Went on a ride to the top of Mt. Washington today. I was disappointed to discover my GoPro hadn't captured my ascent (user error). The Mt. Washington Auto Road is well worth the $16 entrance fee. It's a 8-mile ribbon of tarmac and gravel roads. There are vertigo inducing vistas, hairpin switchbacks, sheer dropoffs, and no guard rails. Though they do have a race up this road every year, I'd recommend a mellow throttle; the drop would be unforgiving. Cars REALLY struggle with the incline. There are stations for servicing radiators on the way up, and constant signs warning motorists to use a low gear and stay off the brakes on the way down. I enjoyed the drive so much that I went up and down twice.
What a view!
Mt. Washington is the highest peak in the northeast and has some of the most extreme weather in the world. But don't take my word for it:
The winds are so strong, they actually have to anchor chain the buildings to the ground:
The shoulders and peak are above the timberline and are shrouded in fog 300 days of the year. Because hikers often get lost in the mist, they've erected cairns along the trail every 10 yards or so.
I went hiking along the cairn trail for about 20 minutes. I found that I am overused to sea level air; I was sucking wind like a landed fish.
Truly "purple mountain's majesty!"
Despite precautions such as the cairns, folks die on the mountain every year.
I didn't photograph the list of names because it did seem morbid. There were a lot of names. I was offended by the sign itself. If my son had died on the mountain, and they had the temerity to list his name next to a sign which proclaimed him "dumb" or "ignorant," I'd burn their weather station down. Still, the quote at the bottom was thought provoking. They should have let the words of Edward Whymper stand alone:
Here's a parting shot of the modern weather station:
Here's a comparison shot of it during the winter:
Amazingly, two-thirds of all winter days endure class 2 hurricane winds. Extreme weather fanatics come from all over to hike Mt. Washington during the winter. No thanks. I prefer a sunny day and a 70 hp motorcycle, thanks.
Alpine tundra and howling winds be damned! I pitched my tent back down in the trees on the banks of the Swift River.
I busted out my fly rod and fished until dark. And yes, I did prove the existence of fish in New Hampshire. I'm now certain that the state contains at least 5 fish--all of them beneath this bridge:
Whether New Hampshire has any fish larger than 13 inches remains conjecture.
Rusty