Some mountains just throw everything at everyone and Mt Washington is one such mountain. Known for its insane weather, and so much more. It’s this weather, however, that draws so many people to its alpine areas. But they don’t always make it to the summit. A couple days ago the team turned around not doing all they set out to do (same range, different mountain). The reason was the “spicy cold.” On this trip, led by Redline Guide Debra McCown, they also turned around, but this time it was the spicy wind that deterred them. What follows are some photos of day along with a short summary.
The mountain said no: It was his first winter-conditions hike and his first time wearing snowshoes. He wanted to hike to the summit of Mt Washington. And for the young man from Boston, the effort was within his capabilities, even though we were wading deep drifts through a whiteout and fighting strong winds. Just married a few days ago, he had his wife’s blessing to check off a childhood bucket-list item while she got some much-needed rest. His assessment later: ‘Mt. Washington is harder than getting married.’ Because he had accomplished one — but not yet the other.
The day started nice enough at the Ammonoosuc Ravine trailhead, with light snow and temperatures right around freezing. We covered the slushy, slippery ground from the trailhead to Gem Pool in about an hour and 40 minutes — on track for his timeline to return in time for a dinner date with his wife. We put on our snowshoes and remained on track as we continued up the big hill toward the closed Lakes of the Clouds hut. Once we broke out of the trees, the wind picked up with whipping snow, and navigation became a challenge. We detoured left to avoid some big snowdrifts. It was a bit of a whiteout; even when we reached the structures below the hut, the hut itself was not visible.
As many do, we got out of the weather for a few minutes in the “dungeon,” the smelly basement corner of the hut which remains open for emergencies. As we added goggles and layers and stuffed our pockets with snacks for the ascent, we had a frank discussion: The weather was marginal at best, and worsening. We would go for the summit, take a quick photo at the top, then dash down the path along the Cog. We talked about what could potentially turn us around. He was concerned about his goggles fogging. I said if the wind was strong enough to blow us off our feet repeatedly, we probably wouldn’t be able to make progress fast enough to meet his timeline. We could hear the wind continuing to pick up to a roar from inside the basement room. The heavy metal door rattled.
We went out into the storm, around the hut, to the sign indicating Crawford Path. As I began to pick out our path through the wind and whiteout — carefully to ensure that we hit the solid trail around the edge and not the unfrozen water of a snow-covered alpine lake — the wind blew us around. Reaching for a hand up after being knocked down by the wind yet again, the guest said something unintelligible. He was ready to call it. We agreed that with hurricane-force winds and whiteout conditons — and gusts strong enough to repeatedly blow a grown man off his feet — it wasn’t really a good summit day. Also, he had that dinner date with his wife. We retreated.
Even navigating down from the hut took time. We had to go from a different angle due to the wind, which meant breaking trail through mild snowdrifts for a bit. Once our snowy path through the krummholz connected with our earlier tracks — below the worst of the wind — we headed back down the way we’d come. He said he hadn’t understood before — when I’d sent him the forecast and noted the need for an early start — why wind speed mattered. Now, having experienced it, he knew.
For me it’s a point of pride that, when folks are prepared for their goal, we generally get to the summit — even in tough conditions. But sometimes, the weather just doesn’t cooperate. Sometimes, the mountain just says no. Fortunately, this mountain isn’t going anywhere. He said next time he might try it on a summer day. —Debra
