.. In My Boots

Ever had the feeling of so much physical exhaustion, that you cannot even think of taking another step in a comprehensible direction? Ever felt as if the very things you love doing punish you for doing them over and over again? That feeling when wind literally howls through your ears and the climb ahead looks forbiddingly at you while the mountain tries to swat you off. Your body refuses to burn another calorie to help achieve what you set out to achieve. But when you are the sole reason behind finding yourself in this situation, there is really no one else to blame but yourself; and pretty much nothing else to do but live through the moment and feel every inch of your sparsely functioning body. That is when you mind takes over. Goads your body on, to find energy from its deepest reserves. To take that one more step every time you feel you cannot anymore. To keep pushing until you’ve achieved what you set out to achieve. Mind over matter.

I experienced that, and more than words can approximate - on the icy, rocky, snowy and precipitously steep slopes of Mt. Washington in the White Mountains National Forest, New Hampshire. The windiest place on face of our planet. No sweat. In all honesty, you have to be a little whacked out in the head to put yourself in this situation. But dear reader, you don’t have to. Read on to experience the journey to the summit... in my boots. 

Mt. Washington – also known as Agiochochook by some Native American tribes - apart from being the tallest peak in New England (6,288 ft) is also known for its treacherous slopes, avalanches and bone piercing windchill. The fastest wind recorded on the face of the planet clocked a whopping 231 mph/ 372 kph on April 12, 1934. Despite all these intimidating sounding facts and figures, it is still considered a mid-sized mountain owing to the ability to literally drive up to the top during summers and climbing it within a day during winters. It introduces curious climbers to the technicality of winter hiking, as well as presents some stiff challenges with a mixture of ice-boulder fields, technical three-point-of-contact ice climbs, and steep snow field ascents.

The Set Up

George Mallory (arguably the first mountaineer to climb Mt. Everest) once famously remarked how he decided to climb Mt. Everest ‘because it’s there’. 

... that Cyanide and Happiness comic strip pretty much sums up why we put ourselves through so much simply to stand atop a mountain (!). Ever since I found out about UCMC’s (University of Cincinnati Mountaineering Club) annual expedition to Mt. Washington in 2016, it has been a pipeline dream for me. Being my first foray into winter hiking, to say that I will cherish every moment of hurt on this ascent for the rest of my life; will be understating it. A trip like this has many moving parts and with the kind of life most of us lead, just making trips like these happen - take special efforts.

       This is a shout out to everyone embroiled in the clockwork-like process of working a full-time job and yet, can and do spare time to do things that make them who they are as a person.

       We all at some point have seen pictures of beautiful snowy mountains, frozen waterfalls and the downright spectacular views shot from mountaintops. It sends chills down the spine simply thinking about how cold it could be. Experiencing it in person is a whole different ballgame. You have to be prepared for the weather. Wearing the right layers of clothing, proper footwear, headgear and mountaineering equipment and more importantly the knowledge of its proper use is essential.
The book ‘Mountaineering- Freedom of the Hills’ is a veritable bible throughout the preparation process. It patiently lays out foolproof methods of preparing for extreme adventures in the mountains comprehensively. Let’s briefly run through the layering system and equipment required one by one.  

Clothing/ Layering :

1. Moisture wicking - Although the temperatures could get astoundingly low, the body still warms up and sweats when it works against gravity to climb steep slopes. If the sweat is allowed to escape the first layer of clothing you wear, it will freeze once outside and render the insulation layer useless. A moisture wicking layer of undershirt and pants/long-johns would be your first defense against that happening. Add a regular hiking t-shirt/ flannel over this. A pair of moisture wicking hand gloves and socks completes the first layer. 
2. Insulation – The main purpose of this layer is to create a thin air gap between your body and the outside atmosphere, to help maintain body temperature. A fleece jacket or down feather jacket works fine. If you expect freezing rain, pack an artificial down jacket (polyester etc.) since it doesn’t moisten too easily and dries out quickly as well. A pair of socks made of insulating material (e.g. merino wool) helps keep your toes from going numb. 
3. Windbreaker – Windproof hard-shell jacket and snow pants/ski pants.
4. Hand gloves/ mittens - A pair of mittens/ high insulation gloves worn over the pair of moisture wicking inner gloves. Be sure to try on both pairs of gloves beforehand to ensure a snug fit. It is essential to not lose too much dexterity of your fingers.  
5. Head gear - 
1. Face bluff/ balaclava - is your face's first line of defense against the rough windchill above the treeline. 
2. Ski goggles - help insulate your moist eyes and eyelashes, and the skin around it from the piercing windchill.

Climbing gear : 

1. Mountaineering boots - basically rugged boots with plastic outer-shell to protect from moisture 
2. Snow shoes - shoe extensions that mimic frog feet and distribute your weight evenly so that your feet don't sink into the snow. 
3. Crampons - a traction device to be attached to the bottom of the boots, helps in mobility over frozen surfaces.
4. Gaiters - a garment to be worn over the shoe and bottom half of the snow-pants. Keeps crampon teeth from hurting your own feet, and keeping the powdery snow out. 
5. Ice axe - a safety tool designed to be used as an anchor point while hauling yourself up, or to self arrest while glissading down the slopes.  
6. Hiking poles with snow buckets (tiny attachments on the end of the poles)
7. Climbing helmet - protects your head from flying debris/ blocks of ice etc. 

        Phew! Just making that list is a task. Imagine gathering these items, making sure you can use them properly, and then stuffing them into your backpack! Fun stuff. 

        

       All packed up and ready to go, I probably looked like a warrior heading out on a mission. 

      Most of the gear was readily available at the Mountaineering Club’s Gear Cave – one of the greatest perks of being a UCMC member in my opinion. At a meager fee (and academic association with the University) one can check out highly technical gear from the club’s ‘Cave’. Amazing trail buddies are thrown in for free. Speaking of trail buddies, the group of hikers that banded together for this particular trip was simply put – a bunch of absolute legends. It takes character to lead a group mostly full of greenhorns on a trip like this, and Joe did a great job. The boy scout in him made his presence felt on multiple occasions right since the beginning to the end. 

     Driving for almost a day to get to the trail-head is a fairly common occurrence with UCMC trips, and ours was no different. The 17 hour long drive from Cincinnati which got pretty interesting towards the end once we spotted the big snowy mountains, was also memorable due in part to the snow storm we got hit by somewhere in Pennsylvania; and the spooky podcasts that substituted for eerie silence in the middle of the night.

     We rolled into the mountain town of North Conway, NH around lunchtime on Friday the 17th and immediately saw the town teeming with hikers that had plans similar to ours. New Hampshire is home to the White Mountains National Forest and a hotspot for hikers in and around the North East. It’s 48 4,000 footers attract mountaineers of all levels of expertise. The crowning glory to which is of course- Mt. Washington – a part of the Presidential Range.

     A visit to the 'International Mountain Equipment' shop (a thrift shop for mountaineering gear) helped us top up the equipment we might need for the long day ahead. Personally, I’ll forever be thankful for the hand-warmer and foot-warmer gel packets we managed to score here, since they kept my fingers and toes from near frostbite the next day.

     An essential factor to consider while hiking in the winter is to keep an eye out for the weather, and time the ascent while the conditions are most favorable. Weather conditions in the mountains though, are highly changeable due to the accelerated water cycle at higher altitude. In our case, the plan was to get the first attempt at this summit in on Saturday, 18^th Jan. We had planned on giving it a second go the very next day, if in case we got socked in and couldn’t summit. However, a snowstorm was predicted late into Saturday and was supposed to continue well into the next day. Such storms tend to cover up the trails with powdery snow, and cause whiteouts which can disorient you and make the mountain even more dangerous an environment to be in. The good news though, was that since snowstorms are preceded by eerie yet calm spells of weather – Saturday, the 18^th looked like the perfect day to attempt this feat. Winds of 'only' 60-70 mph were predicted above the tree line, and that is a beautiful day on an alpine mountain. We would have to start early, bag the summit and get off trail before 5.00 PM in order to keep out of the storm. A small yet stable window of opportunity.    

     It is important to have fueled up your body (and backpack) with the right number of calories. The usual convention is to carry north of 2000 calories and at least a gallon (~4 liters) of water/ liquids. Now since the temperatures we expected were so low it was impossible to carry water without it freezing into a block of ice. But, being problem solvers that we are – we carried pre-made foam covers for our water bottles/ Nalgenes. And storing the water bottles upside down (so that the bottom portion freezes first) was an essential hack we followed! A pack of high calorie Trail Mix, Protein bars, couple of bottles of Gatorade and two liters of water took up most of the space in our packs. Crampons took up the remaining space, while ice axes and hiking poles got strapped on to the outside of our packs.

     Conversations on the dinner table remained centered around time limits for the following day – specifically the turn back time in order to get off trail safely before the storm began. Despite confidence and fitness levels being considerably high and the weather looked stable, we did not take the big snowy mountain for granted – a wise thing to do.           

     The Ascent, January 18th (-13⁰ F/-25⁰C, windchill at -30⁰ F/-34⁰C)

     After flitting in and out of deep yet tense sleep at the Golden Gables Inn, we were up before the sun was and drove to the AMC Pinkham Notch Visitor Center around 5.00 AM. Temperatures dropped well below freezing and the air was heavy with anticipation. After offloading our stuff from the back of the van, we made a dash for the first cover we could find – the Visitor Center’s hiker shelter. It took a few minutes for everyone to make their final preparations, lace up their boots and put on a smile. A brave smile. 

     It was just before 6.00 AM when we hit the Tuckerman Ravine trail and it didn’t take long to realize how incredibly cold it was. It is funny what cold weather can do to your body. We had to be careful not to sweat, all the layers of insulation keeps the body warm and it tends to sweat with all the effort. We were expressly told not to cry due to the enormity of the task since your tears might freeze and seal your eyelids. (!) Gradually some of us started peeling off layers of insulation, while others had their fingers and toes completely frozen - and go numb - despite the hand and toe warmers. Breath condensate freezing and impeding visibility through the ski goggles added another layer of difficulty for some. The sunrise couldn't come soon enough.

     We battled on gradually onward and upward in the darkness, shouting words of caution and encouragement at one another. This went on for about an hour on the approach to the Lion’s Head winter route that specifically avoids sections with a higher risk of avalanche. This reduction in risk comes at a price though. The trail got noticeably steeper pretty quickly and the breaks to catch our breath became more frequent. The beautiful sunrise in the background, and increase in visibility and warmth that followed – did much needed wonders to our confidence and we took on this phase of the climb with renewed vigor. 

     Steeper sections of the Lion's Head trail required us to strap on the crampons and use the ice axes to haul ourselves up inch by inch. Layers of solid ice clinging to rocks makes for utterly slippery climb; making proper technical use and trust in these tools essentially important. The key – while climbing vertical sections – is to maintain 3 points of contact.

     I vividly remember struggling to find purchase while trying to get past a gnarly vertical ice patch. I had the front teeth of my crampons dug gingerly into the surface, and the ice axe lodged a couple of feet above my head. While trying to grab a rock for my third point of contact, the crampons gave way and I was left hanging off the wall with just the ice axe dug firmly into the ice. My shivering hand lost grip over the axe and I was about to take a tumble onto a dozen hikers directly below me. And that is when the webbing attached to the top of the axe caught my forearm and I fell only a foot or so. That... was too close for comfort. I somehow regained my poise, trusted my crampons a little more this time and hauled myself over the top section of ice. It took a few minutes to recover from this. My exhaustion had led to loss in concentration and led my misplaced crampons to slip up. Lessons learnt.

     After this I was ready; for more of the same.

     The hike to get past the tree line took nearly two more hours and consisted mostly of steep climbs over a ridiculously narrow, snowy and steep trail. We had to take frequent breaks to scrape blocks of ice from the underside of our boots and ensure a predictable level of traction.   

     We made it past the tree line at around 10.00 AM and the next checkpoint – the Lion’s Head – was within sight. Lion’s Head is a popular checkpoint that marks the beginning of the final assault on this peak. The summer hiking trail approaches this point via the Tuckerman Ravine – which lay towards our left. And what a sight it was. Tuckerman Ravine as they say is the birthplace of skiing, and I believe the rumors. 

Tuckerman Ravine from Lion's Head

     Lion’s Head is the ideal spot to take a break, refuel, hydrate, and get excited for the rest of the climb. And get excited we did, as we could now see the top of the Mt. Washington observatory, which essentially is the summit.

     The next phase of the climb - before the massive snow patch that we could see in the distance – was what felt like a trap. A mixture of powdery snow, cracked ice, rocks and more rocks. The trail wasn’t well defined, and you could pretty much aim for the snowy slope ahead, walk in that general direction and choose your own adventure. Prime injury zone. I took several falls all throughout this section despite best efforts to avoid sketchy footsteps and using my hiking poles to good effect. Every time I fell flat on my face or violently lurched into a tiny crevasse - I reminded myself that nobody had forced me to do this and that I chose to do it myself and how much fun I was having doing it. My sure-footedness (not!) made me break into laughter so many times, but I wasn’t the only one. Everyone on the trail seemed to be having a great time. After this fun patch, we finally made it to the base of the steep snow patch which seemed like it was going to be fun (on the way back down!).

   

     This patch was full of post-holes, and unsurprisingly every step took massive effort. The wind had already picked up and it felt like every step took a whole minute. I couldn’t even listen to my own heavy breathing that was negated by the howling wind! This is where images of mountaineers slowly making their way up snowy patches flashed through my mind. I remembered thinking ‘why don’t these guys just sprint up the slopes and reach the summit quickly instead of taking almost a minute just to go a few yards!’. Mountains really have a way of dealing with your overconfidence. The slow and demanding nature of this climb really got to me – physically and mentally - and I needed a longer break than usual before we soldiered on for the summit push!

     On the top of this snowy patch was a large boulder that you could either skirt around or climb over to resume the trail. We chose this spot as a windbreak and I decided to put on my final layer on. Half a bottle of semi-frozen Gatorade, a protein bar and a few jellybeans later – I was ready to go.

     The trail past this point was gently sloped, yet a mixture of ice and boulders. The break had refreshed me, and it helped that we had the summit fairly within sight now. Halfway through the final section though, we could sense the weather worsening, wind getting stronger and dark clouds appearing ominously on the not-so-distant horizon. This became a race against time now, to get to the summit. Despite all that, I couldn’t help but take a minute to turn around and look back at the scenery, and let it take my breath away.  

     Words… fall utterly short to describe this beauty.. 

     After another arduous hour or so of trudging up the ridge, we finally made past the motor road that takes us to the summit. One final obstacle remained. Stairs! You must take a considerably long flight of stairs/ skirt around and climb some more sketchy rock patches to make to the summit. And that was the straw that nearly broke the camel’s back. My body refused to take another step. I was left towards the tail-end of our group... panting my heart out. Joe hung back with me, very graciously I must add. Shouting words of encouragement while I utterly struggled at a snail’s pace up the final few steps to the summit. ‘If you can’t walk, crawl – but keep moving towards your target’ – I told myself.

     With nearly nothing left in the tank, we made it to the summit of Mt. Washington - which also happens to be my 12th U.S State Highpoint - a few minutes past 1.00 PM. The air was jubilant, yet tense. We were to begin the return journey soon in order to reach base before the storm hit. But then, all this struggle and no summit picture?! That’s not how it works! 

The crew from L to R - Manoj, Matt, Joe, Henry, Maggie, Emily, Julia, Marc and Gaurish

     Fists were bumped, high fives were exchanged, smiles were smiled. Victorious smiles. The view from the top rendered everyone speechless. The view shortly became a little misty. Oh well, my eyes were sweating! We were told not to cry out of fear, but they didn’t tell us not to cry out of pride! And yet, cry out of pride – I did, just a little. Thank heavens for ski goggles.

     While loading up on the high calorie summit snack between bites of now frozen Gatorade - I picked up a conversation with a fellow hiker who said something to the tune of “I am so glad I did this, but it hurts so much – I am not going to do this again”. To which I replied, “Just wait until you get back to base, we are the kind of people who do it for the kick, no matter the hurt”. I am sure he smiled under his face mask. This conversation reminded me of an apt image I saw on the internet awhile back. 

     ‘Once you’ve been to the mountains for any length of time, you belong to them. There is no escape.’- so said author Ruskin Bond. Hence, turning back from the top of a mountain to go home has always felt strange to me. Partly because I consider every mountain top a tiny piece of home. That, and the fact that going downhill is incredibly taxing on your knees! Especially if you miss a step, and it is easy to miss a step in such conditions. 

     After clearing the gently sloped boulder field on the way down, we discovered the pleasures of glissading down the snow patch. Once you get the knack of self-arresting using the ice axe held across the front of your body, it easily becomes one of the fun-est things you can do on a mountain.

It is pretty quick too. The upper body though, has to put in a good amount of effort to self-arrest and steer your glissading descent.

     And that was when cramps started to hit. Getting back onto my feet after every patch of glissading became incredibly painful on my calves and thighs. Water, Gatorade, salty snacks at regular intervals and the fact that the tree line was pretty close now helped take my mind off the hurt and take in the views as much as I could. 

     Once below the tree line, we were sufficiently protected from the wrath of the impending storm. But with dark clouds gathering, light was failing and there was a beeline of hikers going downhill. Prime accident zone. Due to the ability to glissade quickly though, it didn’t take too long to reach the steep ice patch that I had an incident on the way up. The patch was just as sketchy going down and created a bottleneck with more than a dozen hikers gingerly hanging on to their ice axes. We figured there had to be a way to speed up the process. Marc and Joe decided to tie a rope off the tree that had fallen across the trail and improvise a quick rappelling technique to lower hikers about 10 ft or so, sans the need of a harness. The wait to get to rap off the rope wasn’t fun, especially since I happen to be a champion rappeler. (!) 

     Once we got down past that point, rest of the journey was but a walk through gently sloped, snow covered trail. It was time to break into songs and chatter about climbing Mt. Everest next (not). The final part of any hike always tends to feel unnecessarily long, especially if you need to switch on your headlamps again! We didn’t mind though. The sound of heavy crunching footsteps and the gentle breeze blended in well with the frequent sight of floating snowflakes bedazzled by the brilliant beams of a dozen headlamps.

     We got off the Tuckerman Ravine trail and made it back to the Pinkham Notch Visitor center a little after 6.00 PM; having spent spending a full 12 hours in probably the harshest conditions a lot of us had ever been in. ‘Where is my bed?!’ I asked.

     After multiple slices of indulgent pizzas, a warm shower and a beer (or two) we slept a well-earned sound sleep that night.  

     Ice Climbing at Cathedral Ledge

     A predictably late morning the next day left us to decide whether to drive straight back home, or to hit the Cathedral Ledge for ice climbing. The prospect of freezing ourselves numb once again sounded enticing to us, and we decided on going for it. The Cathedral Ledge lies at a solid 40 minute drive from North Conway and is a fairly beginner friendly ice climbing zone. It features a multi-pitch frozen waterfall that you can climbing using a top rope.

     The gear used is slightly different, the climbing axes are shorter, sharper and shaped with a more pronounced curve through the middle. This structure helps maintain a strong grip on the ice slab using a minimal effort. The ice climbing crampons have a visibly sturdier set of front teeth as compared to hiking crampons. The key again, is to have 3 points of contact at any given time. 

     During the climb, the first step is to lodge your ice axes at a striking distance above your head firmly into the ice. It may take a few strokes to get it attached as the top layer of ice tends to chip off. Next, lift a knee and dig the teeth of your crampons into the ice slightly higher to stand up and push your torso near the axes. Repeat for the other foot. The progress can be painstakingly slow in the beginning. The boots must be laced up tight to eliminate your heel lifting inside it which may cause unnecessary strain on your calves. Secondly, you must be able to trust the crampons biting into the ice in order to stand up on them and propel yourself upwards.

     In all honestly, the hardest part about this wasn’t even the climb itself. It was the wait for my turn! My limbs that went nearly numb from the wait, warmed up in a jiffy once I got on with the climb. The cramps came back and repeating every axe swing became more and more painful... in a fun way!

     All in all, a good weekend. One that made me realize my physically capabilities and how much stronger I need to be. All that needed to be done thereafter was to retrace our drive from Ohio.          

We get lost doing things we love doing. We find ourselves there, too...

#HappiestWhenInTheMountains