We wander around for a while, as we always do at summits. The volume of people here comes in all shapes and contours. We delay our actual summiting hoping to get the tippy top to ourselves. Alas, a large crowd surrounds the fifteen foot high mound of rocks; cold, antsy people getting blown about in the famous Mount Washington wind, waiting in line to get to the sign at the top. We too wait, understanding very quickly that to spend too much time with the summit sign could get you lynched by these anxious visitors. Meanwhile, the wind blows fiercely and people are stumbling on the tricky rock surface, trying desperately to remain upright. Toppling over could lead to nasty cuts and contusions. Worse, it would be embarrassing, falling off the top of the state, as you would no doubt be in someone’s way.