Spring Skiing in Tuckerman Ravine

Summary
OwnerMITOC Gallery Administrator
Creation Date2005-04-10 10:59:39 UTC-0400
Description


Summit to Pinkham Notch Ski!
Date: April 9, 2005
Location: Mt. Washington, Tuckerman Ravine
Participants: Mike Broderick, Brian Demsky, Chris Glazner
Author: Chris Glazner




Trip Report
We got up at 4 in the morning and were on the road at 4:30. It was really damn early, but we had a big day ahead--Tuckerman Ravine with *perfect* weather and a low avy forecast, despite interesting weather earlier in the week.

Brian and I picked up Mike near the NH border a little past 5, and we were on our way. After stopping for a quick breakfast in Ossipee, we arrived at Pinkham Notch a little after 8 or so. We were pretty pumped about getting there on the early side, until we rounded the corner and saw the parking lot---cars had long since filled the lot, and were spilling out as far as the eye could see down the roads. I guess pretty much all of New England had the same idea that we did.

We geared up, hit the bathroom, and were on our way. We noticed all sorts of people--people gearing up for climbing in Huntington Ravine with enough shiny new gear to make any expedition to the St. Elias Range jealous to Bubbas in cut off blue jeans with Carter-administration skis duct taped to their backpacks (I'm not kidding on this one!). There were people carrying their stuff with every conceivable ski attachment system known to mankind. The line of people up the trail never ended.....it was just one, huge, continuous line. It was the closest I think I've ever come to a pilgrimage.

Brian received plenty of weird looks on his splitboard as he skinned up the trail. I also had my skins with me, so I joined him . Mike, unfortunately, didn't have skins so he had to bareboot it up. The good news was that the trail was in really good shape, so the going wasn't too difficult.

After a break at HoJo's, we took our skis off and made our way up the Little Headwall to the base of the ravine, in all it's glory. It was a spectacular day. We climbed up to Lunch Rocks just in time to see the first few folks of the morning make their way over the Headwall.

There were some spectacular wipeouts and yardsales, and the crowd was really into it. We were all there to witness the best wipeout of the day, which occurred on the climb up. So, there was a long line of people climbing up the Sluice, slowly, foot after foot, using their hands. Mind you, any properly trained Winter School graduate would want to bring an ice axe and use it to self-belay on such a climb. But, many of these wonderful folks were pretty clueless when it came to being safe outside, and were carrying their skis over their shoulder, poles in another hand, while climbing up a 50 degree snowslope. This just isn't the most stable way to climb, especially considering how tight the spacing is between people. So, anyway, one person at the very top of the line going up the Sluice lost his balance and slipped into the person below him, knocking that person loose, causing a chain reaction. When all was said and done, the debris field was huge--bodies and gear strewn everywhere, with a few runaway boards making their way down at a high rate of speed (one of which was admirably tackled by a girl below the Lunch Rocks). Amazingly, no one was seriously hurt (but there were a people people who were seriously pissed). Anyway, after seeing that, we reviewed how to self-belay :)

Brian and I decided to go for it all, because the day was so perfect--we were going to climb to the Summit and ski down. Today it was possible to ski from the Summit all the way to Pinkham Notch, and this would probably be the last weekend it was doable. Mike decided to stay back and ski the ravine. Unfortunately, right after we left, Mike discovered that one of this bindings had broken, so there was to be no skiing for him. He practiced self-arresting a bit and enjoyed watching goofballs the rest of the day.

Brian and I started up Right Gully, ice axes in hand. Many of the people doing this really scared the hell out of me--huffing and puffing, slipping around---I thought a few times about breaking free and finding my own route to the top. Then, the out of shape guy in front of my stepped aside, and after a short sprint I ended up behind a girl wearing polypro and a pair of cut-off Daisy Duke's. I guess you could call it motivation to stay in line.

We made it up and over, took a break, and then continued up. Up Alpine Gardens and then over to some rocks to another snowfield. Steadily, we eventually made our way to the summit. The last few yards were an ice fest, but we didn't feel like putting on crampons, and it was "doable," so we slipped our way to the summit sign. Surprisingly, this was Brian's first ascent! Good thing we got this in before he graduates and heads off to become an assistant professor in God-knows-where.


We heard/saw that the South Snowfields might actually be the best route down, so we kinda bushwacked (rockskipped?) our way down to them. Up top, this was pretty sketchy w/o crampons, but, again, it was just barely doable, so we didn't stop for crampons. At this point, we were racing the sun--it was getting late, and shadows were forming in the ravine. We had to get down before the shadows hit out line, lest we ice skate our way down.

We got ready and really zipped down the summit cone, stopping once to take off our skis to get over some rocks. We came out way too far on the south end of the lip, so had to traverse back across some super sketchy ice to get to the place were most people were dropping in, where there was a line set up.

You could see the shadow advancing across the headwall. One person would drop in, make a turn, and then freeze in horror. We were getting pissed--we couldn't head down with the place littered with people, we had to wait until it was relatively clear.....while the shadow progressed.

Finally, my turn came up. The shadow was really close. I made a couple turns, surprised at just how bumped up it was--I'm talking 3ft. deep trenches in places. I made one turn too wide, and found myself in shadow, and felt the snow underneath me magically transform into hard ice in a matter of seconds. I had people tell me about this, but your really don't appreciate it until it happens to you. Thinking that there was no way I could survive a real turn on this stuff, I pulled off a kick turn and traversed back into the sun and safety, and made good turns down to the Lunch Rocks from there.

I looked up, and Brian was stuck pretty close to where I got stuck as well. I could see him evaluating his options: scary, scary, really scary, and pretty scary. He ended up digging in his edge, and just making long traverses across the bowl. In our defense, this what everyone ended up doing--no one got down gracefully who was caught in the shadow. Lesson for next time: Give yourself a LOT more leeway in your schedule to get down!

We met up with Mike in the ravine, and then skied down over the Little Headwall and down the Sherburne, which was getting pretty bumped up and icy in spots. Most skiers were in survival mode, but Brian and other snowboarders didn't seem to have many problems.

We met back up at the lodge (Mike had to hike down because of his broken binding), and we then hit this awesome pizza place called "Flatbread" in N. Conway. It's in the same building as EMS, the East Slope Inn. Really, really good pizza, and a cool place. We'll definitely have to hit that place again, especially since it's so close to the cabin.
Awesome trip! Left us tired, but happy. Oh, one more thing! DON'T forget sunscreen! We forgot it, and now I look like a raccoon with an awesome glacier glasses tan that screams to my advisor, "Guess who didn't work on his thesis on Saturday!"

Quote from the following day's avalanche report:

"I don't think I have seen the Sherburne go from flat to severe moguls
this rapidly in the past 15 years. Expect these areas to go from an
enjoyable challenge to absolute misery based on the current, or
approaching, temperatures. Large frozen bumps on a 50 degree slope is
anything but fun."