Mountaineering

Odell Gully in Huntington Ravine on Sunday, January 29th. Moderate avalanche danger, 65-85mph winds at the summit and blowing snow into the gullies...and really blowing across the Alpine Gardens.


Travis zips up after belaying me up the first pitch, the only real technical section. If there had been stops for belaying it would have been a whole lot colder.



Following the cairns across the Alpine Gardens

Looking down at a group below the Left Chute of Tuckerman Ravine.

Weissner's Dike

After months of driving by and staring up slack-jawed, trying to avoid the guard rails on 93, I finally made plans to head up Cannon Cliff. It is big, it is loose, it can be fun.

Saturday proved weather worthy of an all-day climb after several weekends of wash-outs.
Tony and I talked about Weissner's Buttress, a climb from the 1930s on the northern end of the cliff. It is not as popular as some of the other routes, but it is supposedly moderate and can be dry. Not today, it turns out.



So, we tracked around the buttress to try Weissner's Dike, starting with the diagonal cut across the lower section of the cliff. Sunny day, cool temperature, mostly dry rock.


It was nice moderate climbing. Just when I was wondering how far to go a nice double-bolt rappel station came into sight and I decided to set up shop. The climb was not as run-out as it looks here, the last couple of placements are hidden.




Tony led the second pitch, around a loose horn and up a gully of sorts through some shrubs. I took the lead for pitch three and had one of the more interesting leads in a while. The pitch tracked up some slabs with occasional protection over to a brushy corner. The preferred route might have crossed onto the better rock up a side wall from the brush. I stayed low and found myself among some soft granite that turned to sand when I pinched it. Easing my way down from the crumblies I head back to some scrub. That's when Tony yelled "10-feet of rope left." I could see a piece in 20 and there was nothing here to build an anchor with. I found a stance and plugged in a #3 cam as he moved up to a rap station that was just below our last anchor. That little bit gave me room to climb up onto better rock and build an anchor. Tony led off from there onto the beginning of the good climbing on pitches 4 and 5 (below).





Pitch 5 has an overhanging first move and is nicely vertical for the rest of the pitch, though it is still 5.6 At the top of the pitch, feet from the anchor, I grabbed a horn and pulled myself up. And then the horn, crack-less before, pulled off and disintegrated on the ledges below. My faith in the rock around us started to dwindle. Just above me the silicone-filled cracks that used to line the Old Man of the Mountain faced out into the void.



The last pitch climbs the chimney in what was the Old Man's left ear. The first move, over a tall slice of granite called the Archival Flake, or the Hump, is famous for its awkwardness. Tony led. Next time, I will. The last fifty feet climb an interesting, flaring chimney. Usable features switch from side to side, so there is a lot of looking for the next move, but it is always there. Sometimes it's just behind you.



Cars line the road to hike Mount Lafayette (as seen from the Old Man's comb-over braces.

Madison Gulf

The alpine gardens in bloom.

Ben's last hurrah as a Concord resident was a trip up the Madison Gulf trail. The higher summits forecast called for "continuous lightning" and we drove up anyway, passing through rain in Franconia Notch and into sunshine on the northern side. The trail eased into things, but picked up in the wilderness. The streams were not too high, but the rocks on all of them were slick and treacherous. Snow still remains just below the headwall, but the slabs and chimney are clean.


Mount Washington Auto Road.


Rain and dark clouds hastened our descent into the trees, but the lightning never materialized. Back in the trees the rain stopped, the mugginess returned and black flies came in force. We saw four other hikers the entire day.


Parapet Brook

Bonds

Bondcliff in the rain. May 15, 2011

The Bonds are some of the most remote peaks in NH. Most make a long day of it. We chose to backpack. Not sure we chose the right day, but so it goes.

Smooth going to Zealand Falls and the hut. Temps around 50 and no snow before the hut. But there is a stream crossing there. It's frozen in winter, negligible in summer, but roaring in spring. A herd path took us where it as only boot-soaking deep.


And then the snow began. Instant monorail. And it did not give up for the rest of the day. Microspikes work, but snowshoes work better. Just know that somewhere in the near future will be extended rocky sections where you have to take the snowshoes off for a 1/4 mile. We took turns slipping dramatically. Face plants, rolls into the trees. It could have been a slapstick routine.

After the Zealand summit the monorail disappeared and less compacted snow took over. Rain started once we hit the alpine zone of Guyot and was steady by the time we got to the lean-to.



Since there was still some light we decided to visit West Bond (and not feel the need to go there the next day). What some describe as a 20-minute walk in the summer took us 1:15 round trip. Made some pics of the limited view and went back to the shelter for some dry clothes and dinner.

Cathy and Alan joined us...at 12:20am.

It was cool but not cold in the shelter, but coffee was good in the morning. Kaitrin and I were packed and out for a noon-time start. Not an early start and some incredibly slow going to get to Mount Bond. 0.7 miles took an hour and then, on top we were met with driving fog. It came and went for the next 90 minutes or so as we crossed Bondcliff and marveled at it in the mist. So too the snow, ice and rocks. We probably kept microspikes on longer than needed, but those icy sections were reason enough.

Soon after Bondcliff summit we were back among the trees and could stop for a bite to eat and put on some layers. As the rain soaked through layers, wet or not, were helpful. Soon enough they were clinging and dripping inside my jacket and rain pants. Not long after this I noticed my raincoat zipper had broken, so I kept it half zipped--better than not at all.


We stopped every few minutes to re-adjust sagging pants and eat morsels of cliff bar and brownie. As the trail descended the wind turned down a notch and the rain was bearable. On the Wilderness trail we finally started making some good time, poling along across the old railroad ties. Nips of Johnny Walker work well at keeping the cold at bay too.

We made it to Lincoln Woods at 7:40 and changed into the only clothes still dry--buried deep inside the pack. We knew Cathy and Alan were getting a later start, but also knew they are faster hikers. I figured that they would catch us somewhere along the walk out. As we drank our second cups of tea they got in, just before 9:00.

Back in the Gulf

The Gulf of Slides on April 9th. Temperatures in the 50s with lots of snow and low avalanche danger. Great day.


Looking up Central Gully. Cars lined Rte. 16 with the Tuckerman Ravine-bound crowds. You couldn't tell there was a crowd one mile south in the Gulf of Slides.


It was possible to skin up all the way to tundra and the howl of winds coming over the ridge in the Left gully.


Brian Adams jump-turns in the trees.

The difference that one week makes. Fantastic temperatures, safe snow, spring skiing. The Gulf of Slides trail is intact all the way to the parking lot. A stream crossing towards the bottom is starting to open up, but is easy to cross for now. Once the sunshine loosened the snow it was lovely skiing on the trail and the gullies get even more sun, so are in great condition while it's warm. Snowboarders will have to stop about .2 miles from the trailhead where the run flattens out.