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[True Tales of Action and Adventure Continued Below The Fold...]

The high presidentials in the white mountains consist of mounts Madison, Adams, Jefferson & Washington. They are known for the harshest weather anywhere. One of my hiking buddys (Tim Finocchio) and I went up Madison on Thursday. We had the forecast from Mt. Washington Observatory that morning, so knew what was in store and brought the appropriate gear - but I've never experienced anything like it. The forecast was for steady 75-90mph winds with gusts over 100 (temperatures were expected to be rather mild, around 15°F, implying a wind chill of -16°F). In brief:

Holy fucking shit. That was the most CRAZY experience I have ever had in my life. The wind was ROARING at least 80mph, gusting higher. We got to Madison Hut (closed for winter and just at treeline but a good 500' or so below the summit) where we huddled in the protection of the structure at about 11am. We set off for the summit and were back by 12:30 and back at the car by 3pm. The hike up the summit was right at the peak wind speeds.

The summits of the high presi's are rock piles - there is no dirt to stand on and no trails so to speak - just scrambles over steep slopes with rocks ranging from dinner plate to house size. The footing is treacherous in good weather. There was only snow and ice in crevasses.

Because of the wind we were getting banged around, thrown against boulders and at times had to crawl on our hands and knees just to keep from getting thrown. Once I got slammed sideways and as I tried to stay standing (by shifting my weight and bracing) the gain in momentum due to leaning was enough to almost send me into space. We quickly mastered the technique of 4-wheeling like little spiders, and dropping fast instead of trying to brace when the gusts threatened to pick you up and smash you against a rock. It was a goddamn unrelenting freight train. At one point, I pulled myself headfirst over a little ledge into a hollow that was funneling enormous winds (I was hoping it had an eddy to catch a break but we had to cross it anyway). Tim pulled himself in behind me. We tried to communicate by pressing our heads together and screaming but it was nearly impossible to hear. The wind was causing huge pressure drops inside my hood and it was making my ears pop. We stowed our hiking poles in a hole in some rocks (they were flipping around in the wind and hard to control) and for a few seconds just sat there, basically pinned to the rocks with the freight train roaring around us. I remember thinking "holy fucking shit, I'm not sure I can make any forward motion...". It was like being caught in a fast river current, holding onto a tree-trunk and knowing that if you let go, you're fucked. It actually seemed possible that one could get trapped there. To get out of the gully, I had to roll over pull myself by my arms.

The 1/2 mile to the summit and back took more physical and psychological strength than any hour-and-a-half i've ever spent.... at least it seems in my memory to be the case.

It was too hard to take pictures (I managed to take one of my sleeve), but in one heroic 30 second interval, I braced myself at the summit of Madison and shot Adams and Washington w/ the wind (clouds) cranking across their summits).

I'm pretty sure I won't do that again, at least not with winds that high.... But I'm thrilled to have tried it once.