Huntington Ravine and Alpine Garden
The coolest summer ascent is up Huntington Ravine and across the Alpine Garden. Beware: it is just about the steepest trail in the whole White Mountain National Forest.
Winter climbs, bivouacs above treeline, Tuckerman Ravine adventures, route notes, weather links, and a few survival tips that should not be taken too literally.
Mount Washington, the highest peak in the northeastern United States, rises to 6,288 feet above sea level. Like most of my climbing buddies, I’ve climbed Mount Washington more than twenty times, including several winter ascents. If you’re planning serious expeditions to the Himalayas or other high places, this mountain is a great place to practice.
Some of my best climbs have been in winter, when few others are on the mountain. It can be a dangerous world up there, but absolutely incredibly beautiful and surreal.
In my opinion, Mount Washington is truly the Grand Teton of the East.
I’ve bivouacked near the summit five or six times. Don’t bother using a tent up there; the wind will rip it to shreds. Use a bivy sack instead.
One weekend Ricky and I were going to bivouac just below the summit, and Bob was with us. Rick and I had full winter gear, but Bob had none. Ricky let Bob borrow his three-season sleeping bag so he could stay down low at Hojo’s, the Hermit Lake Shelters just below treeline. Bob wanted to stay up high with us, but he only had the summer bag. He also had no ice ax, just a ski pole. Sure enough, he froze his butt off. Bob survived the ordeal, and then went down and spent a year and a half at the South Pole. He has gotten smarter over the years; he now lives and works in Kauai.
On another bivy, Dann, Ricky, and I set up on the plateau just below the summit cone. The weather was nice, but it was summer and very humid. When morning came, I poked my head out of my bivy sack and could see nothing but fog. We were in the clouds.
I yelled for those guys, but no one answered. I thought they were only about six feet away from me when I went to sleep, but figured they must have woken up and headed down below treeline during the night when the storm rolled in. So I crawled a couple feet, still in my sleeping bag, and there they were, six feet from me. The wind was howling so bad, and the fog was so thick, that I couldn’t see six feet away. An hour later, it was still so thick that we almost had to crawl down to treeline along Edmunds Path.
The coolest summer ascent is up Huntington Ravine and across the Alpine Garden. Beware: it is just about the steepest trail in the whole White Mountain National Forest.
If you go up Huntington and still have plenty of time left, Boott Spur makes a spectacular way down. It turns into a long day, but an awesome loop.
Another great hike, and my first ascent, was up Ammonoosuc and down Jewell. These are on the west side and have the advantage of late-day sun. Very excellent loop.
Caps Ridge Trail, also from the west, is totally awesome. It starts at about 3,000 feet, goes up Jefferson, and connects to several other trails.
I’ve bivied near Lake of the Clouds hut many times, usually in spring while doing the Tuckerman Ravine spring skiing thing. There are lots of great places to set up, like near the summit of Monroe, although it is illegal to camp above treeline, about 4,000 feet, except during winter when the snowpack underneath you is at least two feet deep.
If you get caught camping illegally up there, the fines are pretty steep. If you get caught unexpectedly by the weather, the penalty can be much worse. If this sort of weird “recreation” really appeals to you, your best bet would be to contact one of the mountain guide services down in North Conway.
I also did a couple bivies on Mount Monroe, but if a storm comes in while you are up there, it’s all over.
Dann and I bivied once on the east side near Glen Boulder. During dinner, we watched the fog roll in and slowly envelop everything below about 3,000 feet. The undercast stayed all night, and all the peaks above 3,500 feet were like islands in the sky.
We’ve done some nice ice climbs up in the ravines, and some cool winter ascents. Our last attempt was the final day of winter in 1998. We needed full winter gear, including crampons and ice ax. We got part way up the summit cone, to within about 800 feet of the summit. The fog was thick, visibility was about 100 feet, and worst of all, avalanche conditions just below the summit were severe.
All the parties were turning back, so we did too. We had an excellent winter climb that day, but the summit was not to be. Two weeks later I was up there in a tee-shirt. Go figure.
Please note: more than a hundred people have died on Mount Washington over the years. Many others survive a horrifying ordeal, but usually only after putting dozens of volunteer rescue personnel in harm’s way. If you decide to go out to these wild places and put yourself in these conditions, be responsible for yourself and for everyone in your party.
There are many requirements: good judgment, common sense, experience, and leadership are just a few. Unexpected things can and do happen. If your hat or gloves blow away in the wind, you head off on the wrong trail, or you slip and blow out a knee, you might get to find out what freezing to death is like.
Your cell phone and GPS unit are useful tools, but they are not going to save you by themselves. Self-rescue may be your best and only option. Be prepared. Expect the unexpected. Always carry a bivy sack on every climb. Be prepared to spend the night up there.
Plan for the worst, but hope for the best.
The guys I climb with are sort of strange, just like me. We’ve planned ahead for what to do when things do go wrong. If you know that you or your climbing partner are about to freeze to death, then just before you drift off into lala-land, do this: take your backpack off, lay flat on your back, legs together, feet pointed up, hands on your ears, elbows pointed up, head tilted slightly upward.
It will make the recovery for the rescuers a whole lot easier. Your corpse will freeze in the shape of a toboggan, and a couple of the rescue volunteers can sit on you, hold on to your elbows and feet, and ride you down the mountain without wasting a body bag.
Another good tip: the Big Rock Technique. Warning: discuss these things ahead of time. If your buddy is close to death, and rescue would be really difficult, but recovery of the corpse would be relatively easy a couple days later after the climb is completed, then find a big rock and finish the guy off. Ricky, Dann, and I all wear just about the same size boots and outerwear, so we might as well put the gear to use and finish the climb.
Also, if you are freezing to death and it is really windy, then wrap your hands tightly around a tree to keep from getting blown off the mountain. It makes things tougher for the rescue crew, but some of them carry hand saws just for these situations.
One more tip: when the Johnny Walker becomes slushy and difficult to pour out of the flask, you should realize that the temperature has fallen below the danger level, and it is time to head down off the mountain.
Choosing the appropriate backpacking stove is critical in harsh winter conditions. Dann uses Bacardi 151 or Devil’s Springs 160-proof vodka in his MSR-XGK multi-fuel stove. That way, if it is too windy to cook, he’s not too upset, since he didn’t carry all that stove fuel for nothing. Plus, he sometimes gets free handouts of food or drink from other climbers who see him drinking his stove fuel and think he’s whacko.
Spending enough time in the mountains eventually gives climbers a somewhat twisted sense of humor. Long days, bad weather, frozen boots, and close calls tend to do that. None of the preceding should be interpreted as actual survival advice — although some of it may contain a tiny grain of truth.
Way back in 2003, I volunteered for a week during the winter on the summit of Mount Washington. During the winter, there are only about four or five meteorologists living and working up there, and the only way on or off the mountain is by snowcat, which makes a single trip each week on Wednesday morning.
For an entire week, I was essentially stranded on the summit with some of the toughest weather in North America raging outside the observatory. It was a fascinating experience getting a glimpse into daily life on the mountain, helping out where needed, and watching the weather change hour by hour. The views, the storms, the isolation, and the camaraderie made it one of the most memorable volunteer experiences I've ever had.
That was an incredible week, for sure!
Spring skiing, big snow, sunburns, and one of the great annual traditions in the White Mountains.
Photos and stories from ice climbs in the ravines and other cold places.
Thinking about heading up the mountain? These are the resources I check before every trip. Conditions on Mount Washington can change incredibly fast, especially during winter and shoulder seasons.
Current observations from the Mount Washington Observatory.
The forecast that matters most if you are heading up high.
Essential for Tuckerman Ravine, Huntington Ravine, and winter travel.
Sometimes gorgeous, sometimes iced over, always worth checking.