Ice Climbing Escapade
Last April, I called up my friends Willie Kidwell and Tommy Foster and spontaneously told them we should plan a trip to New Hampshire. I explained we would be hiking Mount Washington, the most dangerous mountain in the continental United States, due to it's unpredictable weather. Naturally, the boys were on board. One year later, April 2019, we decided we had to head back up to New Hampshire. Only this time, we thought instead of hiking for the day we'd learn to ice climbing. It is in these spur of the moment adventures, sporadically thrown together, where I find the greatest joy in life. These are the trips that end up being a true adventure, leaving a lasting impression, and create lifelong memories.
Day 1: We took off from Baltimore, Maryland and began our ten hour drive north. Upon arriving, we shacked up in a motel for the night eager for our first day of ice climbing.
Day 2: The next morning we met our guide at the International Mountain Climbing School. After a gear check, we headed out. The first day consisted of a three pitch, three hundred foot, frozen waterfall. After our thirty minute hike through the snow, we arrived at the beast of a wall. With our Crampons on our feet and ice picks in hand ,we began our assent. Naturally, our guide lead the climb and we each followed, one-by-one. Half way up, stopped at a small cave, carved out on the mountain side. We climbed for hours as our guide taught us everything he knows. We'd each climb up one at a time, while the others hung out (literally). Hanging over the edge of the two hundred foot waterfall, grasping the ice with our crampons and ice picks, you couldn't help but be completely submerged in the moment. Finally, we reached the top, took a quick break to snack on a cliff bar and PB&J, and began our repel back down.
After the climb it was time for us to find our humble abode for the evening. Unlike the night before, we decided we wanted to completely immerse our selves in the environment. We drove twenty minutes up to the nearby state forest. Little did we know, up here, there was easily three to four feet of snow everywhere around us. The only access past the entrance of the state forest was via snowmobile. Being the determined, and naturally, unprepared guys we are, we trudged forward in our Vans and Sperrys down the snowmobile trail. One step to the left or the right, and you were sinking waist deep in snow. After almost an hour trying to find a place where it would be possible to pitch a tent for the night. One of the guys said, "Hey why don't we just head back into town and hit a bar, watch the Final Four, and grab a motel?" The other turned in an expression of agreement, "Yeah, that sounds great to me". I immediately interjected, "We didn't drive 10 hours to New Hampshire to go to a bar and watch basketball! We're finding a camp site!" At that instant, I noticed foot prints in the snow walking away from the trail. Without saying anything, I began to follow the footprints deeper into the woods. After a difficult few hundred yards later I came across a 10x5 shoveled out section in the snow. After further examination, I pulled up some snow covered burnt fire logs and realized someone had previously been here some time ago. Stoked, I ran back to the snowmobile path and grabbed the guys and explained I found the spot where we'd be sleeping that night. Shortly after, we were back at the car packing up the hatchet, tent, and logs. We began our hike back into the snow covered state forest. That night we miraculously built a fire, cooked some food, dried out our gloves and shoes, and passed around a bottle of scotch.
Day 3: After sleeping in the middle of the snow covered New Hampshire state forest, we awoke, packed up our shit and headed back down to the International Climbing School for our second day of ice climbing. This day, we drove a bit further to a local ice climbing gorge. In the summer there is a river flowing right through the gorge, but during the winter and early spring the river is frozen enough on top that you can walk on it. As we arrived, our guide was a bit concerned because it was toward the end of ice climbing season and you could see the river was alive and flowing beneath the unpredictable layer of ice. Cautiously, we carried on anyway. We spent the next several hours taking turns climbing a vertical thirty to forty foot face in the freezing, pouring rain. While the conditions to most, would have been dangerous and absolutely miserable. The three of us had the time of our lives climbing the different sections of the ice face. As the day drew on and the ice beneath our feet was crumbling hour by hour, the guide finally suggested we call it a day due to safety precautions. After which, he laughed and explained how he's never had another group put up with the conditions we endured that day and commended us on our endurance through it all. It We laughed, packed up all our gear, thanked him for the epic time and began our ten hour journey back south to Maryland.
These are the memories I will never forget. The spontaneous trips with your best friends that leave a lasting impression. Its the unpredictability of the weather, the nature of how unprepared we naturally were, and the freeing feeling of trusting your life on instinct, your guide and a 9mm rope that you will never forget. These are the moments in life that let your mind escape from society, the daily grind, and all your troubles. It is in these moments you have no other choice but to relish in the beauty of the present. These are the moments I live for.
