EIGHT MILES TO HEAVEN
During my senior year at Florida Southern College, I was able to take a Journalism course through the Communications Department. My instructor was Hal Waters (FSC ‘53). Our final assignment which weighed heavily upon a passing grade was to write a story for a magazine and submit it for publication. Of the 16 students in my class, my story was the only to go to print. It came as a complete surprise when I received a $50 check in my college mailbox for my submission along with a copy of the magazine! Back then, that was a lot of money for a financially burdened college student! Professor Waters was a teacher who encouraged me as a writer to be a coherent thinker, to think outside the box, to be patient, and most importantly to pay attention to detail.
Who knew that my story “Eight Miles to Heaven” coupled with my being a writer for my college newspaper would help land me one of my first full time employment positions as a Sports Editor for a NH newspaper when I graduated from college!
I have now climbed Mt. Washington 9 times – one by automobile with my family (I was too young to remember), the 1979 ride by motorcycle that accompanies this blog, the hike in 1994 with my high school girls varsity soccer team on our way to a state championship the same year (up and down the mountain in one day!), and 7 more times by motorcycle. It remains, without a doubt, one of the most exhilarating and “on-edge’ rides I have ever taken. My one remaining goal for this mountain would be to ‘hit for the cycle’ (car, auto, hike, bicycle) and take on the Mt. Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb which is only held one day per year and only open to 250 cyclists. On sign-up day, the 250 registration spaces fill in a matter of about three hours! However, it is on my bucket list! And who knows – Two Wheel Dreams do come true!
The accompanying photos were taken by an instamatic portable camera. Remember, the first camera phone wasn’t on the market until 1999! Just to have any photos from 1979 is remarkable. They are a little blurry from aging in a scrapbook, but they still share a time to be remembered. Another side note – the road is now all paved. Back in 1979, only the beginning was paved and the rest was dirt, making this a much more challenging ride then than it is today!
Below is the 1980 story as contributed to the “Touring Bike Magazine, The Magazine for Street and Touring Motorcycles”, May 1980 Issue.
Eight Miles to Heaven
By David W. Elliot
It is truly a definable ride and one that will add a memory to anyone’s life; it most certainly did to mine. New England during the summer months has an attraction for vacationists and that includes motorcyclists. Located in the heart of the White Mountain National Forest in the state of New Hampshire lies a particular mountain that many people hike, climb and drive each year. It is a towering massive peak that rises 6,288 feet above sea level and is the highest mountain north of the Carolinas and east of the Rockies.
A friend, who was riding a 750 Honda, and myself aboard a 500 Honda four, were heading north on Route 16, weaving our way through the evergreen forest. We made a decision to stop for a “saddle break” and the small tourist area we had pulled into was across the mountain from a toll booth regulating the Mount Washington Auto Road. This was the mountain I had heard so much about and it was standing right in front of me. It was something we couldn’t pass up.
I must admit I had a few butterflies in my stomach as we paid the $4 toll and started off, but they quickly disappeared as I began to concentrate on the road. It climbed at a steady pace without steep pitches and without guardrails, but there are small areas to stop and view the panoramic sights. The first four miles is mainly through forest with occasional openings of a spectacular vista developing below. As the Halfway House is passed, different treelines become more evident as the struggle for survival plays a large role.
As the road wound upward, each new turn opened up more of the country. My mind and eyes were having difficulty grasping the vastness and beauty on every side, and I realized it was getting colder. It was 78 degrees when we left the bottom and now it was about 40. It took about 45 minutes to reach the top and when we did it was an indescribable feeling that one can only sum up a feat of conquest. I looked down at the road we had just come up, so tiny it seemed it just circled round the mountain in and out of view.
To my right loomed the northern peaks of the Presidential Range and then wave after wave of hundreds of smaller mountains as far as one could see. It was a lake-dotted forest that looked hardly touched by civilization. It was truly another world as close to heaven as I could ever be while living. I looked at my bike. It’s just amazing what man, machine, and two wheels can do. As I left the mountain that day I knew it was a climb I would never forget and something that would stand out in my life as long as I lived. Heading south on Route 16, a new sticker was attached under my license plate, “I Climbed Mt. Washington” and that I did.
Larry and Mary Ann sit on the banks of the Swift River which runs along sections of the Kancamagus Highway. It is a beautiful river and great for trout fishing, meditating, and swimming when the water current is gentle.
Later in the afternoon, relaxing in the middle of the Swift River.
It was an afternoon of rivers, sunning, and driving the first day. It was beautiful cruising with no helmets, the wind blowing against your face, and the free clean country around us. We hit Route 3 North, and stopped at Profile Lake located in front of the Mountains, also called the Great Stoneface and The Profile. (It was a series of granite cliff ledges on Cannon Mountain that appeared to be a jagged profile of an old man. It was NH’s symbol until one night in 2003 when it came crumbling down.)
Arriving at Lost River Gorge and Boulder Caves (which were forged by the powerful forces of nature in NH’s Kinsman Notch) the next day, we hiked two hours up into the woods. Mary Pat is seen drinking the clear fresh water.
My friend, Larry, and Mary Pat stand on a walking bridge overlooking Lost River.
That’s me standing on another one of the Lost River bridges overlooking the cascading waterfalls.
Later that day, we cruised ahead in search of a campground a few miles north of Lost River. That’s me on my Honda 500.
I pulled a little closer to my traveling companion for a better camera shot.
We found a campground at Camper’s World in Lincoln NH for $6 for a two-person site for the night. I signed in with my first name and middle initial and Larry’s last name.
It had streamside and wooded sites for RV’s and tenters. I skinny-dipped for the first time ever that night and never thought it could be so good! After a super night, we headed north again. It was a cloudy day and we hoped it wouldn’t rain.
We hit Route 16 and went south. Around 1 PM, we approached Mt. Washington and its famous road, and it commenced raining!
About an hour later, the rain turned to a fine mist. The roads were wet and slippery, so we took it easy with a 12% average grade. As the road climbed, some of the elevation pitches reached 18%.
The higher we got, the more the mountain opened up to us. I stopped and waited for my partner to catch up, happened to look in my mirror and got this shot – a very unique picture indeed! On and on eight miles up and we were into the clouds!
And finally, some 45 minutes later we reached the top. The last 50 yards was a 22% grade! The temperature had stopped from 78 degrees to 48 degrees. It was misty and cold.
But definitely worth it. The sites were gorgeous. It was as close to heaven as I would ever be while living.
Down we went. Just fantastic riding – so adventurous,
So challenging,
Circling round and round…
It seemed to go by so fast, almost too fast…
And just like that we were at the bottom, but now the sun was shining.
The sun, straining to make its way through the forest, was like a symbol to us that we had accomplished our goal, confident and ready to go…
And as darkness fell upon us, only my headlight shined on.
All that remained now was a little piece of paper (a receipt)…
And a vacation guide – showing a memory that we had climbed the highest mountain in the northeast – a memory that will live on in my heart.
Memories of ‘79!
UPDATE – #1
Sadly, my friend and riding partner, Larry Hart, passed away November 6, 2025, from lung cancer. Following college, we went our separate way, and several years ago I tried to locate him. I secretly dreamed of the day we would reunite and take a tribute tour through the White Mountains and up Mt. Washington. I finally found him through social media, only to learn that he was in his final weeks. I arranged a visit and drove my motorcycle to his home in Dover, NH. There I met with Larry and his wife. It was an emotional coming together of two friends who long ago shared a significant chapter of our lives doing what we loved most – riding motorcycles. He mustered all his strength to stand and we hugged for what seemed like an eternity. Shortly after my visit, Larry was treated to a roast at the Elks Lodge in Dover on Sunday, October 19, where many of his friends and family saluted him. Most knew Larry from recent years. I took the opportunity to speak with Larry sitting next to me and shared several of our stories from our teenage years and early 20’s. I held up the Touring magazine for all in attendance and spoke fondly of our “Eight Miles to Heaven” experience. Larry passed away at home 18 days later. I don’t have many regrets in life as I have been blessed to have a pretty storied life, but there isn’t a day go by since Larry’s passing that I don’t think about not having tried reaching out sooner. The only thing we can predict about life is its unpredictability.
I have kept in touch with Larry’s wife Gaylynne since my visit. Gaylynne knew that it bothered me that I hadn’t reached out sooner to reconnect (she told me Larry had told her the same), and she gave me some of Larry’s ashes to carry with me on my motorcycle rides across the country. His photo and ashes will continue to travel with me until I am able to make the trip up Mt. Washington to spread them at the top.
For those who have read this far, I implore you to not wait to reconnect with someone who made a difference in your life and whom you have not spoken to or seen in years. It breaks my heart that Larry and I never rode together again after that year in college, but I know that one day we will meet again – and perhaps we will finally get that chance to celebrate our heavenly milestone.
UPDATE-#2
Following Larry’s passing, his daughter, Tanya Hart, shared this post on Facebook with accompanying photos of our trip up Mt. Washington and through the White Mountains. Tears were streaming down my face as I read this.
Posted November 24, 2025 with accompanying attachment of Pink Floyd’s song “Fearless”.
“Yesterday was the last call and final goodbyes for dad. The last few months of his life were the most revealing into who dad was at his core. I always knew his values but he was humble and very rarely ever spoke about himself or shared any of his lore.
My life the last few years has been a game of nature vs nurture. Meeting my biological father and seeing how much we innately had in common vs the commonality with the man who raised me for 40 years as my primary father figure.
I always knew dad rode across the country but I never understood the extent of his trip. Meeting his high school buddy and hearing of their trip through Canada and back down through the states to Florida with a “fuck it, let’s do it” trip up Mt Washington’s unpaved road back in the late 70’s…WOW. A story that was even published in a motorcycle industry magazine.
My dad was never a lofty, “free” man. He was routine, regimented and committed to so much. Listening to this version of him leaves me wondering how much of him we lost to life and now to death.
Even in death I am excited to connect with dad through his friends and continue to unearth the lore of a stubborn man. I’ve been encouraged to keep writing- not just about dad but about all my pondering…
…and I will, as I always have, but maybe I’ll share it more.”
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