Month 34: Tuckerman Ravine, NH
Growing up in New Hampshire,
it had always been on my lifetime bucket list to ski Tuckerman Ravine. To give you a visual, Tuckerman is on the backside of the largest peak in the Northeast, Mount Washington, topping out at 6,288’. Tucks is a giant bowl that has a rim at the height of 5,100’ with some angles as steep as 40-55 degrees.
The first time I saw Tucks, I was hiking with my 8th grade middle school class on an overnight backpacking trip. We had stayed in Lakes of the Clouds hut the night before, summited Mount Washington, then walked along the rim of the bowl. In June of that year, there was no snow on Tuckerman at all.
Since the ski streak had lived on in June by discovering a snowfield on the opposite aspect of Mount Washington, my guess was that there would still be some snow left inside Tucks. This year, I was lucky that some snow remained long after the calendar season was over. I was hoping it would be wide enough, solid enough, and safe enough to allow my ski streak to continue.
This summer I was blessed to make a like-minded friend
who luckily has some of the same passions as I do. When I shared with him that I wanted to keep my streak alive, he said he was game for anything. One week later, Jay and I set off for the Pinkham Notch Visitor Center where our trek would begin. With 55 lb packs on our backs full of water, snacks, and gear, we began our journey up the Tuckerman Ravine Trail. After about 4.5 miles, we came to a fork in the road. Not a figurative one; a literal one. Part of the upper Tuckerman trail had been closed due to snowmelt and high waters which meant that we wouldn’t be able to take our initial approach to the remaining snow at the base of the face. Instead, we would have to trek up around the side of the rim, taking the Lion’s Head trail. Approaching the snow from above, we would have to descend down into the bowl.
We were on a mission to keep the streak alive, no matter the number of extra steps we had to take.
Hours later, with our heavy packs, we reached the summit of Lion’s Head. The visibility was so outstanding that day that we could see the windmills just over the border of Vermont. Mother Nature had blessed us. The conditions and visibility were fairly unlikely considering Mount Washington has some of the most inconsistent, extreme and intense weather in this region of the country.
It had been a long day so far. By the time we reached the top of Lion’s Head we still had to traverse across the bowl, descend down (about half a mile), put on our gear, get a few turns, take off our gear, and descend another ~4 miles back to the car. Wooof.
When in the outdoors and especially in the backcountry it is so important to not only leverage the wisdom of the group but also to take all individual intuitions and energy levels into consideration. Jay and I ate our snacks and discussed our next move. We decided that even after all of the hard work we just did, we needed to head back down the trail. There would be no turns made that day.
At the end of the day, I thought to myself, How am I going to make this work? Is this the end of the streak? Do I need to start over at the beginning of next season? No. There’s gotta be a way to access the snow.
Two days later, I returned to the Tuckerman Ravine trail. This time, I traveled solo. There had to be a way. People on the Northeast Backcountry Skiing Facebook page were doing it, so why couldn’t I?
I thought to myself,
let’s just go up there and I’ll figure it out. The streak must go on.
Not yet recovered from the 55lb pack and 10+ mile hike two days before; I walked, I stepped, I trekked.
As I got to the same fork in the road, I realized that Jay and I were given incorrect information about the trail closure. The upper aspect that was closed was above the snow, therefore not impacting our approach. *face palm*. Jay was going to be so bummed about that.
I continued up the trail.
As I got closer to the snow, I felt light begin to creep into my heart. This deep sense of excitement that I was about to ski! In July! At a place that was on my lifetime bucket list!
Once the snow came into sight, I watched 3 people ski down. I felt the rush of excitement wash over me. When day hikers see a young woman with skis on her back during the offseason they always seem very surprised or impressed. They always ask “are you going to ski up there?” or “is there enough snow to actually ski?”. Sometimes I joke and say I am carrying the skis for fun, other times I tell them about my streak. When I saw other die-hards up there, I felt a level of stoke and connectedness that doesn’t happen often – especially during the summer months.
It was apparent that the snow was quickly receding up the slope.
The glacier was melting from the underside up, slowly hollowing out, creating a stream below. At the base it almost looked as if the snow was lying perfectly against the slope, resting from a long winter in the White Mountains. Although she was melting, dirty, and firm- she was welcoming. Almost as if she had held on just for me.
When I arrived at the edge of the snow, the three skiers had just finished a lap. I later found out that one of them had a ski streak too! He was 15 years old and was on month 10. What a badass. That lit me up.
The Tuckerman trail went right along the edge of the snow, so I didn’t have to boot back up the slippery 40* slope. I felt so relieved. The tricky part about hiking up with skis on your back is that because the bottoms are near the back of your knees, they can catch on trees and scrape against rocks. So slow and steady is key. There’s no rush anyways, Tuck had already stuck around long enough for me.
The top of the slope looked like an old snowbank-
you know the ones that sit in parking lots that are tall and dirty? That hang around for a long time and are hard as rock? Yeah, that.
I put on my boots and began to chip away into the bank to create some footholds to then climb over the top of the bank and stand on the edge. To slowly put my skis down and clip in.
The important part of this descent was to ski in the center of the slope. The snow was melting from the bottom up and the outside in. The thickest part of the white ribbon was in the center. Again, slow and steady. You may think, Tori, how can you go slow and steady if you’re so stoked to check off not only the 34th month but also a life bucket list item?! Well, you see, when there is a rock field at the bottom of the snow- you’ve gotta take it slow. I’d rather be slow and safe, then reckless and have to get rescued.
Up at the top of the slope, the top layer of snow was soft- sweet!
Easy spring turns. Quickly I realized that the further down I skied, the harder the snowpack got. As I glided down Tuckerman in shorts and a tank top, I got in a whole 12 turns. Yup, you read that right. After 1 day of 10+ miles and 1 day of 4.5 miles, I got 12 whole turns.
Some people think I’m crazy, absolutely insane. But you know what? When you’re in love, you go the distance. You put in the miles. You show up in a way that a lot of people don’t.
The mountains open me up, they nurture my heart. Skiing fills me all the way up. So I go the distance, even if it’s only for a dozen turns.
Month 34 of this streak taught me that it’s about the journey and not the destination.
That sometimes it’s not easy and you don’t always get it the first time around. That it’s okay to try a few times before you get the reward. To hold patience and compassion for yourself as external conditions and factors, can impact your journey. It is easy to get frustrated by obstacles, but they are there to teach us, to reveal a lesson or opportunity for growth.
Thank you, Tuckerman, for holding on until July 11 for me. One day I will return to you to ski you from top to bottom.
