We set out for Mt. Washington last night, which, like it's namesake, was wearing a white powdered wig. But this was the point of going early in the trip since we always take Washington as a bushwhack; fewer bushes to whack when they're under the snow, and fewer mosquitos as well (although Damon swears he saw one). We went prepared for snow, which was good, because the snow level (and we're talking new snow here, not base) starts below 3000 ft these days. We were on pretty much solid-snow by the time we left the real trail. The weather which had been in and out, was moving more towards in, but progress had been swift so we pressed on. Ordinarily we continue up the valley a bit further to a little pond and then start the bushwhack, but today, with the help of the snow we went straight on up to those nifty little rock spires on the far north crest of the ridge. They're an easy scramble, and after a couple glamour shots we finished thrashing through the denser vegetation and found clear walking up the main ridge. It was starting to snow in earnest at this point, and already getting a bit late, but I had a burning case of summit fever and couldn't resist the siren call of such an easy walk up the ridge. There was maybe 8 in of fresh snow over a hard base, so walking was pretty easy, with decent traction and not too much breaking. The clouds closed in around me, the wind picked up, the snow swirled, the only sounds the the sweep of blustery wind and icy-flakes (well, that, the I-90 river in the background and my lungs on fire, but those aren't so poetic now are they?). I was slipping into a slightly trance like state when suddenly my arms were sticking straight out, the snow was at eyeball level, and my legs were swinging gently, and freely beneath me. Suddenly wide awake, I popped right back out of the hefalump trap, a nice air pocket perhaps 8ft deep, into which I had fallen. I was wishing for an ice ax as I hit the summit cone, where the slope is a good 45-50 degrees easy but I made do just shoving arms into the snow and kicking hard. In the fading light, blowing snow, and with fogging glasses there was little to indicate my arrival at the summit except for the bit about the ground no longer going up. A short walk on ridge brought me to the little weather station tower confirming this was the top, and then it was time to slide down.
I'm not sure what possessed me, but I decided it would be better to go out to the valley and our usual summer route instead of following our tacks all the way back. So out to the valley we went, but find the road we were looking for we didn't. The light was very quickly fading by this point and the woods dark and deep but not so lovely looking. We kept to the right for a long time and then decided to head back for the stream, suddenly popping down onto another abandoned road. Assuming this was the (upper) road I was looking for, I turned left. And then noticed tracks. Cool, someone else had been here. But the angle wasn't right, too much up to be going down the upper road. And what were the chances that anyone else had taken the bushwhack route up Washington in the last 24 hours? really darn small. We were about to head up to do the whole loop over again!! It was a nice loop, but not *that* nice, so about-face and down we go, soaked, tired, and chilled. Another great Thursday night!!!
-M<