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Sunrise illuminating the summit glacier on Mount Kilimanjaro, with ice formations in the foreground and a sea of clouds in the background.

Category: blog | adventure | travel | high pointing Page 1 of 4

I am on a quest to visit and summit the highest point in each state. Follow my travels as I crisscross the United States in my quest to become a highpointer!

Wide landscape view of Black Mesa in Oklahoma, showing dry grassland in the foreground and a long, flat-topped mesa covered in scattered green shrubs under a clear blue sky.

Black Mesa | Oklahoma (#37)

Black Mesa: Only 300 Feet Short of Katahdin… and About 300% Easier

At 4,973 feet, Black Mesa is the highest point in Oklahoma, ranked #23 among all U.S. state high points and my own #37. Tucked into the far western tip of the Oklahoma panhandle, it sits closer to New Mexico and Colorado than to most of its own state — the kind of place you don’t casually pass through unless you really meant to be there. Luckily, a cross-country drive from San Diego to Nashville created the perfect excuse to finally check it off.

Panoramic view from the summit of Wheeler Peak, showing rocky terrain in the foreground and endless ranges of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains under a clear blue sky.

Wheeler Peak | New Mexico (#36)

My Highest U.S. High Point: It Tested Me

At 13,161 feet, Wheeler Peak is the highest point in New Mexico, ranked #8 among all U.S. state high points and my own #36. I’ve climbed higher mountains before, Kilimanjaro twice and a few peaks in the Alps—but Wheeler is still my highest U.S. high point so far. Even with those bigger summits behind me, I felt this one. On paper, it’s an 8.7-mile round-trip with 2,972 feet of gain, but altitude has a way of making even simple numbers feel different. With an average of 683 feet gained per mile, Wheeler demands a slow, steady kind of grit.

What surprised me most wasn’t the altitude or the trail; it was how mentally challenging this climb became for me.

A group photo taken in front of a large stone fireplace at Adirondack Loj. From left to right: John, Yasamin, Vicki, Steve S, and Steve A, all dressed in rain gear after the Mt. Marcy hike.

Mt. Marcy | New York ( #35)

An Adirondack Adventure I’ll Never Forget

Mount Marcy, the highest point in New York at 5,344 feet (ranked 21st among U.S. state high points), became my 35th state high point — and one I’ll never forget.

Most of my summit stories begin with sweeping views and triumphant moments. This one began with rain sweeping sideways, fog swallowing the treetops, slick boulders running with water, and wind strong enough to push you off balance. And yet, in its own rugged way, it became one of the most meaningful Adirondack climbs I’ve done on this journey.

Marcy gave us no views.
But it gave us a story that will stay with me forever.
And a group of friends who found their way through all of it together.

In terms of sheer intensity, this climb rivaled — and in some ways exceeded — my experience on Mount Katahdin.

Different mountains, different terrain, but the same reminder: when conditions turn, the margin for error disappears fast.

Frost-covered summit marker, bench, and register desk at Panorama Point, Nebraska’s highest natural point, surrounded by icy grass and dense fog.

Panorama Point | Nebraska (#34)

At 5,429 feet above sea level, Panorama Point is Nebraska’s highest natural point, tucked into the far southwestern corner of the state where Nebraska, Wyoming, and Colorado quietly meet. Ranked #20 among U.S. state high points, this marked summit #34 in my ongoing high-pointing journey. And despite the name, Panorama Point isn’t about sweeping views—it’s about subtlety, solitude, and the story of getting there.

Mount Sunflower summit area on the Kansas High Plains with directional signs, fence enclosure, and wide open prairie under a blue sky.

Mount Sunflower | Kansas (#33)

A “Peak” Experience in Kansas

In far western Kansas, near the Colorado border, lies Mount Sunflower, a towering summit by Kansas standards at 4,039 feet above sea level. As the highest point in the Sunflower State, it ranks #28 among U.S. state high points by elevationand marks my 33rd summit on this ongoing high-pointing journey. While it may not boast rugged peaks or dramatic cliffs, Mount Sunflower is a subtle reminder that Kansas has more topography than it often gets credit for.

Instead of jagged ridgelines, this summit owes its height to the gradual rise of the High Plains as they slope toward the Rocky Mountains. It’s understated, yes—but that’s part of the charm.

Eagle Mountain summit plaque mounted on a rock outcrop, marking Minnesota’s highest natural point within the Boundary Waters forest.

Eagle Mountain | Minnesota (#32)

Minnesota’s Majestic Summit

Nestled in the northeastern corner of Minnesota, Eagle Mountain may not look as dramatic as some of the country’s towering giants. Still, it is absolutely Minnesota’s crown jewel. At 2,301 feet, Eagle Mountain ranks 37th among U.S. state high points, and this hike marked my 32nd state high point. While it doesn’t scream “epic” at first glance, it quietly calls to outdoor lovers, promising a day filled with solitude, scenery, and a little bit of adventure.

Blue “Mt. Arvon” summit sign marking Michigan’s highest point at 1,979 feet in a wooded Upper Peninsula forest.

Mount Arvon | Michigan (#31)

At 1,979 feet above sea levelMount Arvon is the highest point in the state of Michigan, ranking #38 among U.S. state high points. Tucked deep in the Upper Peninsula, this quiet summit sits miles from pavement and cell service. This marked my 31st state high point, and while it doesn’t offer sweeping alpine views, it delivers something better — solitude, dirt roads, and that unmistakable feeling of earning it.

Summit register mailbox at Timms Hill in Wisconsin covered in Highpointers stickers and welcome sign.

Timms Hill | Wisconsin (#30)

At 1,951 feet above sea levelTimms Hill is the highest natural point in the state of Wisconsin, ranking #39 among U.S. state high points. This marked summit #30 on my high-point journey. While it doesn’t compete with the dramatic peaks of the Rockies or Appalachians, it absolutely holds its own in charm and quiet beauty.

Named after Timothy Gahan, a logger who camped nearby in the late 1800s, Timms Hill wasn’t officially recognized as Wisconsin’s highest point until a resurvey in the 1960s. Before that, many believed Rib Mountain, just west of Wausau, held the title. History has a funny way of correcting itself.

Panoramic view of Hawkeye Point summit in Iowa featuring the high point mosaic, American flag, silo observation deck, benches, and surrounding cornfields under a blue sky.

Hawkeye Point | Iowa (#29)

At 1,670 feet above sea level, Hawkeye Point is the highest natural point in the state of Iowa. It ranks #42 among U.S. state high points, and it marked my 29th summit on this journey across America’s rooftops. While it’s not a lung-busting climb, it absolutely delivers in small-town charm and roadside character.

After wrapping up my adventure at Devil’s Lake State Park in Wisconsin, I set my sights west. Interstate 90 carried me through southern Minnesota with Above & Beyond’s Group Therapy playing in the background. The sky stretched wide. The road hummed. Road trip mode fully engaged.

Then, as I neared Blue Earth, Minnesota, I spotted a sign about a Green Giant.

Now, when it comes to roadside oddities, I’m all in.

Road trips are about the unexpected. So I keep the schedule loose. My motto? You never know if you’ll pass this way again — so why not seize the moment?

Welcome sign at Charles Mound, highest point in Illinois at 1,235 feet, with American flag and farmland views in the background.

Charles Mound | Illinois (#28)

1,235 feet above sea level, Charles Mound is the highest natural point in Illinois, ranking #45 among U.S. state high points. Tucked into the rolling farmland near Scales Mound, this quiet rise was my 28th state high point—and, thanks to a spontaneous decision, one that put me ahead of schedule.

With the long summer days and a shorter-than-expected stay at Backbone State Park, I realized I hadn’t booked a place to stay for the evening. So, instead of calling it a night, I pointed the car east and made a run for the Illinois high point, hoping to arrive before dark. Thankfully, I made it with daylight to spare.

And just like that… I was ahead of schedule.

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