A Moosilauke Climbing Haiku – Prouty Prep Hikes

               

A Moosilauke Climbing Haiku

April 7, 2013

Wes Chapman

Preface:  You’re probably getting a little bored reading repetitive blogs about familiar climbs. In an attempt to keep it fresh, I’m going to boil the essence of the hike down to a limerick or haiku (hopefully humorous) and let the pictures tell the story. In response to a critique from one of my daughters (a heartless critic), I’m embedding video via hyperlinks in the poem. We’ll see how it goes.

 

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Winter rages on high

Spring in the valley below

Peter stayed in bed

 

 

Moosilauke still locked in winter

Rick Morse getting blown around at the summit

Peter stayed in bed

Whiteface & Passaconaway – A Prouty Prep Hike

         

A Prouty Prep Hike

Whiteface & Passaconaway

11.2 miles, 4,019 & 4,043 ft. respectively

Via Blueberry Ledge, Rollins and Dicey’s Mill Trails

February 23, 2013

Wes Chapman

For those of us in western New Hampshire, getting to the eastern 4,000 footers is nettlesome – requiring lots of driving over bad roads in winter. It is, however, well worth the effort. Whiteface and Passaconaway are the jewels of the Sandwich Range, and make for a splendid winter hike.

 

The route

Passaconaway is named for an Indian Chief of the Pennacook Tribe in what is now Massachusetts, who lived and ruled during the period of the Pilgrim settlement – beginning in 1620. Passaconaway comes from the combined word Papoose Conewa, meaning Child of the Bear. Passaconaway was revered by Indians and white settlers alike, and was referred to in his later years as St. Aspenquid by the English. He is described as a giant, possessed of magical powers including the ability to make water burn, and spontaneously generate lightning – very cool. The mountain named after him comes complete with a small river named after his son, Wonalancet, and together with Whiteface forms a basin which includes a fair amount of old growth forest. This is a beautiful area, and is to the outdoor program at UNH what Moosilauke is to those of us at Dartmouth – the heart and soul of their outdoor program.

 

Passaconaway from Whiteface in 2008

Chief Passaconaway in a dour mood

I persuaded my Kilimanjaro climbing partner – Rick “Rambo” Morse to come along on the climb, despite a persistent light snow and low clouds.

Rick “Rambo” Morse on the way up Whiteface

Negotiating some steep ice near the summit of Whiteface

Wes near the Whiteface summit

Steep and icy near the summit of Whiteface

 The summit of Whiteface was socked in clouds and deserted. We ate a quick lunch and headed over to Passaconaway via the Rollins Trail in the clouds and snow. I was reminded that the last time I ate lunch here there were naked women – probably wood nymphs – sunbathing on the warm rocks at the summit. I banished the memory and headed out – the harsh realities of chilly February stifling the wonderful recollections of a warm September.

The Rollins Trail is always long, but it has been blocked in areas by winter blow-downs and the going was slow. We saw some moose tracks and sign on the way over to Passaconaway, but not much else. The summit of Passaconaway is quite heavily forested, and with the storm afforded no views. We headed down the valley at flank speed – hopefully to get out before the storm socked us in.

On the way out I was reminded of the story of Passaconaway’s burial – he reputedly rode a sled pulled by a team of wolves to the top of Mt Washington (Agiocochook, or “Home of the Great Spirit”) where he spontaneously burst into flames and went to join the Great Spirit. It’s called going out in style.

Blow-downs on the Rollins Trail

The unremarkable summit of Passaconaway

The best view of the trip may be the little farm at the end of the trail, with Mt. Wonalancet in the background. This is a fun hike any time of year, but I recommend warm days when the wood nymphs are about.

End of the trail in September

Adios, from Mt. Passaconaway in February

Winter Triple Play – Climbing Mt Waumbek, Cannon & Mt Tecumseh

Mt. Tecumseh (4.4 miles, 4,004 ft.), Waumbek (4,006 ft. 7.2 miles),

Cannon Mt. (4,100 ft. 4 miles)

February 3, 2013

Wes Chapman

         

Mt Tecumseh & Waterville Valley from Mt Tripyramid

Winter can be a cold and lonely time in the North Country, so I decided to pursue the 48 4,000 foot mountains in New Hampshire as a reasonable alternative to fireside sloth or skiing on ice. Over the last couple of weekends we’ve done three; Tecumseh – home to Waterville Valley ski area, Cannon – home to the eponymous ski area, and Waumbek – a lovely little jewel off Route 2 in Jefferson NH.

Waterville Valley is a robust real estate development, attached to a modest ski area, built on Mt. Tecumseh – the smallest of the 4,000 foot mountains in New Hampshire. The mountain was founded in 1966 by Tom Corcoran, a 1954 graduate of Dartmouth College and two-times Olympian. The mountain has had a checkered financial history – in and out of bankruptcy – and is currently controlled by an investment group assembled by the Sununu family. Waterville Valley – like Cannon – does not allow AT access to the front of the mountain, so we climbed the pleasant Tecumseh Trail to the summit.

Gary, Wes Pete and Jill headed up Tecumseh

The weather was cold, so the climbing trail was packed with hikers – seeking some alternative to the wind and cold on the lifts. Near the summit we met a group of 6-8 who had spent the night camping on the summit, and were pretty cold and eager to get down. The view from the summit was great to the northeast to the Presidentials, but it was well below zero, and blowing around 20 mph, so we did not tarry long. We hopped on our skis, and headed down to grab a little cross country skiing before departing.

Mt Washington & Mt. Carrigain from Tecumseh

 

Jill demonstrates the mountaineering Burka

The cross country skiing was great – fast, cold snow with nice tracks. We skied out Livermore Road to the big pines – apparently two or three old growth pines that somehow escaped the ax for the King’s masts or knotty pine paneling. In any event, these are some big trees, and worth a little après-ski cross country.

 

Jill resting against the big pine

 

Big pines – from the bottom up

 

Cannon from the Kinsman Ridge Trail

Having been turned away from Cannon a couple of weeks earlier, yesterday I went back at it – up the steep but short Kinsman Ridge Trail. Last week witnessed warm weather, followed by torrential rain, followed by the return of frigid cold. The day was cold and dark and the trail was a solid sheet of ice – first requiring Microspikes then full crampons. I bumped into only a few fellow pilgrims on the ascent, and was at the summit in about 1.25 hours.

Some fresh ice on the Kinsman Ridge Trail

There was very little skier traffic, and I was all alone at the modest summit structure. Snow was starting to blow, and I headed out.

The summit of Cannon

I met a number of people on the way down who had ridden up on the tram, and wanted to hike out. None of them was prepared for the ice, and they were falling the whole way down.

This morning found Pete and me in Jefferson NH, preparing for a quick hike up Mt Waumbek. The last time that I climbed this Hill was in the tail end of a hurricane, and today’s weather was a perfect alternative – spectacularly clear and cold.

Pete on the summit of Waumbek

We headed up the 3.6 mile Starr King Trail, which was icy, but mercifully less steep than Cannon. Near the top we bumped into our Kilimanjaro climbing pal Brad, who was out for a little Sunday hike with another friend. It was great to see him, but we missed his wife Ann (and frequent climbing partner), who had headed to the Caribbean for a little warm weather R&R.

A beautiful cool morning on Mt Waumbek

It was 0° F on the summit, and more people and dogs started to show up – time to go. The trip down was fast, and a lot of fun. The drive home included a lunch stop at the Mooselook Diner and a piece of their signature maple cream pie – simply terrific.

Adios, from Mt Waumbek

 

Winter Climbing & AT Skiing on Wildcat A&D (4,422 & 4,062ft.) and Cannon Mountain

Winter Climbing & AT Skiing on

Wildcat A&D (4,422 & 4,062ft.)  and Cannon Mountain

A Study in Contrasts

January 24, 2013

Wes Chapman

 Wildcat from Tuckerman Ravine on Mt. Washington

     

Mt. Washington from Wildcat

 

Cannon Mountain from Franconia Ridge

I enjoy alpine touring (AT) skiing – the semi-old school use of climbing skins and sophisticated bindings to allow cross country functionality on alpine skis. I’ve used them for the last 4 years both to access wild back country areas (occasionally) and/or to get some exercise (frequently) climbing up the front of the mountain – either late in the day or to get to an area closed to lift traffic by a “wind hold”.

Most of the AT skiing that I do is on Sugarloaf in Maine – a delightful Hill that celebrates AT skiers and the bridge to the past that they represent. I’m currently working on the winter 4,000 footers in New Hampshire, and I decided that doing the 3 ski areas in the state on AT gear – Wildcat, Cannon and Waterville Valley (Mount Tecumseh actually) – might be a fun way to get a little skiing and climbing mixed on the same trip. I always buy a lift ticket and do a few “lift assisted” runs together with the climb – it only seems fair.

Wildcat is one of the oldest and most challenging ski areas in the East. The original Wildcat Trail was laid out by the great skier Charley Proctor and cut by the Civilian Conservation Corps beginning in 1933. The development of ski lifts was started shortly thereafter by Brooks Dodge and George Macomber – famous names in eastern skiing in general and Dartmouth skiing in particular. The mountain stands alone without any residential real estate development. The facilities are old school New England skiing, and I absolutely love the place.

Looking down Wildcat Ridge to Mt Washington

Wildcat is actually a long (2.5 miles) ridge to the southeast of the Presidential Range. There are 5 peaks on the ridge, 2 of which count as 4,000 footers. The ski area is built on the “D” peak, and it is a 2.1 mile walk down the ridge to the highest summit in the chain – A Peak at 4,422 feet. This is a really nice walk in the winter, and the trail was hard snow and very fast.

Wildcat requires that uphill walking and skiing be done on the Polecat Trail, which is the longest and gentlest grade trail on the Hill. The trail was fast, the crowds light and I was on the top in 1.25 hours. At the top I got to talking with a young woman on the local Ski Patrol – a recently minted MS from Cornell with a degree in botany. She was totally engaging, apologizing for the limitations on AT skiing at Wildcat and the requirement to buy a lift ticket – restrictions that I don’t find particularly onerous.

On the way down the ridge I met a dozen or so fellow climbers and skiers. Wildcat is a hospitable environment for New Englanders who love the mountains that retains the charm of its roots. I am a fan of this place.

The next day my friend Pete and I headed over to Cannon Mountain in Franconia Notch, hoping for a repeat performance. Cannon is a state owned and operated facility in Franconia Notch, which frankly has a fairly poor reputation among skiers and hikers in New Hampshire. Like Wildcat, the ski area was originally cut by the CCC, and dates back to the ‘30’s. Unlike Wildcat, it is wildly festooned with lifts and equipment, designed to suck a little money out of the motorists passing by on I93, located directly below.

I bought a ticket, strapped on my skis and headed up the Hill, only to be promptly turned back by a passing ski patrol. I explained that I had a ticket, and was in no way trying to rip them off – in fact I was paying for lifts that I really didn’t plan to use much. It didn’t matter – climbing in any form was found to violate the delicate sensibilities of the downhill only crowd.

Having a ticket, we took a couple of runs on the blue ice that they make at Cannon instead of snow. We found that most of the best runs had snow making equipment, but no snow. I was not impressed, and Pete was disgusted – he had just spent a couple of days enjoying the skiing at Okemo, and this was an ugly mess by comparison.

 

Pete enjoying the native deposits of ice at Cannon

On the slope at right – a nice trail waiting for someone to turn on the snow guns

We made a couple of runs, and headed back to Hanover for a little cross country skiing to clear our heads and put some distance between us and the ugly memory of Cannon.

If you get a chance, spend a day at Wildcat – it’s a great mountain with a real skier culture. Alternatively, if given a choice between a day at Cannon or working on my taxes, I’d pick the tax work every time.

Adios, from Wildcat (looking at Mt Washington)

Mt. Kilimanjaro & Prouty Mountaineering – Barafu Camp & Kilimanjaro Summit

       

Barafu Camp and Kilimanjaro Summit

8 miles, 5,895 meters, 493 mb pressure

The Prouty Mountaineering Program
(the first Prouty Challenge Event benefitting Dartmouth-Hitchcock Norris Cotton Cancer Center)

December 19, 2012

Wes Chapman

 

The team launches for the summit – 2:00 AM

Properly executed, the summit push on Kili begins with a cold hike in the dark, and ends at the summit in delight. Our team got an intentionally late start, hoping to spend the day in the crater, and return to Barafu camp, rather than continue down to Mweka Camp at 10,000 feet. We had built the luxury of a spare day into the schedule, and it also afforded the chance for a second summit day if we got shut down by inclement weather or illness.

The worry on Kilimanjaro is always the potential for acute mountain sickness, (AMS); a very bad actor that can result in high altitude cerebral edema (HACE), or high altitude pulmonary edema (HAPE). These two conditions combine to make Kili a fairly dangerous climb – only because of the altitude. It is impossible to predict who will be susceptible to AMS, and 4 of our 5 team members had never climbed above 14,500 feet – we were in new territory. Our team was either taking acetazolamide or dexamethasone for the amelioration of the typical symptoms of headache, nausea, sleeplessness, loss of appetite and related AMS maladies.

The key determinant in AMS is the absolute reduction in air pressure – not any relative change in % oxygen in the atmosphere, which remains constant at 21% up to 69,000 ft. Two of the major physiological changes caused by altitude are the acidification of the blood due to changes in CO² concentration, and an increase in edema, due to poorly understood changes in capillary function. These conditions always become much more dangerous above “extreme altitude” of 5,500 meters – just below the summit of Uhuru Peak at 5,895 meters on Kilimanjaro. We measured the air pressure at the summit at 493 mbars, just about half of the normal pressure of 1013.25 mbars at sea level.

The hike up Kilimanjaro in the dark is cold and a bit dull, but is a real test of the cardiovascular system. The climb up from Barafu is pretty consistently steep, gaining over 4,000 feet in 2 miles. Sunrise broke over a cloudy and breezy morning, and found us just below the 19,000 foot level at the crater rim at Stella Point. Fortunately, everybody in our party was in really good health, and we pressed on to the summit before the storm hit.

For those who push to physical failure on the mountain, the only alternative is a one way trip on a one wheeled cart. This is a long trip over bad trail, and ensures that if you weren’t seriously hurt when you started, you will be when you finish. Our last day saw three unfortunate climbers exit the mountain via the cart – and directly to Arusha hospital.

 

Jeff illustrates the hard way down – the one wheeled cart

 

Mt. Mawenzi in the clouds at sunrise

Rick enjoying the happy prospect of the summit just below Stella Point

 

Stella Point – a flat walk to the summit

Uhuru summit on the crater rim

 

Glaciers near the summit

The weather on the summit was very windy, and a bit foreboding of snow and ice to come in the afternoon. We hustled to get the team banners, recently augmented by the yellow ribbons, hung in the breeze. As always, any climb above 17,500 feet is a treat for me, and this was particularly sweet.

A great moment for the team on the summit

The trip down came sooner than expected – our arrival was shortly followed by the arrival of a bit of blowing ice and snow – and our plans for a day in the crater were terminated. While we missed a bit of adventure, we attained the real goal – the summit – and the happy prospect of an afternoon nap overwhelmed any disappointed. We headed down at a trot.

That evening, the storm blew in with a vengeance – and found us in the mess tent enjoying a warm candle light dinner while the storm hammered away outside. Suddenly, through the tent flap stepped a young European woman, and she said, “help – please”. It sounds like the plot to an Agatha Christie novel, but it actually happened.

We determined that she was about frozen solid – her hands no longer worked – and she was drenched to the skin; we’re talking a pretty solid case of hypothermia. We got her out of her soaked clothes, and some warm soup into her – she had been on the trail for 9 hours and was a mess. Her name was Levina – a Dutch woman – and she was completing a 4 month trip to Africa with a budget rate trip up Kili, and was paying the price. After about 45 minutes we released her back to her guide, with the promise that she come by in the morning to confirm that she was OK.

Alpine glow on the Hill as we depart

 

Levina gets new boots – from Kelly

 

Levina with Kelly – a new adopted teammate

The descent day dawned clear, cold and beautiful. Levina came by, and was suffering from what appeared to be edema of the entire body – even her boots didn’t fit. Kelly/Jeff arranged a complicated trade – putting reasonably fitting boots on everybody. A little dexamethasone and she was headed down and on the way to a speedy and complete recovery. With much help from the team at East Africa Voyage, we adopted Levina for the rest of the trip, for the benefit and entertainment of all involved – she was really quite a fearless character.

The 2012 Kili Team comes off the Hill

Mt. Mawenzi as we depart

Somehow, pulling Levina into the team made the symmetry of the trip perfect; as we scattered to the four winds for the Holiday. One last night, and one last team photo, and we were gone.

The entire Team on the last day

Adios, from Kileman-Jaro

Mt. Kilimanjaro & Prouty Mountaineering – Karanga & Barafu Camps on the Machame Trail

         

Karanga Camp and Barafu Camp

8 miles, 3,995 meters & 3 miles 4,605 meters 582 mb pressure

The Prouty Mountaineering Program
(the first Prouty Challenge Event benefitting Dartmouth-Hitchcock Norris Cotton Cancer Center)

December 18, 2012

Wes Chapman

Sunrise at Lava Tower Camp

The descent from the lava tower follows the Barranco Valley directly below the Window Buttress and the spectacular hanging Arrow Glacier. This valley is caused by a large collapse feature (a major fault) that leads directly down to Barranco Camp and the entertaining Barranco Wall. Additionally, the descent moves from the alpine desert ecological zone back into the moorland – with a resulting bumper crop of some of the stranger flora endemic to Kili, including the giant lobelia deckenii – another plant refugee from Dr. Seuss.

A giant Lobelia Deckenii in the Barranco Valley

The trail down to Barranco camp follows a stream down the valley floor; around .25-.50 miles back from the base of the summit cone of Kilimanjaro. This affords some spectacular views in the morning, before the predictable diurnal clouds roll up the mountain by 9-10:00 AM.

Hanging glaciers from the Barranco Valley

Today was billed as a long day – 7-8 hours – without a hot lunch. Over the past couple of years the Park Rangers have taken to selling cold boxed lunches along the trail, and in the transparent abuse of their power have prohibited the guides from preparing hot lunches for their guests along the trail – who needs the competition. We refused to be bullied into doing business with these guys, but as a consequence, it was a long way between meals on the trail. Our team is comprised of a bunch of good eaters, and we did not tarry long at the Barranco Camp – focused as we were on a nice late lunch. We hustled up the Barranco Wall, and across the next couple of valleys to reach the Karanga Camp just as the rain set in. We enjoyed two full meals in three hours, and settled in for a long night’s rest.

Kapanya scrambling on the Barranco Wall

Kelly on the wall in her signature climbing pajamas

Porters (barely visible) climbing the Barranco Wall

Kilimanjaro at dawn from the Karanga Camp

We awoke to a clear cold and breezy morning at the Karanga Camp. As you can see in the photo above, the wind was blowing hard off the Indian Ocean and piling clouds up on the windward side of the mountain. This is clearly a sign of bad weather, and I was worried about our ability to get pictures of our yellow ribbons for cancer victims, survivors and care providers at the summit. Our friend Seke Godson of East African Voyage had suggested, “The Mountain has many summits Wes, don’t wait for the last day to take pictures”. The wisdom of this advice was becoming more apparent as the storm threatened, and we decided to do a complete run of all of the yellow ribbons, in case it proved to be impossible at the summit due to weather or altitude sickness.

A yellow ribbon for Audrey Prouty

We had planned a one person – two camera format to ensure at least one good picture per ribbon. We got set up and started the shooting, and as you can see in the photo sequence below, the weather degraded rapidly, substituting a gray cloud backdrop for Kili. As the photos progressed, the sheer number of ribbons, and the stories of the people that we knew gradually became overwhelming. All of us had some ribbons for victims that we did not know personally, and somehow the anonymity of their suffering piled on the emotion of the moment in a way that none of us expected.

Brad remembering a friend – as the mountain vanishes into a cloud

I had watched Saving Private Ryan in the plane on the way over, and as the porters gathered around to watch, the similarities to the famous “dog-tag scene” flared up. The porters were discussing among themselves the strange proceedings – gradually figuring out what was going on – coached by the head guide Kapanya.

Jeff makes a simple but powerful tribute

Kelly with a yellow ribbon as the Mountain vanishes

Two days later I learned in a very simple and direct fashion the impact that the yellow ribbons had on the rest of the East Africa team, and how much these guys bought into the message and the purpose of the climb. It turns out that due to both environmental factors and better diagnostics, the apparent rate of cancer in the local community is skyrocketing. Cancer impacts these guys as much as it does us – and the growth of diagnosed cases is terrifying. Before we left Barafu Camp, the local team insisted on a photo with our banners and the Tanzanian National Flag. There is nothing better for building a team than a truly shared mission.

A unified team with a shared mission

The entire experience at Karanga left me emotionally drained, and in need of clearing my head. Once we got packed up and the team ready, I took off up the trail – as fast as I could go. I really needed to blow off a little steam, and the trail to Barafu beckoned into the mist.

Cairns on the trail to Barafu