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March 10, 2005
The wind screamed and howled louder than I'd
experienced in any of my trips to the mountains. Gust after 40
MPH gust shook the walls, making it almost impossible to talk.
The wind drove the snow with such velocity that it even found its
way in through the tiniest sliver of a crack. Just poking my head
outside for a second, instantly crusted my face with rime and I
couldn't see anything but biting horizontally driving snow.
I tried to imagine sitting this one out in a tent on the summit
of Mt. Washington, but was extremely happy to be on the couch with
my kiddo in my own living room. In the 8 years I've lived in the
Valley, this was one of the most intense storms that I've seen.
My wife, Alyssa, was driving back that night from a trip to Canada
and wisely decided to hunker down at a motel in Littleton, rather
than brave the drive through the Notch at 6PM. Quite frankly I
was relieved that she was off the road and safe. As we talked on
the phone about her decision, I stood near the windows in my snug
little dining room and felt the drafts from each brutal gust. You
could see the sliding glass doors flex with the blows. I peered
out into the breezeway and could see snow drifted 4' up onto that
sliding glass door. In the back yard there were drifts against
one glass door that would keep it from opening out, snow was piling
up everywhere, but the driveway and my truck were totally scoured
clean! Thanks heaven for small favors.
The storm's intensity didn't slack until well after midnight and
fortunately we didn't loose power. When I woke up at 6 AM the winds
had eased considerably. I expected to see a ton of snow everywhere,
but the wind either scoured the surfaces or driven it into huge
drifts. My entrance was 4' deep in drifted snow and the only way
out was through the garage. I had expected to spend hours snowblowing,
but it only took about 30 minutes, mostly clearing the drifts around
the entrances and picking up the debris.
I could have been a whole lot worse, but wait... We have another
opportunity. There's another one scheduled for Saturday! Now what
was that about Spring in just a few more days?
If you've already contributed, please accept my fervent thanks
and pass this by. If not, please take a minute to read the following and make
a contribution of ANY amount to the fund. It is needed and WILL be appreciated.
In the January 20th report I mentioned that there had been a serious
accident at the Tablets area of Lake Willoughby. Because there
was no rescue cache available in the area, the victim was hand-carried
down the hill to a car and transported to the regional hospital
in St. Johnsbury. After some discussion with one of the participants
in the rescue, a thread started up on NEClimbs about the possibility
of purchasing one or more litters and placing them up on the hills
near the cliff.
Richard Doucette, of the Boston AMC Mountaineering Committee,
has taken the lead in this effort. In spite of the very real difficulties
and frustrations in working through the State bureaucracy, including
a local EMS group that feels threatened and didn't want it to happen,
Richard has managed to get approval for this from the area Rangers.
Everyone I have spoken to thinks that this is a good idea. Richard
has done the legwork, now comes the hard part folks.
IT'S TIME TO PUT OUR MONEY WHERE OUR MOUTHS ARE
We need to get enough money together to make this happen. While
the State of Vermont will allow it to take place, they are NOT
going to pay for it. If we want it to happen, we need to raise
money to pay for it ourselves. There was a lot of INLINE talk about
contributing, a limited number have actually done so. NEClimbs
has contributed $50 to the cause. I hope that you will do whatever
you can as well. This is a case of the climbing community helping
itself. Make your check out to Richard Doucette and send it to:
Willoughby Cache Fund
49 Crescent Ave.
Melrose MA 02176
I urge you to make this happen. Even if you don't visit the Lake,
or only go rarely, it is needed. Thank you for your support...
I was talking with my friend Mark Synnott the other day and of
course the topic of Trollville came up. He mentioned that he had
been going over there a lot as it is very close to his house in
Jackson. Apparently he was over there the other day and watched
a local guide on Purple People Eater, one of the mixed routes.
This is a difficult line that follows a corner up and right, overhanging
all the way. They had climbed all the way to the top just above
the last pin, but had ended up lowering off from the pin. A short
time later Mark rapped from the top after setting up a rope and
noticed something a bit "funny" about the pin. He gave
it a whack and it came right out! Needless to say, this was not
a good thing. If you fell above the crux and the pin pulled you
would most likely crater... Just something to think about when
you trust your butt to a piece of fixed protection!
Up on one of the Mount Washington Valley's finest crags and want to know what that climb you're looking at is? Or maybe you're on your way up from Boston and want to check out the Ice Report for your upcoming weekend plans. Or more likely, you're at work just want to daydream about your next adventure. Well if you have a smart phone handy, you can get to NEClimbs from anywhere you have cell service. While it doesn't offer every single feature of the site and it's not an "app", in mobile form, it does do a whole lot and is very useful. Here is the live link to the mobile version of NEClimbs:
Check it out and if you have issues on your specific phone, please feel free to let me know.
Join us and LIKE us on Facebook. I'll try and post some interesting pix every Thursday and the latest Ice Report in the season, tho certainly not the whole Report. Here's where you can check it out:
Have fun and climb safe,
The White Mountain Report
North Conway, New Hampshire
|Here I was working away and always this mumbling and bitching from below, and finally the shocking ejaculation "This is a lot of shit." From then on I felt I was battling two opponents, the wall and Peterson.|
|Royal Robbins, Tis-sa-ack|