Mt Washington (4/8/23)

I think I've now caught up my back blog entries for 2024, or at least most of them, so now I am going to go back and catch up 2023. This first one wasn't supposed to be a thrilling hike, but it turned into one of the more exciting hikes that I have ever had. Of course, when you're in the backcountry, the word exciting has very much a positive and a negative meaning, and this hike definitely encapsulated both.

You may recall that in December I attempted to hike Mt. Washington just before Christmas, but was driven back by bad conditions and only managed to hike Mt. Monroe, and even that was dicey. Thus, I wanted another shot at Washington. I decided to take my favorite route up the mountain, ascending the Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail, popularly known as the Ammo.

I parked at the trailhead, which is not too far from the base station for the Cog Railway. There were a decent number of cars in the lot, as it looked to be a really pretty hiking day. The hike starts off with a gradual ascent for the first 2.2 miles before you get to a small waterfall. It makes a great place to stop, because after that the trail becomes very, very steep.

I did stop for a break. I had a snack, grabbed some water, and girded myself for what lay ahead. I've lost track of how many times I have done the Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail at this point, but it's a lot, so I knew exactly what was coming.

As I climbed, I could see Mt. Washington silhouetted against beautiful blue skies in the background on my left. It looked so close, but I knew how deceptive that view is. In the White Mountains, just like in car mirrors, things are always farther away than they appear. Or maybe the mirrors say the opposite of that. I always get it confused with the Meat Loaf song.

Anyway, before too long I made it up to the Lakes of the Clouds Hut, which was closed for the winter. I sat on the steps with some fellow hikers and chatted. There were three of us there. One lady had planned to summit Monroe, but had no interest in Washington. Another guy was brand new to White Mountain winter hiking, and didn't think he should immediately challenge Washington. I agreed with him.

As we were sitting there, another guy came by and told us that the wind chill on the summit of Mt. Washington was -30 degrees Fahrenheit, but he was going for it. I saw that there were a few other people going for it as well. I decided to go for it as well.

I know that seems like a foolish decision, but I had three arguments that drove me in that direction. First, if I waited for the perfect day to summit Washington, it was never going to come, because Washington doesn't have perfect days except maybe once a year. Thus, I was always going to have to accept some degree of risk to summit Washington, and the key was minimizing that risk. Second, it was best to go when other people were going as well, so I wouldn't be alone. I could ingratiate myself into a group and have safety in numbers. Third, I had all the right equipment with me, and I knew that.

With my decision made, I strapped on all of my equipment. I put on my balaclava and face mask, put my goggles over my eyes, put an extra layer underneath my hard shell jacket, and stuck my Outdoor Research Meteor mittens over my hiking gloves. I was really warm, which was going to be important.

As I got going, I followed a hiker that I would guess was fifteen years or more older than me. However, despite being older than me, he was in way better shape than me, and I struggled a bit to keep up with him. Thankfully, even when I started to drop back from him, I was still feeling good, and I wasn't getting cold at all despite the intense wind chill. My equipment was doing what it was supposed to be doing.

I made it up to the summit. This was my fourth summit of Mt. Washington, and my fifth summit would come a few months later. I took my usual selfie picture with the sign, which was a challenge with all the equipment I was wearing. In the picture below, if you look carefully, you can actually see the reflection of the Mt. Washington buildings on my goggles lens.

You'll just have to believe me that it's me under there.

With the selfie taken, I wasted no time in hurrying down. Rather than hike back down Ammonoosuc, I headed towards the Cog Railway tracks. My plan was to cross them and to descend via the Jewell Trail. I looked both ways when crossing the tracks even though I was confident that there wouldn't be any trains coming at that time of year.

As I was crossing the Cog tracks, suddenly my Garmin Inreach started blaring at me. I checked it, and it had a message that the temperatures were too cold, and it wasn't designed to operate in those temperatures. I checked my phone, and it had the same issue. Thus, my entire electronic security blanket disappeared in an instant. It's funny how I was fine, but my electronics were not. Now deprived of my ability to signal for help if I got into trouble, I moved a little more carefully towards the Jewell Trail.

As I look back now, I see that my phone was still recording my track despite its lack of battery. The trail from the summit of Washington to the beginning of Jewell Trail is only 1.3 miles, though in those conditions it was a little more difficult. Also, the top of Jewell Trail is always a challenge, as the trail is hard to find up there. This was made more difficult by not being able to use my phone for navigation. Thus, I had to do better trail-finding than I normally do.

Believe me when I say that I was thrilled to get back below tree line. Once I did, I stopped and changed out my layers to thin out what I was wearing, as I was already overheating. I ran into some people there, and they were the first people that I had seen since the Washington summit. I don't know if they were planning to go up Washington, but if they were, they were a little late in the day for it.

The trip down Jewell would have been easier with music, but with my phone almost dead, I couldn't afford that luxury. In the end, I made it back to the parking lot no worse for the wear, and I was able to charge my phone in my car. Those summit conditions on Washington were probably the coldest conditions that I have ever hiked in, and I am glad that I rose to meet the challenge. As I always say, you can't take flight until you spread your wings.