How to Ski Uphill!
Today I skied up the Tuckerman Ravine trail on Mount Washington, to Hermit Lake and down the John Sherburne ski trail. Actually, to be precise, I "skinned" up the Tuckerman Ravine trail. Skinning also known as Ski Touring, is how back-country skiers move when not going downhill and it involves attaching a climbing skin to the bottom of our skis. When the skins are attached to the bottom of the skis, the fibers in contact with the snow lay flat when moving forward allowing for easy forward movement. Alternatively, when sliding backwards, the snow pushes against the direction of the fibers causing the skins to dig into the snow and hold the skier in place.
The binding is different too. In my case, I'm using a special back-country specific binding that has two modes: one for touring, and one for skiing downhill. In the touring mode, only the toe of the boot is connected allowing the boot to pivot as you slide your skis forward. In the downhill mode, the entire boot is clamped down like traditional alpine ski bindings.
John Sherburne Ski Trail from Jeff Fongemie on Vimeo.
Ski touring is a fantastic way to get around in the winter back country. The skis act like snowshoes providing float when needed, and by simply
shuffling your skis forward you never pick your ski up off the ground. The movement is very efficient, much easier and way more fun than carrying skis on your back. When the time comes to go down, just peel off the skins and stow them in your pack, put on a puffy jacket, your helmet, click into the ski bindings and ski down as normal.
Enjoy your turns!
- Jeff
New England Winter - "The Good, Bad and The Ugly"
One of the incredible parts of living in New England is you experience all four seasons in their fullest expressions.
Let me be clear, it isn't all glory, there are times when this is down right miserable. Seriously, don't try to go rock climbing, heck do anything other then sit in the river on a scorching summer day in Northern New Hampshire. If you brave a visit in June, especially after a rainy May, be prepare to be devoured by black flies. And trust me you have never felt the roar of Old Man Winter until you have ridden the Wildcat Mountain lift when the temps are hovering in the single digits and the wind is howling. The extreme weather in New England can also be a gateway to injury. This magnificent environment takes a body that can perform at its best. Just an achy knee or ankle can stand in the way of reaching the peak of a mountain.
Now that I have fully warned you about the risks and absolved myself of being the scapegoat for seasonal adventures gone wrong…the good stuff.
Every once in a while you find yourself in a magical moment around here. One of those pinch yourself, this is what happens in the movies moments. You reach for your cell phone camera and realize there is no way you capture the beauty of this moment so instead you stand in humble gratitude for the magnificence around you.
This has been the winter of bitter cold, freezing rain and less then ideal winter conditions (bringing all the aches out!) and yet those moments prevail. By just adding a compression wrap to any part of your body that needs a little help, you don’t have to miss out on the magical moments New England offers.
Standing in the fields below Mount Washington (a golf course in the summer), I am alone on acres upon acres of frozen ground. The sun sets to the West, the mountain glows to the North, the summit calm for a moment. The stillness is palpable. I pause and realize that I am the only person witnessing this moment, in this way, then, the wind shifts and the groomed course beckons me to ski on.
Rescue Mission On Top Of Mount Washington
24 hours ago, the phone by my bed rings at 11:30pm and I don’t need to pick it up to know who’s calling. I grab the phone and listen: “This is the Mountain Rescue Service and we’ve been asked to search for a lost hiker on Mt. Washington…” Just two short weeks ago I was in the Caribbean, enjoying 85 degree sunshine, and tomorrow I’ll be spending the day above tree-line on Mt. Washington, home of the World’s Worst Weather for a rescue mission. I set my alarm, spend the next 30 minutes making a mental checklist of the gear I’ll need, and try to sleep.
In the morning, well before the sun rises, I’ve stuffed my pack with two pairs of gloves, an expedition down parka, insulated over pants, a light-weight sleeping bag, puffy jacket, thermos of tea, and some energy bars. This is in addition to the map, compass, GPS, headlamp, tool kit, climbing harness and shovel which I normally keep in my pack. On the outside of my pack I’ve got my crampons and one Ice ax which will allow me to safely travel on any terrain on the mountain. I don’t know exactly where on the mountain I’ll be, or even how long I’ll be out, so I need to be prepared for anything, yet can’t be encumbered by too much gear. With insulated mountaineering boots, and good gloves, I just need to keep my core warm and protect exposed skin from the wind. Everyone on my team has many years of experience in these conditions, so I don’t need to worry about my team mates, though we routinely check each other’s face for signs of frostbite. When patches of skin turn grey, a few minutes of protection from the wind under a hood or warm hand can reverse the freezing.
As expected it was cold! Temperatures on the summit hovered around 0ºF with an average wind speed of 40 m.p.h. and sunny, clear conditions. Clear weather on Mt. Washington is rare in the winter. My team searched the south west side of the mountain starting at the summit. We found a single set of tracks in the snow leading down into Oak’s Gulf which the helicopter confirmed continued down into an area called Dry River, a notoriously difficult area to travel due to water crossings, deep snow, and lack of a good trail. A team was dispatched into the area from the top, and also from the road, but in the end the lost hiker walked out of the woods on his own 36 hours after he started with no injuries. It’s a good day when everyone, including the lost hiker gets to go home and sleep in a warm bed.
Learn more about the Mountain Rescue Service: http://www.nhmrs.org/
Peace in Motion, Peace of Mind
It’s something every day. Maybe it’s a trail run, a few hours of rock climbing or a road bike ride. Maybe it’s a hike, or if there’s snow on the ground a ski. If the weather is bad enough yoga, a workout targeting opposing muscle groups or a visit to an indoor climbing wall will do.
It isn’t an addiction exactly. It’s more just motion, constant motion. An object in motion tends to stay in motion. When it stops, the game is over. The point, then, is to stay in motion, to never let the ball hit the floor.
Even rest days are filled with the same energy, move at the same speed. They are a deliberate absence of motion, an exercise vacuum, every bit as intentional as the workouts. They serve as the counterpoint, the exhalation that follows exertion.
The rest feels good, but the burn feels better. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the legs, the lungs, the forearms or the fingertips — the pain is the prize. So is the euphoria that follows as it subsides.
It isn’t an addiction, but it is destructive. With every step, every pedal stroke, doubts are set ablaze. The word CAN’T gets whittled to sawdust, replaced by footprints that scream “DID.” With every passing mile, every turn of the ski, every move skyward, the impossible melts away, wiped clean by the movement, and by those who find peace in it.
Every day is something. Inhale, exhale, and stay in motion. And leave a trail that echos.