The first time I climbed Mt Washington, I was about 13 and I climbed it with my Dad. It was a lovely summer day, but it was quite hot. Nevertheless, we carried what we thought was plenty of water and set off good and early. The first couple of miles of the trail is along an unimproved road. It is certainly up hill, but gentle enough to warm you up for the real climbing. A number of trails to the summit branch off of this road, but if you follow the road to its end, you reach a lean-to. On this day, we didn't reach the lean to because we branched off earlier to climb the Huntington Ravine trail. This trail appealed to me because the guide book listed it as one of the more challenging trails involving some scrambling and sort of a mix between hiking and rock climbing, but no special gear was required. The real risk was that if rain rolled in, you could be in a bit of a tight space, but fortunately there was no threat of rain.
Although the beginning of the hike is through a forest, the last thousand vertical feet or so, is above the tree line. There is nothing but rocks and moss. I remember my Dad remarking that it reminded him of hiking in England because even though the peaks are even smaller, tree line is lower so you frequently hike above tree line. Once we emerged from the ravine, there was still considerable hiking left. When you are not above the tree line, your view is generally limited by the trees. Above the tree line, you can see for miles. While the view below was spectacular, the view of what remained to be climbed was a bit demoralizing. We were also running low on water. Because there were no trees, there was no protection from the sun. We persevered though and pushed on to the top.
Since Mt. Washington is the highest peak in the Northeast, it is quite popular. You encounter a number of hikers on the trails, but it certainly would not be described as crowded. The summit is a different story all together. Unlike most mountains, in the summer, you could reach the summit either by hiking, driving up the auto road or taking a cog railway to the top. Consequently, the summit was quite packed. You also see people you wouldn't generally see at the top of a mountain. In addition to the observatory there is a concessions area. Best of all, for us, there was a spigot. My Dad had realized far earlier than me that we were going through our water supply too fast. He had not said anything to me though, but looking back it was clear that when we took water breaks he would take sips to my gulps. Had the spigot not been there, we likely would have been OK, just very thirsty. We did have some water left at the summit and the hardest part was behind us. However, with the spigot and its limitless supply of clean water, we could drink like Kings! That spigot alone made up for the crowds of people that had not climbed the mountain on their own. The descent was far easier, as you would expect. As we approached the bottom, we passed a group going up. It was unusual for a few reasons. First, it was pretty late in the afternoon at this point. They certainly were not equipped to spend the night. Second, they were hiking in jeans and t-shirts and carried no other gear. Finally, it appeared that the only thing they had to drink was beer. A couple cans each. My guess is they turned around shortly after we passed them.
Over the years, I would return to Mt. Washington. Unfortunately, never with my Dad again.
It became a bit of a tradition of a group of us from camp to get together over the winters and do a number of hikes. I believe the inaugural trip involved me and the load and my St Bernard hiking a portion of the Long Trail in VT. It was not a huge success. First, we were not climbing a mountain, we were simply walking through the woods in the winter. There was quite a bit of snow and we did not have snowshoes. We spent one night camping and turned around the next day. The highlight of that trip was that Load and I tried snowmobiling for the first time. At first it looked like it wouldn't be that much fun. Our guide, who was all of 13, told us that under no conditions could we pass him. So we meandered along trails at 5-10 mph. Then we reached a frozen lake that was at least a mile long. Our guide nailed the throttle. I then realized that there was no way in hell I was going to pass this kid, I couldn't even come close to keeping up. My guess is that Load and I were doing 50 mph or so, this kid must have been doing 70+! We spent the rest of the time just racing back and forth over this Lake and having a blast.
The next winter, we added K.W. to the mix. This was advantageous for a couple reasons. First, K.W. lived a bit further North than the rest of us. We almost always spent the night at his place and then left early in the morning for these trips. Second, K.W. was a beast of a hiker. Finally, and most importantly, as mentioned earlier, he had a knack for making sure we did not leave something crucial behind. On this trip, we planned to climb Mt. Marcy. Mt. Marcy is the tallest peak in the Adirondacks, and is quite popular in the summer. It is not nearly as popular in the winter. This time we had snowshoes. We needed them, the snow was more than 2 feet deep. Even with the snowshoes, you sunk several inches. The person in the lead had the toughest job because they had to break trail. Initially, we planned to alternate who would go in the lead with K.W. taking the first shift. He set a good pace. Then it was my turn. Holy shit, K.W. had made it look much easier than it actually was. Our pace slowed down dramatically. K.W. was not having any of this, so he took over the lead and never relinquished it.
We spent one night camping out on that trip. The load had this great all weather tent. It was listed as a two man tent, but we all piled into it. It was a tight squeeze, but not unbearable. Because it was quite cold, we sealed up all the doors and were quite comfortable. Sometime during the night, I awoke to a strange sensation. Everyone was breathing incredibly hard. It was not the typical breathing that you associate with sleep. This was labored breathing like we were climbing again. I certainly could not seem to catch my breath. I don't know why I didn't say anything immediately. No-one did. I think part of it is that during that interval, no-one knew that everybody else was awake and generally feeling the same thing. Finally, I asked if anyone else was having trouble breathing. Both the Load and K.W. responded "yes." We realized that the tent may have been too well sealed. Particularly with three of us, rather than the recommended two. We were breathing in air faster than it could enter. Someone unzipped one of the screens on the door, and it was instant relief. We hadn't realized how difficult it had become to breathe until we were able to breathe normally again. We were lucky that the discomfort was enough to wake us up.
The next winter, we set our sights on Mt. Washington. We expanded the group to include 2 additional members, M.L. and C.C. both were a couple years younger than me, but strong hikers. We knew that we needed specialized gear for this trip, namely crampons, an ice axe and special boots. This gear is expensive, but fortunately there is a shop in town that rents it. We spent most of the day getting outfitted and then planned to hike to the lean to halfway up the mountain. One delay led to another and as a result we started out quite late. Most of the hike was done in the dark and it was very cold. When we reached the lean to, we saw that someone had set up a tent in there. There is a rule against this, but it is not like you can call the cops or anything. We made room for ourselves. Setting up a tent in a lean to was a major breach of trail etiquette, so we all decided we too would abandon etiquette and were not exactly quiet as we got ready to be down. In fact, we were way too loud, telling jokes that seemed hilarious to us but were anything but hilarious to anyone else. One of these jokes revolved around K.W.'s sleeping arrangement. Most of us had thick winter sleeping bags that we had rented. K.W. was using a bag rated for fall weather. But, he also brought a blanket that he wrapped himself in. We all found this hilarious and ribbed him mercilessly. The next morning, the tent group had left by the time we got up. Although it was winter and cold, the weather the next day was spectacular. Good visibility, lots of sun. So we suited up and headed for the summit. The climb up was tough, but no tougher than expected. With the crampons and the ice axe we were able to keep a good grip. Most of the trail had little snow, it was a sheet of ice. So it was actually rather pleasant hiking with the right gear. M.L., K.W. and I were all approaching the summit together, I think Load and C.C. were a bit further behind. K.W. is a very competitive person. We were probably 50 feet from the summit, and all of a sudden K.W. started running. In crampons, with an ice axe. It was important for him to be first.
Then came the descent. One way to descend an open snowfield is to do something called a glissade. Only the load had heard about a Glissade, and began a lengthy discussion of how to do it correctly. The proper technique involves removing your crampons, sitting on your buttocks and using your ice axe to slow you down without ever getting too out of control. We did not follow the proper technique. About 10 seconds into the Load's instructions, K.W. took off. I decided that I of course had to catch him. We were both out of control very quickly. Even though we dug in our axes, we were not slowing down appreciably. Both K.W. and I ended up crashing into a pile of rocks. It hurt. To his credit, K.W. did win though. A lot of people had seen us do this. Because we didn't want to admit the obvious, we acted like everything was OK and we had planned this. In reality we were both having trouble walking. The rest of the descent sucked, but we made it.
We returned for several more winters. Unfortunately, we did not get as lucky with the weather and had to turn around on a number of occasions. Still, I think we summited at least one more time.
No comments:
Post a Comment