White Mountains!

On Saturday my Space friend, Frank, and I took an expedition to New Hampshire and the infamous White Mountains. Frank is my “space friend” because he studies and loves space, not because he is from there. Although some think he does go there sometimes. The White Mountains are named thus because they are mostly covered with white aspen trees. It is home to Mount Washington, which brags the worst recorded weather on the planet! The fastest wind speed ever occurred here and toped 231 mph! And very frequently the temperature stays below -50 F for days on end. Obviously it is a relaxing and fun place to be.
After 4 hours of driving we finally arrived at one of the main lodges. The staff at the lodge was very friendly and helpful. They also quickly crushed our plans to summit Mt. Washington by telling us the temperature was -33 F and wind gusts to 100mph. The fellow could tell these conditions did not immediately deter us, so he went on to ask if we had crampons and ice axes. We of course did not, so without even a hint of a smile he said “well one wrong step, or slip and you will plummet several hundred or thousand feet to your death, but do what you like”. We bought a map and picked out a less “death trap” area for our exploring.
We were not really prepared or equipped for the deep snow and high wind conditions, but it did not hamper our spirits. We happily stomped into the wilderness following some cross country skiing trails. As long as we stayed on the packed trail we were fine. But occasionally a misguided step would lead to a plunge through the crust into waist deep powder. It was fantastic. Eventually the ski trail stopped going the direction we wanted to go so we had to forge ahead through the snow without a trail. At times the only way to move forward was to crawl to stay on top of the deep drifts. We saw a really spectacular waterfall. The water on the surface was frozen in a deep blue rolling wall, but the water behind it still flowed. Up stream we encountered evidence of a GIANT beaver. He had chewed halfway through a tree trunk three feet in diameter. The beaver himself was home sipping a hot toddy. This was a wise choice because a few moments after seeing his workshop the wind picked up and enveloped us in a freezing whiteout. It was exactly like being inside a snow globe just after a vigorous shake. We could not open our eyes but still stumbled forward, one hand guarding our faces, and one outstretched as if we were feeling for furniture in the dark. After about a hundred yards I made a frightening discovery. The wind subsided just enough for us to realize were stood in a clearing. And some further scanning showed we were in fact standing in the middle of a pond. Even with the conditions we had no idea how thick the ice would be. We back tracked and proceeded through the tree line on the perimeter.
Our hike ended back at the very hospitable lodge with some sandwiches and a few cups of hot coffee. We then made the reverse journey back to craziness that is Boston. Our ride home included a confusing conversation with a shop keeping about “what the hell a Wombat is?” and some political discussion in which my main argument was that Hillary and Barrack are secretly in love with each other. It was a refreshing daytrip. My perception of New England now feels more welcoming as I have found some real wilderness to escape to.