I never expected to be a state highpointer. Heck, until 2018, I didn’t even know highpointing was even a thing! But now I’m carefully balancing on that tightrope between intrigue and obsession.

Let me back up a bit and explain what the heck I’m talking about…

What is state highpointing?

The goal of this hobby is visit the highest natural point in each state around the United States. Frankly, highpointing is not all that different than other 50-state challenges out there.

Some people want to visit all 50 state capitals. Others want to run a marathon in every state. Or play a round of golf, or drink a local beer, or visit the largest city in each one. No matter the metric, the common goal in each of these various 50-state challenges is to get out and do something you enjoy all around the U.S.

I’ve already visited 49 of the 50 states during my lifetime (Alaska still eludes me for some reason…). So it’s not like I really needed another reason to travel. But somehow, state highpointing wormed its way under my skin.

Looking back, it started innocently with a hike to the top of Mt. Katahdin (Maine’s high point) in July 2018. Then, as we traveled through New England later that summer, we hiked a few more summits of note. First, Mt. Washington, then on to Mt. Mansfield (New Hampshire’s and Vermont’s highest points, respectively).

It wasn’t like we were trying to climb to the highest point in each of these states. We were just looking for some challenging day hikes. And these three high points just happened to be some of the best peaks to scramble up when you’re on the East Coast.

Top of Katahdin
Our first high point (and possibly our hardest!)

Highpointing for sport

Shortly after we finished climbing Vermont’s high point though, serendipity intervened. I picked up the September 2018 issue of Backpacker Magazine and I stumbled upon Loren Mooney’s article entitled, “Confessions of a Reluctant Highpointer,” where she laid out her own circumspect quest to hike to all 50 state high points (she was currently at 48 – with just Virginia and Alaska left on her list).

The article sparked an interesting conversation over dinner that night, and I soon began to wonder about visiting some more high points. It wasn’t an absurd idea. We love to hike and be outdoors. We were traveling full-time around the U.S. And many of these peaks are in places already on our bucket list.

So why not visit Clingmans Dome (Tennessee’s high point) while we are in the Smoky Mountains? Or what about taking a quick trip to the top of Mt. Mitchell (North Carolina’s high point) while we’re in nearby Asheville? Before we knew it, we had five state high points under our belts and were 10% of the way done!

Highpointing really started innocently enough for us. It was a lark – NOT a goal. Just a little something fun to add to the sightseeing list if we were passing through a state. But, definitely not a goal worthy of any detours taking us out of our way.

A budding obsession with high points

As we continued traveling down the East Coast in late 2018, we booked a nice lake-front campsite near Clemson, South Carolina, with the primary goal of enjoying some fall hiking and fishing in the mountains.

Yet highpointing remained on my mind. Maybe we swing up state to Mt. Sassafras (South Carolina’s high point) for get our 6th state high point during our time there. And how far away was Brasstown Bald (Georgia’s highpoint)?

Unfortunately, fate intervened before we ever got the opportunity. A storm brought some unseasonably cold temperatures that dipped down into the 20s and 30s. We reluctantly canceled our reservations to South Carolina’s upstate, opting to head down to the warmth of Charleston instead, and then we were off to Florida for the winter.

I certainly didn’t regret our decision to change our plans. We love being in the warm weather (and so we does our RV). Yet, there was just a teeny, little part of me that was a bit sad we’d miss seeing those two state high points.

As I thought a bit more about it thoughout December, I wondered why I felt so disappointed. Was I becoming obsessed with this weird goal of visiting state high points? Were we going to start planning our travel based on whether there was a peak to bag nearby?

C’mon, now THAT was a ridiculous idea. Many of these state high points weren’t even real hikes.

Who really wants to visit an arbitrary point on a map just because it’s the highest elevation in a state? Ebright azimuth in Delaware isn’t even a mountain. Or a hill. It’s just a survey marker 448 feet above sea level. That’s not a challenge.

“What is wrong with me???” I wondered.

We took our photo on the summit of five state high points in 2018. Each one was a nice memory. But we didn’t need to continue seeking them out, right??

High Point Adventures Book
OK, maybe ordering a book on highpointing is a sign I’m falling down the rabbit hole.

The “lowest” high point

With our highpointing fling in our rear view mirror, we spent December 2018 and early January 2019 in Florida then it was time to head west to visit family on Texas’ Gulf Coast. As we looked at the road atlas at our route, we could see it was pretty much a straight shot along Interstate 10 the entire way to our destination.

And wouldn’t you know it, Britton Hill (Florida’s high point) was just only 23 miles off the highway. If we stopped for lunch in DeFuniak Springs, we could take a short detour to our sixth state high point.

Was that a crazy idea?!?

Perhaps it was. But we did it anyway. We drove to a remote parking lot near the Florida-Alabama border to pay a quick visit to Florida’s high point.

At a mere 345 feet above sea level, Florida claims the prize for the lowest of the 50 high points. Reaching this “summit” didn’t require a hike along a trail or even any physical endeavor like our other adventures. It was just quick two-minute walk from the parking lot to a stone monument in Lakewood Park.

Yet, I was still proud to check it off my list and claim that I was one state closer to getting all 50 high points.

Britton Hill
Look how tired I look. I might be getting altitude sickness…

Will 2019 be a “high point” year?

As silly as it sounds, I’m confident there we’ll probably visit quite a few more state high points in 2019. Our travels will keep us in the Southeast this winter, and we already had plans to visit Shreveport, Little Rock, and Birmingham.

(Hmmm. That gets us within striking distance of the high points in Louisiana, Arkansas, and Alabama).

There’s also a strong possibility we’ll return to upstate South Carolina to hike on the Palmetto Trail, and make up for the trip that we had to bail on last fall. So why not plan on grabbing the high points in Georgia and South Carolina while we’re there too?

And while I’m thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail this summer, I will pass by four new state high points in Virginia, New Jersey, Connecticut, and Massachusetts. It’s probably not a surprise that Keith booked campsites near some of these places so we could summit them together as I hiked my way up the East Coast.

So, yes, highpointing is something else I’ve added to my life’s bucket list. I may not get all 50 of them all. But, it’s all part of the journey.

sunset