The crown jewel of New England has been in the news quite a bit these past couple weeks. On Feb. 3rd, the Mount Washington Observatory measured a wind chill of nearly -110, setting the all time low wind chill measured anywhere in the United States, including Alaska. They also measured an actual temperature of -47°, matching the Observatory's record low set in 1934.
So today, first a bit on ice from my book, “The White Mountain: Rediscovering Mount Washington’s Hidden Culture.”
This morning, the mist sits heavy on the summit, ghostly. Everything—every building, piece of equipment, sign, railing, window, deck, rock, railway track, and tower— every single inch of every single everything is covered in rime and ice.
The rime flints off every available surface, even the ground. The chains that hold the signal house to the ground are so encrusted, I can’t get my hand around a link. The summit sign is gone under the ice. The precipitation collector is under ice. There are no rocks, only ice.
And it’s quiet. All sound relates only to ice—flakes tinkling in the slight wind, the crunch of my spiked boots against the ground, my breath, which from under my goggles looks hard, like it’s halfway to ice. There are one hundred shades of white.
I wander down off the deck, doing a circuit of the summit. Visibility is, perhaps, twenty feet. In some cases, the ice on the side of a wall, or railing, blends so perfectly with the misty air that it’s like an illusion; I have to reach out and touch a rock to know that something is there. That or trip over it, which I do several times because the ground is that way as well. White. Ice.
Finally, I thought I’d conclude by letting Mount Washington speak for itself through the lens of outdoor photographer and hiker Philip Carcia. Here’s a picture taken early on Feb. 13, with the morning undercast rising up to meet the mountain
Please visit Philip’s website to learn more about his adventures and photography. His work is truly amazing. Learn about him here: Finding Philip