New Hampshire
Trip Report

Unique and magnificent are not words often given to mountains in the Eastern United States, however, Mt. Washington is not only the most unique and magnificent mountain in the Eastern U.S., but one of the most unique and magnificent in the entire country.  Mt. Washington is not a tree-covered peak, with a little bit above tree line, rather it is similar to an alpine peak you would find in Colorado.  When climbing, I felt like I was back on a 14er, except without the altitude screwing with my lungs. The hike itself is not too difficult, just steep.  The views are tremendous and the weather can be extreme no matter when you climb.  While you can drive to the top, or take the train, hikers will cherish the experience of climbing to the top.  Getting to Mt. Washington and the main Pinkham Notch trailhead, which offers a variety of routes to the summit, is really easy.  Just take route 16 in Eastern New Hampshire.

Sight from 2.4 miles into the trail

On May 30th, 2004, my friend Brian and I climbed Mt. Washington. We were planning on Tuckerman's Ravine, but when we got to the start of steep hike, (about 2.4 miles in the trail) it appeared closed. We went to the ranger station, and knocked on the desk. A dog barked, and a young man with a beard came out wearing overalls, to talk to us, while his girlfriend was still getting up. It was only 7am. He said the trail was closed due to a dangerous snow traverse, so I asked, "what would happen if we did try and climb?" He said. "oh, you'd die." Although he amplified that it was just really risky, and maybe he was embellishing, we took his advice, and headed back down the trail to climb from the Lions Head. The Lions Head trail, which is generally considered the short, easy trail, is not really class 1, but basically class 1 and class 2. In some cases, I chose to climb up the rock, instead of winding around the trail, which made my way class 2 for more of the trek. Mt. Washington's weather systems, in late May, give it the feel of a 14,000 foot peak, with a lot worse wind. The only difference is that you don't feel any altitude effects, and oxygen is still plentiful. We got up into apline country, and the wind was strong, about 40-50 mph. We hiked further, and noticed that clouds engulfed the summit. This did not prepare us for the experience we were about to face, something as dangerous as I have ever climbed. Visibility was poor, so we cut up the slope, towards a higher rock cairn. The weather got worse, the wind faster, the air colder. The permafrost on the rock vegetation was thicker and thicker, and the frost covered the rocks. Frost hit me in the face a couple times as I climbed higher, towards the summit, which I could not even see due to the wind clouds. Towards the summit (which I still did not know was less than 100 feet away) I was trying to manuver over the rocks, and I stood up, and a huge gust of wind knocked me down. I fell down on one rock, and then another, and then another, and landed flat on my back. It was like falling down a flight of stairs, except these were rocks, not wood, and there certainly was no carpeting, except for frost covered vegetation. I checked my legs, and I had hurt a muscle on my left leg, but basically I was okay. I got up, and pushed forward. I climbed the last rocks, and there was a flat surface. I looked up and saw what I thought was another 300 feet! Then I looked to the right and saw a truck. I flagged him, and asked where I was. He said that I was at the summit. The summit was just around the road and up a small hill. I waited for Brian to make it up the rocks. Five minutes later he came up and we got up to the summit. I still pulled my lower right calf on the way. A ranger asked us to go to the shelter, but instead I walked up the last 15 feet or so to the summit. There was no way I would be denied the summit after all that climbing. We came into the shelter and I found out that winds were 75 MPH and the wind chill was -4 degrees. A storm system had engulfed the mountain for the last 2 hours, getting worse and worse, and peaking by the time we had gotten up there. Several climbers followed, unwilling to be deterred from the summit, which, incidentally, is precisely the reason so many have died or been injured here. The weather does not get bad until the last 1/3 of a mile, and those that have come so far, say "it is just a little further" and that little further is what gets them.

Along the ridgeline

The clouds eventually subsided, giving clear views of the surrounding peaks. However, winds remained constant at 60 MPH, and it was still very cold, making photography difficult. Highpoint number 23 was complete, I headed down to open access day in Rhode Island, and made it 24. I got back to Arlington, Virginia at midnight, after getting dinner in my hometown of Greenwich Connecticut (which was on the way home). A long weekend, with too many tolls, but a lot accomplished.