The sign reads:
STOP
The area ahead has the worst weather in
America.
Many have died there from exposure, even in the summer.
Turn back now
if the weather is bad.
WHITE MOUNTAIN NATIONAL FOREST
photo credit: dave reckess
The peak in all its glory. (photo credit: no one i know)
Mount Washington Report (Oct. 1, 1999)
The ACOC sponsored an excellent trip to Mt. Washington last weekend. The five of us (Michael Niemack, Natalie Brumblay, Rob Winograd, Maxine Zlyberberg, and David Reckess) left Friday afternoon, and arrived at our campground near the base of the mountain after dark. We eventually got a small fire going despite the damp wood and proceeded to burn marshmallows and make smores. After a bit of poetry and talk we turned in early to get some rest before our big day. While we were brushing our teeth, the rain started. It pattered away on the top of the tent for hours, lulling me to sleep. Luckily it stopped by morning; so at 6 we began packing up the camp. The morning chill kept us bundled up until we hit the Ammonusac Ravine Trail a little after 8. The visibility was less than 50 feet for the beginning of the hike. But often we were close enough to the stream to see striking cascades and waterfalls. The trail got steeper and steeper until we thought it had to level out. Then we saw the ladder. It was only about 6 feet high, but we knew this was no typical trail. Often we were wandering back and forth across the river (now a stream) on steep rock slabs looking for the next trail marker. Then it began to level out. The last mile and a half were hiking across the rocky top of the mountain in 30-40 mph winds with rain, sleet, and/or hail pelting our backs. Needless to say, the lodge at the top was quite a relief. We ate a long drawn out lunch, admiring the pictures of "The worst weather in the world" and trying to dry ourselves in preparation for getting wet again. The Jewel Trail seemed like a better choice for hiking down, since it was less steep than the Ammonusac but brought us back to the same place (I liked the name a lot too). So we charged back down. Along the way we met one group who had turned back because of the weather. The whistling of the Cog Railroad sounded often through the mist (another way to get to the top of the mountain). About two miles before the end of the trail we dropped below the cloud level. The forests were already filling with fall color up there in the north; so we stopped and admired our first view of the day for quite a while. After ariving at the bottom, we booked it out of there and made it back to Valentine in just in time to catch the last round of dinnner. Thanks for a great trip everybody.-Michael Niemack