. Please. I’ll buy you a new pair of hi-tops, I’ll clean your future apartment. Why, I’ll even erect a synagogue in your name. Just. Don’t. Mess. Up.”Most souls who find their way to seasonal employment in the huts come with experience in cookery, education and/or hospitality. Fresh out of high school in 2007, I moved into Lakes of the Clouds Hut with no expertise in any of those fields, unless you call washing dishes and eating cold mashed potatoes from the walk-in at a fraying hamlet called The Granite Café a job. What I did have was a pair of hiking boots, a bag of Halloween costumes and the stubborn hope that I would be hired for my love of the White Mountains and taste for theatrics, having enjoyed many a BFD (the breakfast skits) during previous hut visits.
Either my “Aw, Shucks” candor was more affecting than I realized or the applicant before me had come into the AMC’s Joy Street office with human flesh on their chin. I got the job. Before I knew it, I was skipping my prom to go toss sacks of flour into a rat-proof closet and learn the art of “proofing” yeast, 5050 feet above sea level, rime ice still frosting the boulders.
There were hiccups. My first attempt at cooking a breakfast for 93 people was a near disaster. Having never used a griddle before, I attempted to cook a batch of pancakes on the griddle cover, with the burners on high heat. Had a fellow croo member not noticed the smell of burning wood, recovering from the experience might have required psychotherapy. Another evening, I announced to a full dining room of guests that I would be serving a traditional British pudding dessert called “Spotted Dick”. The announcement was received with stunned faces and muffled laughter from a table of large French Canadian men. Clearly, I had not taken into account that some of our horrified patrons had not ventured outside the United States, let alone New England. I stayed in the kitchen for the rest of the evening, brewing coffee and avoiding eye contact with the crowd.
But things got better. Despite never quite mastering traditional yeast breads, I taught myself how to bake Irish Soda Bread for the ages, stuffing the beast with almonds, walnuts, whole-wheat flour and other ingredients not normally employed during the Michael Collins years. I developed a passion for soup cooking, turning out endless concoctions of savory meet stewed in wine for hours with stocks, vegetables and enough spices to make a Spaniard swoon. Eventually, I grew to view “cook days” not as challenges on par with a military patrol but an opportunity to slay my audience not with undercooked chicken (which, thank god, never happened) but elation: of how French onion soup, steaming lasagna rustico, and deathly sweet peanut butter squares could taste so good, let alone exist in this blessed patch of wilderness.
I have thought of this endlessly throughout the past weeks. As the leaves brown and winter’s breath creeps into the long, dark nights, I am preparing for a departure from the huts. Not just a seasonal one, a final exit as well. The last five summers – and this current fall – have been kinder to me than I thought possible for people my age, in our troubled economy. But with a college degree under my belt and a burgeoning interest in editorial media, urban dwellings and a Danish electronica artist named Trentemøller, I know I have reached the end of my lease in this indescribable place.
The temptation to prolong my stay is strong, as there is much that I will miss: the bristling anticipation of a hungry dinner crowd. The warmth of a bunk after a long day of work. An endless supply of Goldfish. That first cup of coffee in the small hours, when the birds have just stirred to life outside. But more than anything, I will always cherish the huts’ enduring backbone of good labor and good humor at all times. Where cooking, cleaning and assisting others is not outsourced but embraced with unabashed pride. Where one will not only learn from a mistake, but can learn to laugh about it as well.
The spirit of the huts is something I do not expect to encounter again, wherever my work and travels take me. Hopefully, I’m wrong, for in this age, that spirit and its tenants seem more important than ever. When the present is at conflict with the future, a home-cooked meal and a friendly face leap beyond their origins, into the realm of idols, where a whisper of assurance can still be found. Often, a pot of chicken is just that: a pot of chicken. But sometimes, it’s all we have left.
With love and gratitude,
Miles Howard
Lakes 2007
Lonesome 2008
Zealand 2009
Carter Hutmaster 2010
Madison Colonel 2011
Zealand Hutmaster Fall 2011
I firmly believe that the huts are magic. Out of the huts, I’m not a morning person. I’m not particularly fond of clearing tables or doing dishes, and my desire to carry heavy things up and down stairs is minimal. However, three seasons in the huts have found me bouncing out of bed at 5am to start flipping pancakes, dancing as I send hundreds of dishes flying through the sinks, and even enjoying packing significant percentages of my body weight down the Crawford Path to Lakes or up the Old Bridle Path to Greenleaf.
Now, I know that I’m idealizing. There are definitely days when the last thing I want to do at 5am—or even at six on days when I’m not cooking—is get out of bed and make breakfast; when explaining for the 20th time that we ask all visitors to pack out ALL of their trash starts to feel old; when I just don’t feel like scrubbing oatmeal out of the bottom of a pot. I definitely spent the first few weeks of this fall season in a fight with the Old Bridle Path, hearing myself whine “noooooooo” as I packed up the never ending sequence of steep ascents that cover the last mile of the OBP. But no matter what, coming around the corner and emerging into the Greenleaf yard—my backyard—brings a smile to my face.
I’ve always loved the White Mountains; I dreamed of working in the huts ever since my first visit to Lonesome as a kid and felt like I’d developed a pretty good knowledge of the area over many hiking trips. Now, I know these mountains with a new intimacy. I know every curve and contour of the Old Bridle Path and the Greenleaf Trail, the Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail and the Crawford Path. The names of plants and trees pop into my head unbidden and I can instantly identify the other peaks and ridges that surround me. At this point, I know the White Mountains better than I know the neighborhood where I grew up. I love looking up from scrubbing those gooey oatmeal pots and watching the morning’s valley fog disperse, revealing an ever changing patchwork of fall colors beneath. I love the energy of 48 new guests every night—and the opportunity to get to know smaller counts of 3 and 4. And, there’s nothing better than sitting outside with my croo members—my coworkers, my roommates, my friends, my alpine family—watching the stars after a long day of hard work together in the mountains.
If you talked to different croo members, you’d get different answers as to what makes the huts magical, but nobody would deny that magic. Yes, there are days when we’re tired and stressed about the quality of our soup or the weight of our packboards. There are days where all we want to do is curl up on a couch with a movie, a bowl of ice cream (which can go straight into the dishwasher afterwards) and an adoring dog at our feet. But take it from me, while the couch/movie/ice cream/dog combo is great, it can’t beat the magic of the huts. It can’t beat having your e-mail auto-reply up for months at a time or working so closely with 4 other people that everyday chores start to resemble choreographed dances. It can’t beat a daily diet of incredible sunsets and homemade bread or feeling your hard-earned muscles propelling you to the perfect perch on the side of a mountain. And while the actual percentage of our lives spent in the huts is relatively small, the magic of the huts is something that I know we’ll all treasure forever.
Emma Gildesgame
Greenleaf-Fall 2011
green to yellow, the alpine grasses turning a golden brown or frost on the car windshield, the early signs of fall are here in the Whites which marks my favorite time of year to be outside and enjoying the mountains.
pleasant one with temps in the high 60's and a light breeze to keep me comfortable. As I started at Lafayette Place, there were already a few leaves on the ground but as I ascended the 2000 ft to the hut, I could see more and more colored speckles on the trail and as I emerged out of the woods, I was able to get some great views of early color in Walker Ravine below Franconia Ridge.
thick fog which is typical in Franconia Notch but it created a quiet, ocean-like feel for my hike down Agony Ridge and back into the hardwoods. As I sit here at Pinkham Notch, I'm excited to get back out soon to see how other parts of the Whites are changing with the season. I know there's been some moose and beaver activity in the Zealand Valley, beautiful ridge hiking along the Twins and Bonds and some late season trout fishing up at Lonesome and Carter. As the leaves and temps continue to change this fall, we'll keep you updated with photos and some reports but don't just take our word for it, come on up and enjoy the Fall!
It's now mid-July, which means that the summer is in full swing. So far, it has been an absolute pleasure and joy to have the opportunity to work at the brand new Madison Spring Hut.
Madison Hutmaster, George Heinrichs, serves his father and the AMC's Presidents Society at an opening event on June 17th.
A Lakes crew member preps veggies for their alpine salad
A member of the AMC's professional trail crew builds a rock staircase on the Lonesome Lake Trail
Zealand Hutmaster, Jeff Pedersen, packs his first load of food for the season
Freshly baked foccacia cooling at Lonesome
Madison Naturalist, Johannes Griesshammer, "dives" while third year crew member, Leah Hart, "moves"
Greenleaf first years, Kelly Dennen and Katie Schide, serve split pea and ham soup to a hiking group from the mid-west
Just like we had planned, Madison Spring Hut opened it's doors on June 2 to kick off the start to the 2011 full-service huts season. After spending four years conceptualizing, designing, fund-raising, planning and building, we're proud to have the new Madison looking and functioning like the 21st century hut we envisioned.
who contributed to the project and all deserve much credit and thanks for making this a success. From AMC staff to chapters, members, donors, the OHA, JBI, LDa, WMNF, volunteers, contractors and many many others, thank you for your support. But, if it weren't for the talented and skilled 
Construction Crew members who dug deep over the fall, winter and spring suffering through horrible weather, broken equipment, unexpected obstacles and a very tight timeline, we wouldn't be here today. Thanks for a job well done CC.
using the new green systems, unpacking food, finishing last minute projects and turning this new building into a true high mountain hut. Although this is no easy task, there couldn't be a better group of dedicated people to do it. Between the six crew members, they've all worked prior seasons in the huts, three have been Hutmasters, four have been Assistant Hutmasters, two have been Naturalists and combined, they've worked at all seven other huts.
Tom Bindas building stairs for the main entrance.
A look down the bunkroom hallway from one side to another.
A finished set of bunks.
A bit more plumbing and the kitchen will be done.
A nice view after weeks of rain.
Construction Crew member hiking in for his weekend shift
Old bunkroom windows being removed along with some final shingling on the new bunkroom
New pine paneling in the Adams side bunkroom makes a BIG difference. Bunks will be assembled and walls built to make three smaller bunkrooms.
This is the Madison side bunkroom split up into three smaller rooms
The new bunk boxes, built in bench and small privacy screen by the headboard. Ladders and mattresses will be coming soon.
eavy wet snow from the April Fools nor'easter but despite the prolonged winter weather, the AMC's Construction Crew is back at Madison and back to work. Blessed with calm winds and clear skies last Thursday, we were able to airlift food, lumber and supplies to begin the spring construction.
of the fine wood work finished before it even gets to the hut, assembly will be quick and efficient and less wasted wood will have to be flown in and out. Plus, with a new design for our bunks and ladders, there can be a lot more time spent on the detailed wood work shown by the stack of bunk bed posts resembling Thor's giant meat tenderizer.
e hut this summer. For the last couple of months, we have been creating endless spreadsheets with items ranging from library books to mattresses to spatulas and soap dispensers. Some of these items have been stored at Pinkham but many are being purchased now to be airlifted in May.
that fell over the last 4 months, there were drifts over doors and windows and even a small one around the wood stove. Much of the "construction" that happened those first couple of days was in the form of snow shoveling but now that they have found the well and dug out the front door and stovepipe, the interior construction has resumed. In just the last week, the dining room and bathroom floor has been laid with the kitchen and bunk room floors next. After that, the kitchen will be built, the old bathroom converted into a third bunk room, energy systems installed and the bunks assembled. It sounds like a short list but it will take a huge amount of effort over the next two 
months to get the hut finished on time.
A couple of weeks ago, the 2011 summer Hutmasters and Assistant Hutmasters gathered at Carter Notch Hut to start our planning for the upcoming full-service season. After hiring our leadership teams in December, we had a lot to talk about and there was no better place to do it than a hut. We met at the 19 Mile Brook trailhead and took a leisurely walk up to Carter, catching up on how school was going and life since last summer, enjoying the snow covered trail which is a rare sight for these summer hut workers. In the photos, you'll notice some shorts and t-shirts but I can assure you it wasn't -22 degrees like it was yesterday, rather a balmy 45 degrees on the day after New Years.
will also be the Zealand Hutmaster this summer. The group pulled together a delicious lunch of burritos, nachos and birthday brownies to celebrate Harrison's 21st birthday, who will be the 2011 Lonesome Lake Hutmaster. Conversation over lunch ranged from topics such as guest service, food, education, safety, and how to be bosses. Although this group is well versed in hut operations from their years as crew members, for many of them, this is their first opportunity to be the one in charge so we spent considerable time discussing what it means to be a leader in and out of the huts.
hutman at the OHA's (Old Hutman's Association) Annual Meeting last fall, the years spent in the huts have a lasting affect on ones career and life. The lessons learned of teamwork, responsibility, integrity and leadership are invaluable no matter what career path is chosen and where one decides to go. This message happened to come from Three Star General, Richard Trefry, who worked in the huts in the 1940's and is the longest serving General in U.S. history. As the General reflected on his achievements, he eloquently spoke to current crew members stating that his experience in the huts was the best preparation he could have had for his life as a leader. He also challenged them to work hard, take responsibility for themselves and others, uphold the traditions of the huts and serve others the way Joe Dodge inspired him to. From the discussions we had at Carter, our leaders clearly got the message.
e we would see each other would be for training in late May. For the next few months, Hutmasters and Assistants will be going to class, taking exams and staying busy with their lives outside of the huts. But as we get closer to summer and even on days like today, I know they'll be thinking about the General's words, what kind of leader they want to be and how to run their own huts to the best of their abilities. There's a lot of time between now and then but I speak for myself and all crew members in saying we're already thinking summer and we're looking forward to it.
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