By Marty Basch

Mount Moosilauke is one of the White Mountains most commanding mountains. A dominant icon, its hulking shoulders and bald dome crown tower above the landscape between the fertile Connecticut River Valley and imposing Franconia Notch.

Many have a love affair with the 4802-foot summit. There is much to be enchanted with from the many varied trails including the Appalachian Trail, to its waterfalls, brooks, ravines and spellbound alpine zone containing grassy areas, fragile plants and stony summit walled fortresses for protection against the wind when it howls and it frequently does over the exposed top.

Then there is the celebrated 360-degree White Mountain, central New Hampshire and Vermont panorama from the tundra.

Alas, I'll have to believe what other hikers and the guidebooks say about that.

I've twice climbed Moosilauke and have yet to see what lurks beyond my outstretched hand.

Wet

On a recent mid-week morning, my partner Jan Duprey and I made the trip to Moosilauke's wet, windy and fog shrouded summit for her 33rd 4,000-foot peak, deciding on what many say is the easiest way to climb the mountain. It is a 7.5-mile circuit using the rocky Gorge Brook Trail, sublime Carriage Road and relatively benign Snapper Trail for a southeast approach from Ravine Lodge Road off Route 118, the mini-Kancamagus Highway, outside Warren.

Dartmouth's ties to the historic mountain, which has seen summit hotels, automobile ascents on the carriage road and ski races down its winding old-school trails, are easily felt from the trailhead outside the rustic Ravine Lodge, an alpine staple since the 1930s, where civilized dirt roadside parallel parking is the norm.

The college owns 4,600 acres on the mountain's east side, operates the lodge and the trails are maintained by the Dartmouth Outing Club. The lodge is a popular spot for Dartmouth's freshman. Since 1935 the DOC has run trips for the incoming class, with an incredible 90 percent taking part in 2010.

Rocky

The sun was hiding behind the clouds in the cool of the early morning as we ascended counterclockwise along the Gorge Brook Trail. With apologies to rocker Joe Walsh, the trail is a rocky mountain way footpath that follows alongside a rushing brook for a spell. The stone work (and bridges) is well-appreciated on some of the moderate pitches as  the grade lessens a bit along the way through wonderful mossy woods.

Blue sky through shortening trees, a usual sign of an impending summit, was not the case. Instead, we passed posted signs of fragile vegetation ahead and climbed a knob where the wind whipped up a welcome and the foggy curtain was pulled across the landscape. We donned shells (later hats and gloves), for the otherworldly trek in the muted alpine zone.

Cairns worked their magic and we followed them well, aware of the summit's trail junctions that could be confusing in the ghostly mist. We ate PB&Js out of the wind behind a rock wall before descending the carriage road, nearly bumping into an ascending thru-hiker not easily spotted. The low scrub trees soon provided brief relief from the elements; two more thru-hikers ascended, and a young group of hikers doing the loop we were doing but clockwise.

Mellow

The descent was one of the most congenial from a big New Hampshire mountain. The carriage road was smooth in parts, a bit stony in others and relatively easy to follow in the inclement weather. The level walkway along the so-called Middle Peak was a pleasant surprise before heading down into the trees for good and connecting to the Snapper Trail. There we came upon three polite groups of youngsters from a summer camp, calling out to each other to stay to the right in order to share the trail.

I'll be calling out on Moosilauke too the next time I'm there, asking the trail gods to please open that foggy curtain so I can get a good peek of what it's hiding.