Recently I completed an unimaginable weekend hiking in New Hampshire's White Mountains. What started out as a two night weekend trek north, with the hope to have just one day of safe Mt Washington summit, turned into an breathtaking weekend of three successful summits under near perfect conditions. I have become the envy of many outdoorsman. I have also been warned, the weekend conditions are such a rarity, I may never be blessed to experience such an awe inspiring weekend every again.
For the week leading up, my hiking partner,ultra runner, and adventurous friend (Sean) had warned me we may not have an opportunity to see the summit of Mt Washington. My fear showed, as I would counter that I'll be the first to turn my back if I felt my safety was in question. Mt Washington wasn't completely foreign to me as I had made two previous summit ascents as an early teen with my father. Memories are still deeply engrained of the hurricane like winds at the summit. In 1996 I completed a 15 week analysis of the summit weather conditions on the observatory structure as part of my college graduation requirements at WPI (that was the last time I ever used my Civil Engineering education). I was well aware of the record winds (fastest recorded winds of 231mph), and its proximity to three weather fronts. I have professed to those completely unfamiliar with mountain, its lore as the worst weather on earth.
It appeared our best conditions were going to be Saturday morning, as a snowstorm was projected to come in starting that afternoon and possibly go until Sunday. We got a jump on it, as we were at the Tuckerman's Ravine trailhead by 6:30AM with a plan to turn onto Lion's Head and reach the summit in 4 hours (4.2 mile trail). The predawn light was enough to forego our headlamps. We started the hike with extra clothes on, anticipating the exertion of the ascent would warm us up quickly. It was 0 degrees at the start. Within an hour layers were coming off, and we had an opportunity to feel the warmth of a new sunrise on over our backs and we had several clear glimpses of the summit with a blue sky as its backdrop. It was turning into a picturesque day.
We eventually turned onto the winter only Lion's Head trail, where we exchanged our trekking poles for a mountaineering ax and put on the crampons. Sean provided me with quick instructions on how to properly ascend a steep incline with crampons and ax. Picture yourself walking up a steep uphill, but with your body turned to one side, and walking uphill sideways. It was amazingly more efficient, but only after I got the hang of it. I had several minutes of small ascents to master it, before I had to apply the knowledge in order to keep my feet under me and progress gaining in the forward direction. I discovered that a full forward frontal assault didn't provide as good traction as the side approach. Often the crampons wouldn't grip with this frontal approach, and it took only a few slips to really get the blood pumping to support the added work. We worked our way to the tunnel. A 20 - 30 foot, roughly 75 degree pitched vertical wall. Sean, and another friend (Hector), had talked about this section before. The question was how much of it would be pure ice. Fortunately for me, it was mostly snow, which allowed me to create steps in the snow by repeatedly stomping my boot in the snow. Similar to rock climbing, anticipating your next hand & foot placement was key to being efficient. There were many thin tree branches, which in combination with the ax, provided just enough touch points for my hands. I never felt nervous on this brief vertical, as I was already thinking ahead, on the 'How the hell will I climb down this later?'.
We eventually made our way past the treeline, the meandering line around the mountains, providing the demarcation point where even short bushes no longer grow. We were fully exposed to the elements, but also had unobstructed views all around. The ground cover was laden with small boulders, mostly less than 2 foot in diameter. We approached a large rock formation, maybe 6 foot high by 8 foot across. Enough shelter from the increasing wind assault. We could still openly talk to each other through this section, but with a bit more yelling to compensate for a seemingly heavy 15-20mph wind. At this rock formation were two men, gearing up for the next section up to Lion's head (a larger rock formation, approximately 3x the size of where were now). They were quite concerned about exposed skin. Balaklava, Neoprene mask, goggles, thick hooded jacket....and so on. Before they ventured off, they did a full check - "do I have any skin showing?". I turned Sean, who was taking great delight in my wife's brownies, " Neoprene's and goggles?", I asked.
"Nope. Just Balaklava. It isn't cold enough yet."
Breathing with a Balaklava sucks. It was almost stress than necessary. I wasn't breathing hard during that next ascent, but sucking air through a cloth suddenly makes this seem less effortless. This next section was a bit more of the same, but a bit more wind. However, I don't want to downplay the first views of Tuckerman's Ravine to our left, and clear views of Mt Washington summit to our front. There were several gasps at the sheer beauty of it all. We passed several small groups making there ascent, as the climb started to take there toll on them. I was so grateful for all my ultra marathon endurance training from this past year and a half. It made a world of difference in allowing us to push without much effort. Upon arriving at Lion's head, we stopped for pictures, videos, food, & goggles. Still not time for our neoprene mask. While it was quite cold out, I still felt very comfortable with the layers I had on. I still had options in my pack if more was needed. Fortunately, it was never needed.
The next section, the alpine garden was the second to last section, and proved to be the biggest challenge. Winds were sustained at 30 mph, and for the first time, walking was a chore. The wind, blowing from left to right, now had to be factored into the equation of each step. Solid footing was a must, anything less and I risked being blown off balance and onto the rocky ground. The mountain ax was more like a brace as opposed to a snow pick. After a 1/4 to 1/2 mile of this, we left this flat and rocky terrain for deep snow and more vertical gain. As if the hip deep snow and 30 degree pitch weren't enough. We now had my first near white out conditions as a result of the high winds and increased snow. Sean was 20 feet ahead of me, and he was following three more hikers within 50 yards of him. For perspective, much of this ascent I could not see the group in front of Sean, Sean was just a blur, and foot steps in the snow (remember hip deep) was almost completely erased by the cross wind. I was never worried, just frustrated every time a step broke through the top. It was considerable work progressing upwards at this point, so I was quite please to reach our last rest point at another rock outcropping. At this point Sean suggested we put on the Neoprene mask under the Balaklava. The wind was finding its way around these rocks. While it provided some protection from the elements, it wasn't enough. The bio break here proved quite laughable!
The rest of the ascent was wind, rocks, compact snow, and ice. Visibility had greatly improved, as we weren't dealing with white out conditions. The sky was mostly clear for this last mile assault. We had several glimpses of the observatory, but it only seemed to make the summit march seem longer than what it should have been. The addition of the Neoprene mask made breathing a near miserable choir. Several times I found myself breathing hard, not because of effort, but purely due to my I ability to get oxygen in & carbon dioxide out. My ability to control my breathing became more of the focus as we closed in n the objective, as condensation was building inside the goggles. I made one feebler attempt to wipe it, which only resulted in a quick freeze. Half the goggles were blurred within the final 1/4 mile. A tolerable annoyance. Occasionally I would pull the Balaklava and neoprene away from my mouth to allow free airflow. Sean and I have since talked about solutions for this, to include cutting a quarter size hole in the neoprene.
Once at the summit, I removed the goggles and buried them under my clothes near my body. While doing so, I realized, the Balaklava had frozen solid. I was quite thankful to have Sean as my guide, as he warned me to not rely solely on my Balaklava, as it would freeze. The $14 neoprene purchase was well worth it, despite the breathing challenges. Without Sean's advise, i surely would have balked at what appeared to be an unnecessary redundant layer. We walked around, took pictures, ate, and generally admiring our surroundings. Sean informed me that most of his winter ascents consisted of reaching the summit under horrible conditions, taking a quick photo, and then hightailing it off the mountain top. Today we were blessed.
View from the observatory
During our descent, the conditions started to take a turn for the worse, which we had anticipated. Going through the rocky, flat alpine garden this time proved to be more challenging. Sustained winds increased to 40-50mph, and were more volatile. Gusts of 70mph were frequent. We were both blown off trail on several occasions on this flat section. At one point, a gust spun me around and sat me down on the nearest boulder. Sean was 30 yards ahead, looming back at me. He was standing, bent over onto his ax for support. We both had masks and goggles on, but I swear we both laughed at the same time.
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