We planned this trip with two main objectives in mind: visiting Randy's elderly grandmother and skiing Tuckerman's Ravine to celebrate his 40th birthday on April 4. Randy's birthday falls in the same week as spring break all around the country so finding affordable tickets was a bit of a challenge but United Airlines offered the best deal at the time I booked.
It's a very long way to New Hampshire from Washington so I scheduled a 6:10 flight so that we would arrive at his aunt and uncles at a reasonable East Coast time. Unfortunately that meant we had to get up at 1:30 in the morning so we could get to Seatac by 4:00 a.m. Since we brought our skis we had extra baggage to lug around (and pay for — Oy!). Still, we were about the third party in line at the airport. The ticket counters weren't even open yet. Everything went smoothly through baggage check, security and boarding. Then we fly to Chicago on a full plane. I slept for most of the flight despite being in the middle seat. An hour layover in Chicago and another ontime flight to Manchester. The weather is nice in Manchester, warmer than Seattle. We get our rental car and begin the 3-hour journey north to the boonies where Aunt Gail and Uncle George live.
We stop at a decent pub in a college town a couple hours away. Already we miss the fine selection of microbrews we can get on the west coast, but the beer is good enough and we're on our way again. It's getting dark, there are signs warning about moose all along the road. And of course we see a big bull just about to cross the road in the dark as we zip along at highway speed. Eeeek! What a big hairy eyeball looking into the passenger window! We need to take Hwy 3 off Hwy 93 at some point but Hwy 3 criss crosses Hwy 93 in at least a dozen places. Which exit to take? We figure it out — it's after Franconia Notch. And we finally arrive at around 9:00 p.m. Gail and George graciously allow us in even though it is almost past their bedtime.
The next day we visit with Randy's Grammy, who lives in a nursing home. She's 92 years old, still full of spunk but can hardly see or hear anymore. But she's fun to talk to even if she mixes up a few memories. We spent a couple hours visiting with her. That was Wednesday, I think. We also drove up to Pinkham Notch to get some info on the ski conditions. Icy in the morning but warms up and softens in the afternoon. And the weather forecast for Thursday was for a bluebird spring day. Perfect!
The weatherman delivered for Thursday! We started at the Visitors Center with skis attached to our pack, thinking we'd have to hike a ways before putting on skis. Fortunately the snow hadn't melted out to the ground yet so after obligatory pictures at the trailhead sign we were able to put on skis and skin up the trail. The skiing was pretty easy, although snow is very hot under the sun. It feels like trudging through the desert.
Within a couple hours we made it to the ranger cabin, which has a big deck for sunning and relaxing. There were a number of other skiers there who had mostly planned to ski a nearby run called Hillman Highway. After a snack we put skis back on and trudged up toward Tuckerman Ravine. When we really got a perspective of the ravine I thought we were crazy for wanting to try it but I'm usually up for anything and the snow was soft and skiable. We had actually planned to ski a gentler (relatively speaking) slope referred to as Right Gully but some skiers ahead of us said that it was icy. The better conditions were in the ravine.
The uptrack got so steep that we had to take off our skis and bootpack up a snow staircase. Randy doesn't like terrain that steep because there are consequences to falling. He has a better sense of self-preservation than I do. I lead the way up staircase, often putting my hands directly in front of me to steady myself on the slope. I kept looking to my right, noticing a group walking down from the summit of Mount Washington and thinking that there was an alternative to skiing if it was too scary. Unfortunately I don't always have good judgement about my level of ability and the conditions.
We were the only ones at the top of the ridge even though a party of three had skied down as we climbed up. It looked like some weather was moving in so there wasn't time to summit Mount Washington and that had never been the primary goal. The summit was close enough to be tempting though. Anyway, I snapped a picture of the summit while we nervously put on our skis. Randy had me go first because he's the better skier and if something happened he could help me. I wasn't fond of that arrangement because I'm used to following him down tricky slopes.
To say that Tuckerman Ravine is a tricky slope is an understatement but I understood the logic. The top is a gentle slope where I was able to get in a few warm up turns. But then at "The Lip" the slope drops off the edge of the earth. Randy tells me I need to do a hop turn. I've never done a hop turn, even in a ski resort, and this is the steepest slope I've ever seen up close and personal. But I'm a good sport and give it a try. The Lip is a 55 degree slope. I enjoy skiing 25 slopes, am competent at 30-35 degree slopes, and probably have survival skied short sections of 40 and above degree slopes. I'm happy to report that I made several successful turns, one at a time, down that 55 degree slope. The ski is softening nicely but a little sticky. The last time I waxed my skis was at the beginning of the season. Note to self about waxing…
The slope gentled ever so slightly, maybe to 45 degrees at the point but the snow was sticky. My downhill ski stuck, the momentum pulled me over. I went ass over teakettle down the slope, upside down, thinking that people break legs or even die falling like this (sorry Mom). Therefore I must stop. Amazing how much time you have to think when you're falling. So I flipped myself over (yes, my pack is on my back) and flipped again so that I was on my belly and head facing uphill. Then I stopped. Skis and poles were uphill and downhill from me. The audience, er, line of people climbing up the staircase to ski exactly what I had done were in silence until one voice asked if I was okay. Yes!
Randy was still above me. He had skied too far toward the staircase and was kind of stuck in a precarious position. As I started to climb back up the face to retrieve my stuff, a nice man on the staircase skied over, got my two poles and one ski and skied down to me. He was a past middle-aged fellow with a chew in his lower lip. When he handed me my skis he said that he's skied Tucks several times a year since 1984 and each time he puckered looking over The Lip until last year. His words were a little awkward but the message was very clear. It's a difficult, scary ski. There are many accidents, many with worse outcomes than I experienced but probably just as many with nary a scratch or pulled muscle (like me). Sure, I was over my head but gave it a shot with no consequences and some ideas how I would handle it in the future.
By then Randy had extricated himself from his dilemma and skied down to where my lower ski was. After asking me if I was alright he asked if I wanted to do it again. Yes, he was kidding. It was a scary ski even for him, who has far more experience and ability than I do. Been there done that. I put on my skis, unruffled my feathers and followed him down the Sherburne Trail.
We arrived back at the cabin, surprised to see some of the people who were there when we had a snack. They were surprised we had made it all the way to the top and back in a short hour. We had our picture taken in front of another sign at the patrol cabin. Unfortunately it's on Randy's camera then skied the rest of the way down. It's amazing how much melt can happen in an afternoon. The ski down was lumpy, bumpy, moguls with patches of dirt, weeds, and rocks to avoid. All this on a narrow cat track that fortunately wasn't terribly steep.
The rest of our time in New Hampshire was very relaxing. We had a liesurely schedule of rising at around 7:00, sitting around in our pj's drinking coffee and visiting with Aunt Gail while she knitted. George was often out and about already fulfilling his retirement obligations. I don't think he's my role model for retirement! We visited Grammy nearly every day. Gail and George spoiled us with lobster a couple times. And steak dinner for Randy's 40th. Grammy, cousin Melissa, cousin Aaron and his expectant partner joined us for Randy's passing into Geezerhood. It was a great week. I like New Hampshire a lot; it reminds me of where my sister lives in Wisconsin. It was very nice to get away from the busy-ness of the west coast for a while.
Here are the pictures.