Last summer, my seven-year-old daughter, Challen, was no longer content to simply listen to tales about my old hiking adventures. She wanted to hit the trail herself. I decided to bring her to one of my favorite spots, the White Mountains of New Hampshire, home to the highest, most scenic range in the Northeast. Ordinarily, a backpacking trip across 4,000-foot peaks would be a bit advanced for a seven-year-old. But the Appalachian Mountain Club's hut-to-hut system, the most accommodating chain of high-elevation shelters in the nation, made my decision easy.

For years, these 10 humble but homey shelters have provided cozy beds, warm meals and a special community for adventurers. About $200 per day covers food, lodging and activities for a family of four. The digs aren't plush--the communal coed bunk rooms sleep up to 90 travelers, and there's no electricity or hot water--but they provide the safety and security a family craves after a long day's hike. Each hut is staffed by a hut master and crew, who offer fun programs to families and help them plan their route as they explore each locale. Since the hut system is free-form--there's no official tour guide who takes you from spot to spot--hikers choose which huts they want to visit and when. Flexibility lets families create a trip that suits their time frame.

Although there's plenty of private time on a hut trip, you'll also meet visitors from all over the world. During my four-day hiking journey with Challen, we shared meals with a family from England, an herb farmer from Massachusetts, a local obstetrician and his kids, and a corps of World War II veterans, among others.

Challen and I prepared for our adventure by working up to 7-mile hikes through the Great Smoky Mountains near our home and plotting our itinerary: a night in Boston, where we'd fly into Logan International Airport, pick up our rental car and drive three and a half hours north to the White Mountains, then spend four nights in the huts. Our practice hikes allowed Challen to break in her boots and strengthen her legs for the 18-mile mountain trek along the Appalachian Trail, and they got us used to the weight of our packs, which contained water, trail food, bug spray, lots of clothing to layer and a few other camping essentials--not to mention some nonessentials: Challen's blanket, which she lovingly sealed in a zip-top bag, and a tiny stuffed moose named B.J.

I also carried some heavy photography equipment. Challen christened my backpack "Ugh," which was the sound I made when I lifted it onto my shoulders. In keeping with a tradition among hikers, we bestowed nicknames on each other. Challen became known as Crackerjack, a name she had picked up at summer camp. My handle was Daddyman.



David Brill, of Knoxville, Tennessee, is author of AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE: REFLECTIONS OF AN APPALACHIAN TRAIL HIKER.

Please keep in mind that phone numbers, addresses, and prices are subject to change. Updated July 2005.