Raven
Well-known member
This is a few weeks back now, but it was a rare day to be above treeline, so I thought I'd post a few of the pictures. My favorite days in the Presis aren't necessarily the ones with the 100 mile views. It's such a dynamic place to experience weather that I sometimes really love the unsettled days (relatively dry ones preferably). I started out on the Tuckerman Ravine Trail relatively early in the morning in a heavy fleece and rain pants with light-weight tights. It was "chilly" but only if you stood around. Once moving, temps were perfect. The trail was rocky and damp through the first part of the climb; gradually snow began to fill the gaps between rocks. I was still wearing my waterproof low hikers, probably for the last time this season. I turned off on the Lions Head summer route and started the more serious climb. The snow and ice were still managebale without traction to this point, although to be fair, I passed others putting it on along Tux. It was one of those days it can go either way depending on your preference. I passed a nice "ice sculpture" (attached pic) that had been a flow path off a boulder, but had melted away from the rock and now bore the likeness of a whale fin; it was now only supported from the base. On coming out above the trees on Lions Head, the energy of the surroundings simply filled me. The clouds were thick and low, filling the ravines and valley below to an elevation around 4000'. Above this it was clear; the views were simply stunning. The summit ridge of Wildcat just peeked through the white. Tuckermans Ravine was filled with opaque puffy whiteness (attached pics), peridodically lit up by the sun which popped through temporary holes in the higher clouds above. I put on microspikes for a few small snowfields I had to climb heading toward the summit cone, but once there, I put them back in the bag again. There were plenty of exposed rocks and I was hearing too much metal on granite. The views to the southern Presidentials and Monroe in particular looked like an Ansel Adams dream (attached pic). I found a few other people were on the summit. It was nice for November: maybe in the twenties with a light breeze. The forecast was for pretty cold wind chills, but this was a nice break in the day anyway. After some pleasant talk with another hiker, I moved on over the summit and headed down toward Lakes of the Clouds where a few more people had gathered. I kept going on up Monroe; this has always been a favorite of mine. I really like the kind of "cresting wave" summit ridge it has. I know there's a geological term for the particular formation but have no recollection of what it is. Microspikes came back for the summit climb, probably the "sketchiest" of any few hundred feet in the course of the day. It's a short ascent, but definitely takes some careful foot placement. By this time, I was starting to feel some of the fatigue and knew water was getting low, so I headed back to the hut and out toward Boott Spur on the Camel trail among others. The cairns were covered in rime ice, always a beautiful sight, and the snow got deep in patches for the first time all day. I dropped up to my knees in a few postholes where snow had drifted into a depression, just a small taste of what's soon to come. I headed out and down the Boott Spur Trail, definitely feeling the slog at times. It had been a good, long day, and I had taken my time to really absorb it. The mountains have always been special to me, as they are to anyone probably reading these reports. The Whites have been a place where I've extended myself physically and expanded spiritually. They have truly been a sacred place for me through some challenging paths I've had to take in my life. This was a day that, close to the surface, I felt the absolute, pure gratitude and fortune for the experiences I've had in these mountains and for this range in particular. These moutains are truly a magical place.
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