I've always been interested in history of all types, and in particular, aviation - planes, helicopters, and everything in between. When I was little (early 80s), I wrote a short poem about planes:
Planes, planes, in the sky
Leaving a trail as they go by
Sometime fat, sometimes thin
Nobody knows what's within
Off they go, without a trace
Maybe to land in a very strange place
During my six weeks on the summit as a volunteer, and two summer visits, I've seen very little in the sky, other than clouds, fog, and various forms of precipitation. It seems that insects, birds, and aircraft of all types generally avoid the summit, especially in the winter. Obviously, there are some very good reasons for this lack of airborne activity.
Let's take insects for example - in the winter, conditions are clearly inhospitable to insects - low temperatures, high winds, and lots of ice and snow. In the summer, things aren't much better - there is very little vegetation on the summit, limiting their options for a place to hide, and things to eat - and conditions are still relatively extreme when compared to lower elevations.
Birds have it a little better in the winter, but not much (at least they can fly away to somewhere nice). In the winter, they're also subjected to the same extreme conditions that the summit is known for, and because not much else lives here - animal or vegetable, there is very little food for them. Summer is somewhat better, in that the few animals that live here, and the few plants that grow here are active, and available to eat.
Though planes (and helicopters) are man-made objects, and are immune to the needs of living things, they are not immune to Mt. Washington's extreme conditions. There is certainly no room to land a plane here, but they too would be buffeted by the winds, and run a fearful risk of icing if they lingered over the summit during stormy times. Visibility is another factor - flying planes close to tall mountains, in low visibility, is never a good thing. Also, much of the time, it is impossible to land or hover a helicopter on the summit, due to the high winds and icing conditions.
Having said all that, as you know, there are exceptions to every rule. This week, I have seen one raven, one light plane, two fighter planes, and multiple high-flying jets. The raven's visit is easily explained - they are always scouting for food, especially in the winter. The light plane? Probably they had heard of the significant snowfall that we had recently, and were taking advantage of the clear weather to see it for themselves. And the fighters were almost certainly on a training flight, but it wouldn't surprise me if they were also checking out the snow conditions on the mountain, in anticipation of some skiing this weekend. Last, the high-flying jets - most likely commercial flights - bound for who knows where - but maybe to land in a very strange place.
The summit's weather is very local - a change in altitude of 50 or 100 feet can make a huge difference in the conditions that one experiences. Much of this week, we had low visibility, and high winds - birds and planes could have been flying high above us, or well below us during this time, but we'd never know - no way to see them because of the fog and blowing snow, and no way to hear them because of the roar and whistle of the wind. Luckily, we've also had a few days of clear weather.
We are truly isolated here on the summit in the winter, but it is a great opportunity to experience something different, and to help the Observatory. The weather and views are something that most people have never seen, the staff is friendly and knowledgeable, and the food is great! Where else can you have the experience of helping to shovel an 8' high snow drift in below freezing temperatures, and high winds, all at a height of 6,288 feet?!? If you'd like to see all of this for yourself, and help the Observatory in the process, consider volunteering.
Spending a week on the summit of Mt. Washington in winter is a experience that very few people have had, and that a very small number of people ever will have.
Ed O'Malley – Summit Volunteer
I love snow. I love to watch it fall and I love to shovel it. I especially love snow because I know I will have to shovel it. The more it snows, the more I have to shovel...it's a happy parallel. Growing up in Wisconsin, my dad let me do all the shoveling. As a young boy, before I was allowed to use the gas mower in the summer, snow shoveling was a 'big boy' thing to do...it made me feel proud to help my family and neighbors by completing a useful task.
I have never figured out why anyone wouldn't like to shovel snow. I admit: It is very hard work. It is hard on the back. It actually sends a lot of people to the chiropractor each winter. It is also hard on the shoulders. They tire easier than you would think. And many cardiologists become very busy during the snow shoveling months. The good news is that 15 minutes of snow shoveling counts as moderate physical activity according to the 1996 Surgeon General's Report on Physical Activity and Health. I find shoveling to be mentally relaxing and very rewarding. You're presented with a clear set of objectives (snow from point A to point B) and there are clear parameters for success...when the snow is cleared...you've succeeded!
Since moving to the Mid-Atlantic - first Virginia, and now Maryland, I haven't been able to exercise my snow shoveling passions as much I would desire. If you lived near me in either of those states, you benefited from my snow removal obsession. I was (and still am) 'that guy' that gets up at the crack of dawn to shovel my walks and the sidewalks and stairs of all my neighbors. Imagine my joy this year when the greater Washington, DC area received a historic amount of snow! I was in a high state of shovel euphoria!
My excitement peaked the other morning when, on the summit, we were presented with a monumental snow drift at the main entrance of the Sherman Adams Building...it was one of the largest I have ever seen! Given that we had high east winds combined with 17 inches of snow...well, we had a really, really nice drift! It took five of us nearly an hour to move the snow away from the entrance. Although I was exhausted at the end, I enjoyed every minute of the task.
I encourage all of you in snow country (and those of you in more temperate regions) to exercise your right to be passionate about snow and snow shoveling! Become a member of the Mount Washington Observatory, schedule a week on the summit as a volunteer, and you too might be able to be 'that guy' (or lady) who gets to shovel the really, really big drift!
John Bauhs – Summit Volunteer
Here is my very scientific meteorological evaluation of the weather pattern on Mount Washington for the last several
weeks:
Sunny, sunny, sunny, STORM, sunny, sunny, sunny, STORM
The 'storm' part of that pattern has fallen on my shift for a while now. In fact, the latest storm just began to move
out of the region this morning. Starting early Sunday morning and ending late this morning, we received over 17
inches of snow, all on moderate to strong east winds. Now last shift I wrote a lot about how uncommon east winds
are on the summit and how difficult they can be to deal with. Unfortunately my shift has seen more east winds than
any other direction lately. Just like the storm two weeks ago, we have had some pretty incredible drifting on the
summit, especially in front of the main entrance to the Sherman Adams State Park building.
Here are some pictures from today:
A wall of
snow
A very
interestingly shaped drift
The full size of
the drift, right before shoveling
A layered pic,
showing before and after (thanks to Ryan for this great photo)
You can check out more pictures from today on the Observatory's page on Facebook. Also, head on over to our YouTube site to check out two really neat
videos from today: one of the drift forming, and one of us shoveling it!
Brian Clark – Observer and Meteorologist
March 14th has a few things going for it. If you live in the northeast, you are either cleaning up or experiencing a fairly strong Nor'easter that is moving up along the coast from the Mid-Atlantic. This storm brought a large bought of rain to everyone except for the elevations above 3000 feet. The deluge of rain meant flooding for some or the lost of snow packs for others. And along with the torrential rains, high winds brought downed trees damaging cars, houses or anything else in their paths including power lines. So it might be a day or two until these affected regions will even be able to power up and read this comment. But there is hope as high pressure is expected to build in behind the exiting low returning sunny skies and warming temperatures for New England for the coming week.
March 14th for 2010 also marked daylight savings time to most of America. I say most because Arizona, Hawaii, the US Virgin Islands, Guam, American Samoa, Puerto Rico, and parts of other states don't recognize the jump. Oh, yeah, I almost forgot, parts of Mt. Washington don't recognize the change as well. The summit now has three time zones to mess around with. If you are visiting the living quarters of Mount Washington State Park, you are seeing clocks using Eastern Daylight Time (EDT). As soon as you cross the double doors to the Mount Washington Observatory, time jumps back an hour to Eastern Standard Time (EST). And when submitting observations, time jumps back four hours from EDT (EDT-4) to observe Greenwich Mean Time (GMT). We stay on EST to keep our weather forms and, as Mike said yesterday, our servers on one uniform time so we don't have to worry about gaps in recording our weather. GMT is used since it is the time standard used by weather observing stations and systems around the world to take the guess work out of time standards simplifying it for research purposes. It sounds confusing but most of us working here don't even bat an eye at the time differences.
March 14th also is known as Pi day to some since the date reads 3/14 or 3.14. But if you are extra nerdy (like me), just before the jump at 2 am for daylight savings on my watch, the calendar and clock read: 3/14 1:59:26, or the first eight digits of Pi: 3.1415926. Now, I am going to really nerd out. Imagine if it were 1592 at 6:53:58, then it all would have come together to create the first 12 digits of Pi: 3/14/1592 6:53:58 or 3.14159265358. But looking at how far we have come since 1592, I think that would be the only highlight for me to be living in that time period.
Lastly, March 14th is the date marking the birthdays of a few people. The most well known is Albert Einstein who contributed greatly to the field of physics. And since meteorology has a large connection to the field of phsyics, most of us weather nerds studied one or two of his findings on the road to get our degrees. But other famous names that are tied to this date with their birthdates are Michael Caine (The Cider House Rules, etc), Billy Crystal (SNL, etc), and Taylor Hanson ("Mmmbop" anyone?). And lastly, two people working at the observatory share this date for a birth date. The first is Cara Rudio from our valley staff who, like most valley staffers, is like a Swiss Army Knife of job rolls for us. And lastly, as much as I hate making this public knowledge, I am turning another year older today. We aren't planning much though since we celebrated Friday before our intern Nick headed down for a bit of vacation time. So there you have it, the day that is March 14th; a date that brought a storm, a day for clean up, a time change, a day to celebrate pi, and a few birthdays.
PS - The thumbnail picture is of 13 nails balance on the head of one nail. I thought it looked cooler than my other option showing the weather radar, the clocks, the symbol Pi and a calendar of March marking the B-days. Instead, I went with the "13 on 1" picture I took since together there are 14 nails for the 14th day, it is a lesson on physics (where I first was presented with this puzzle) for Einstein's B-day, Pi because each nail is round and that's what Pi is all about, the people weathering the current storm in the northeast are tough as nails, and to get this balanced with an edited picture took time. But you can interpret the work of art however you see fit, that's the beauty of it.
Ryan Knapp – Staff Meteorologist
With any luck, life here as the IT observer will be much the same tomorrow as it has been today; I will make progress on the programs I am working on, the programs that have been written will continue to work, and the servers will run with a constant hum, not punctuated by a reboot. I'm not sure this will be the case though, as tomorrow comes the scary time when the valley switches to Eastern Daylight Time (EDT) and the summit remains on Eastern Standard Time (EST). The summit does not changeover for daylight savings because there would be erroneous data in the database. In the spring, there would be a missing hour and in fall the data prior to the hour of the changeover would be overwritten. In the past, we have located bugs in the various programs and fixed them, but somehow it seems there is always one that was missed or a new one mistakenly introduced. I feel Steve and I have been quite vigilant in fixing these problems in old programs as we find them and have been careful to set the date appropriately in programs written since last fall, but I'll have to wait until tomorrow to see just how true that is.
Mike Finnegan – IT Observer
Yesterday I was asked to hike down the Cog track and check out a few locations for new mesonet sites. I couldn't have asked for a better day to take that trek. I started out skiing out of the front entrance of the observatory and then headed north down along the track.
The wind was only blowing about 25MPH, it was 25 degrees out, and the sun was shining so brightly that by the end of the day my nose and cheeks were nice and rosy.
I saw 4 different groups of hikers during my trip, all of them either skinning up or hiking with snowboards on their backs. Everyone I spoke with was as excited as I was about the warm weather and the prospect of the trip back down.
On my hike back up to the summit I was able to layer down to a wicking t-shirt and some sun glasses.
Everyone seems to be excited about the idea of spring and along with it spring skiing, but remember the mountain is a dynamic place where changes can take place by the hour. If you're thinking about coming up for an adventure of your own this spring be sure to check the weather first, as well as the Forrest Services' avalanche report. Have Fun!
Nick Lovejoy – Summit Intern
During my week off that just ended yesterday, temperatures soared into the 50's in the valley with plenty of sunshine. My time skiing and working at Attitash were spent wearing a light fleece jacket and at times, even just a vest. I even saw people out on road bikes on route 302. All signs that old man winter is starting to slowly lose his grip in the valley. As we would expect, here on the summit winter continues. Temperatures haven't risen above freezing and when we arrived yesterday, temperatures were in the teens with a brisk 20-30 mph breeze blowing. Of course this is rather calm and mild on the mountain, even for this time of year, but that didn't keep it from being a bit of shock to my body after such mild weather in the valley.
With winter just starting to wind down so does our winter EduTrip program. There are only 5 trips left this season and several of those are already completely full. One upcoming trip that does still have space left on it also happens to be a topic and concept that is brand new (and very exciting, in my opinion) for this season: cooking. Chef John Bauhs, a frequent summit volunteer for several years now and a professional chef will lead an EduTrip on March 18 and 19 entitled 'Alpine Culinary: The Challenges of High Altitudes and High Attitudes in the Kitchen'.
Having now spent seven shifts with Chef John as a volunteer, I can certainly speak from experience when I say that he is an awesome chef, a great teacher, and an all around fun guy to be around. I have no doubt that his EduTrip is going to be a blast for the participants. So, if you want more information on the details of this trip, or if you want to purchase tickets, click here. Don't wait, because just like any EduTrip space is limited and you won't want to miss out on this one!
Brian Clark – Observer and Meteorologist
As a former science teacher, my greatest interests when spending time on the summit are the various science applications.
There's the wind thing going on all the time. After taking ski trips to Utah, Colorado, Montana, and assorted New England areas, I have become impressed with the amount of wind we see in New England and have become used to the frequent wind scoured ice slopes when skiing. I've skied during storms in other locations and not seen as much wind as on a clear day in New England. We apparently live at the confluence of continental air streams. Even calm days see more wind than the average terrain.
When I arrived at the summit last Wednesday, there was relatively calm air and the remnants of the snow storms from the week before. With clear skies, the mountain became a playground for hikers and skiers. The snow fields were like enormous packed powder bowls. Then the wind came. Several days of 50 to 85 mph winds have scoured the mountain and revealed the ice plates underneath. The snow has been repacked onto the lower elevations and formed drifts on the road and in front of our doors. The snow cats were turned back in their attempts to come up the past 2 days. The drifts and blowing snow were too much for them. The wind is now dropping to the 40's. The road will probably be open again soon.
This past weekend we had several clear sunrises and sunsets. The discussion here turned to the conditions necessary to produce the green flash. We learned a lot about geometric optics and light scattering in the lower atmosphere.
The state park has a new sewage treatment system developed for use in the arctic. I talked with the state workers at length about the mechanics and biology of the system. It seems to be working great, and it's nice to be able to shower occasionally.
I find all of these fascinating. The crew here indulges my questions, making it fun to spend time here. Steve, Mike, Stacey, and Drew are a great group.
Ernie, the chef, was also here this week. He has been very patient with me and did a great job of teaching me his various cooking secrets. Truffles and Black Forest Cake bring a certain level of civility to the summit.
This week also had a variety of visitors. Eight meteorology students and faculty from Germany were here when we arrived. Then the Friends of Tuckerman group came up for some hiking and skiing. Them a ten person Edutrip arrived for mountaineering instruction. We're now waiting the arrival of a group of 11 climbers also planning to overnight. The guest all have interesting stories to add to the experience.
So it's been a fun week for me and a fascinating experience. I'm leaving with a great collection of pictures of rime ice, sunsets, and white peaks and a collection of unique memories. I hope to be back.
Tom Soisson – Summit Volunteer
Our shift remains the good weather shift. Here's a comparison of some statistics of this shift week (3/3 - 3/9) vs. the other crew's last shift week (2/24 - 3/3). As a precedent, I attributed Wednesday's stats to the up-coming crew of the day. There is a bit of a flaw in that our shift is not concluded until tomorrow, but glancing at the forecast for both today and tomorrow, I'm sure most of our stats will not change (with the exception of an increase in sunshine minutes).
Peak Gust:
Them: 132 mph
Us: 85 mph
Days with a peak gust in excess of 73 mph (hurricane force):
Them: 3
Us: 1
Snowfall:
Them: 41.0 inches
Us: 0.3 inches
Liquid Equivalent Precipitation:
Them: 7.45 inches
Us: 0.02 inches
Total Duration of Precipitation:
Them: 113 hours 50 minutes
Us: 5 hours 55 minutes
Total sunshine minutes:
Them: 1072 (almost 18 hours)
Us: 1976 (almost 33 hours)
Snowpack:
When the other crew arrived on February 24th, our snow depth reported at 6 a.m. that morning was 19 inches.
When our shift arrived on March 3rd, the snow depth reported at 6 a.m. that morning was 36 inches - an increase of 17 inches.
As of 7 p.m. last night (March 8th), the snow pack has diminished to 26 inches - a decrease of 10 inches.
The main reason for the decrease in snow pack over this shift week is blowing snow. We have witnessed an incredible amount of blowing snow over the past 6 days. Winds were primarily out of the north/northeast for the first three days, which blew all of the snow that direction. Since Saturday, winds have shifted back towards the more proverbial west/northwest direction, blowing much of the snow back the other way.
Where has it all gone? Besides the ravines below, much of it has ended up in large drifts on the auto road. There have been several failed attempts by our snow tractor to get to the summit over the past couple of days due to massive drifting and ground blizzard conditions beginning at the 4-mile stretch. Although conditions will be clearer tomorrow, northwest winds will linger in the 35-50 mph range on the summit, and there is still ample snow for fodder. This has us all worried, because shift-change Wednesday is fast approaching, and we are all itching to descend to the valley. The saving grace is that Wednesday looks even tamer, with winds most likely in the 15-30 mph range atop the summit under sunny skies. But if the tractor still cannot make it through the drifts, it looks like we'll be hoofin' it down!
Mike Carmon – Staff Meteorologist
A couple of weeks ago I wrote about my whirlwind romance with Mount Washington. In my studies, I found the subject of optics and light to be fascinating. There is no shortage of optical phenomena from the summit of Mount Washington. From my first mountain shadow to this morning's sunrise, I am consistently amazed by the display of color and light.
Clouds are especially exciting, and not just because we're in them so often. Clouds are nature's forecasters. The type of clouds in the sky can tell the seasoned observer the state of the atmosphere. This comment isn't about that. It's about the fun part of clouds. A long, long time ago, an intern by the name of Ted Letcher (yup, I remember you!) wrote about nephelococcygia, which is the act of seeking and finding shapes in clouds. Popular shapes spotted from the summit consist of flying saucers (a result of common lenticular clouds), cotton balls (for the unimaginative), castles, dragons, fish…you name it, and we've probably seen a cloud that looks like it. Today we saw some of the coolest looking clouds, ever. Thankfully, Drew had enough sense to grab the camera.
It looked like a new, small mountain range had grown in a matter of seconds, complete with lenticular clouds spreading smoothly across the tops. Now we're in the fog, which will last through the night as a weak cold front plunges south from Canada. Hopefully the clouds will lift from the mountain and provide a few more opportunities for us to practice nephelococcygia.
Stacey Kawecki – Observer and Meteorologist
This morning dawned with a wonderful sunrise and so far the day has continued to be sunny and warm although a little breezy at times. If you look carefully at the sunrise picture, which was taken from the observation deck, you should notice the lack of the guard rail. This is because it's completely buried under snow and rime ice - certainly the best accumulation I've seen up here in the past three winters.
From late this morning we have also been seeing some really impressive Lenticular clouds to our south and east. Some even showed iridescence around the edges. Being able to see clouds and blue sky makes such a change from the usual gray fog!
Since it was so nice outside Drew and I decided to try and dig out the living room window this morning. After tunneling for ten feet or so through the snow drift we finally made it. The living area tends to be quite dark at the best of times and when the window is blocked it is permanent nighttime downstairs.
Oh no - just discovered that someone has eaten the last bar of chocolate left by the German students who were with us at the start of this shift. Now that's really put a damper on things.
Steve Welsh – IT Observer
I recently heard somebody refer to storms as ''tantrums of the atmosphere.'' Well, if
that's the case, then sign our shift up for a Parent of the Year Award (Those do exist,
right?), because the atmosphere up here has been anything but fussy. In fact, another high
pressure system has moved into the region, bringing with it impeccably sunny skies.
Stacey's out making turns on the East Snowfields, Steve's tanning in a lawn-chair on the
Obs Deck, and, well, the intern is inside digitizing old weather records.
The week hasn't been all sunny skies and digitizing, though. As some of the Observers
mentioned in previous comments, ''the Germans'' were up for a few days. As guests at the
home of the world's worst weather, the German's were banking on hurricane force winds,
white-out squalls, and heavy rime. Their trip, unfortunately, saw only gentle winds and
light fog-- well, they did have a couple of sunny days, but stating that would ruin my
''writing mechanism,'' so we'll overlook them. To spice things up a bit, they set to work
building a snow
cave. AWESOME. We spent a surprisingly warm night inside the igloo (pronounced: zie
Igloo, in good German fashion), and awoke to a beautiful foggy morning.
Sadly, the Germans left yesterday, and, before they did, they demolished
the snow cave. If you look carefully at that picture (click on ''demolished''), you'll
notice that it took a little more than brut force to tear that thing down. Leave it to
German engineering to design a snow fort that requires a several-ton snow tractor to
destroy it.
Well, I think I've talked (typed?) your ears (eyeballs?) off enough for one day. Time to
catch the crystal-clear sunset.
Drew Hill – Summit Intern
Jinxed, cursed, hexed, ill-fated, star-crossed, condemned, doomed. Whichever word you choose to use will likely accurately describe how Andreas, the professor from Ruhr University in Bochum, Germany must feel. After last winter's ridiculous fiasco (German's stranded on top of Mount Washington!), he is most likely becoming used to adversity when it comes to summit trips. To refresh your memory, last year towards the end of February, the summit received about two feet of snow in about two days. There were multiple failed attempts by snow tractors and operators to summit thanks to ridiculous drifting and ground blizzards. Half of the students ended up being 'stranded' on the summit for an additional four and a half days (Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday), complete with expensive flight changes, logistical complications, and a general feeling of anxiety.
Fast forward to today. Usually each crew gets three or four days with the German students. However, due to this year's particular schedule, they were slotted to leave this afternoon. Before they left, Andreas expressed regret that he and his group would have to leave so early. He continued to conspire with me, 'maybe the snow tractor will not make it up, and we can spend another day or two?'
Well, Andreas, all I have to say to you is you are either prophetic or flat-out unlucky. Turns out, there was a minor hitch, a break in the flow, in today's plans. One of the hydraulic hoses broke and was leaking fluid, immobilizing the snow tractor and all of its passengers in the vicinity of Cow Pasture. Instead of the snow tractor not making it to the summit, it failed to make it to the base of the Auto Road. It is stranded until tomorrow. Luckily, everyone was able to make it down the mountain, with the help of State Park.
Maybe the mountain was using its mystical powers in an attempt to keep the Germans on the summit. It wouldn't be the first time, and it probably will not be the last.
Stacey Kawecki – Observer and Meteorologist
This was my first winter volunteer shift, and had the opportunity to experience the power of sustained winds of 100 mph with gusts of 132.4 mph. The ride to the summit on Thursday was an adventure in itself with Mike Finnegan, Observer, and Wayne, the Smooth Operator, taking turns guiding the snow cat through the zero visibility. Once we were at the summit, it was a quick turn-around for the 4-hour return trip.
The first light-of-day was Sunday's sunrise, and that was an epic day for Paul skiing with Brian Clark, Observer, Mike (boarding), and Nick Lovejoy, Intern, and me hanging out at the newly-claimed lunch rocks taking photographs and videos.
Along with the pristine day, the group of German students and their professor, Andreas, and assistant, Michael, from Ruhr-Universitat Bochum arrived after a 6 hour trip to the summit.
Paul and I kept busy cooking and cleaning, and receiving multiple compliments for the meals, and especially, the desserts. Paul was the official breakfast cook, and I provided most of the desserts, of course. The kitchen was also a flurry of discussion about the scientific research. The students were busy gathering supplies for their tests of freezing and melting, sharing about the lack of rime build-up, and finding their own digestive limits.
I did take advantage of a 4-hour hike with 5 of the Germans learning along the way about the rime formations, and the accumulated snow and drifting.
Before we depart, we will be sure to peek into the igloo that 2 of the students dug-out.
Until another volunteer trip,
Althea Goundrey – Summit Volunteer
Generally speaking, the summit crew is always pretty anxious to get down the mountain on the Wednesday after spending a week on top. Don't get me wrong, all of us love the mountain and feel very lucky to be here for a week at a time, but we also work very hard while we are here. In a typical 8 day shift we put in at least 80 hours of work but often more towards 90 or even 100 hours on very busy weeks. This alone makes the prospect of 6 full days off very exciting.
The work we do can be difficult in different ways. Some weeks, the workload can be mentally taxing. For example, in the summer time there can be an incredible amount of tours given during one shift. Some weeks the work is physically taxing. This past shift was definitely one of those weeks.
First of all, working an unusual midnight to noon shift as I have this week is always a little difficult to deal with. I enjoy the change of pace, but this is definitely not a shift that I could do every week. Going back and forth between a 'normal' sleep pattern while in the valley and the sleep pattern I have been on all week here would just be too much.
Then there has been the weather. All of us on the summit live for the extreme weather; that's what why we're here. Typically, a severe storm lasts for a day, maybe stretching into two. This shift saw continuous snow and moderate to high winds from when we arrived on Wednesday until early Sunday morning, 5 days. This meant an inordinate amount of shoveling snow from in front of emergency exits, battling the weather just to get the data necessary for our observations, and of course deicing. Ahhh, the deicing. I'm sure you can imagine that getting into the tower with 100+ mph winds is not easy, but even after several years I am still surprised at how much of a toll just a few minutes in the tower with winds sustained over 100 mph takes on one's body. For about 3 or 4 hours straight Thursday night into Friday morning, I was heading into the tower once an hour. Each time it would take me about 5 minutes to complete the task of climbing up, removing ice, and climbing back down. When I would then head back inside to record the data from the observation and send it to the NWS, my hands would be shaking, making it difficult to actually write down the data I just collected. By 3 a.m. on Friday, I felt like I had been beat up by the school yard bully.
The rewards for all this work have been great this week as well. Yesterday I described and showed the incredible day we had on Sunday. That few hours out on the mountain in and of itself was worth all the work we did this week. Today was also a very nice days, with decreasing winds through the day and quite a bit of sunshine as well.
In the end, it has just been another eventful week on the mountain. I'm very happy to say that even with several winters on the summit under my belt, that there is always something new and exciting to experience. Who knows what next shift will bring!
Brian Clark – Observer and Meteorologist
As Ryan wrote in his comment on Saturday, things have been a little 'different' this shift. He described how things have been different as far as work schedule goes, but the weather has also been very different this week in several ways.
First of all, it has snowed. A lot. Now this isn't something that is necessarily different from what is would normally like on Mount Washington this time of year, but it is certainly different than what it has been like on Mount Washington lately. Consider this: from January 1st to February 23rd (54 days) we measured only 33.0 inches of snow with no more than 3.6 inches falling in one day. That may seem like a lot of snow to most people, but keep in mind that in an average year, we would see upwards of 80-90 inches of snow in that same time period. Now consider this: from February 24 to February 28 (5 days, all on our shift) we measured 32.8 inches of snow. Pretty incredible.
Also very different this week was the wind direction. Typically our winds come from some sort of westerly direction (southwest, west, or northwest) and the Sherman Adams State Park building that we are housed in was certainly designed with that in mind. Throughout our current shift, the vast majority of the time was spent with winds coming from the east, putting all that snow in some unusual places. We had piles of snow inside the tower that had to be shoveled back outside, only to have it come back in again. We spent hours shoveling drifts up to 6 feet tall, several days in a row. We also had to deice our anemometer in 100+ sustained winds which is made even more difficult the by east winds.
The east winds also deposited a ton of snow in very unusual places around the mountain on a much larger scale. We were able to see this yesterday when snow stopped and fog cleared for the first time since Wednesday. Bright sunshine shone down on a beautiful undercast and wind speeds went below 10 mph. We (the summit crew) knew we had to take advantage and get out to explore a little bit. So, Nick, Mike, volunteers Paul and Althea Goundrey, and myself headed down the north side of the mountain towards the Great Gulf. We immediately found that there was a buttery smooth layer of powder on top of the feet upon feet that had been drifted earlier in the storm(s). In fact, the cog tracks had been buried by a giant snowfield! When we got down to the , we were all awestruck by how much snow there was. The gully that the Great Gulf trail resides in got completely filled in, all the way down to Spaulding Lake. The snow looked incredibly inviting, but none of us had any avalanche gear (beacons, probes, shovels, etc.) and we knew that avalanche danger was very elevated, so we made the decision to stick to some lower angle terrain.
We ended up taking three laps on a 100-150 vertical foot slope, literally a few hundred feet away from the Observatory. I have never seen this particular pitch filled in like this before. We were all smiles when we headed back to work. This was a great reward after 4 days of endless shoveling, deicing, and battling the severe weather and was also a reminder of how beautiful this place can be and how lucky we are to call it home!
One more thing. Head over to the Observatory's YouTube page to check out video from yesterday.
Brian Clark – Observer and Meteorologist
15:03 Thu Mar 18th
As I was driving to work yesterday morning, through Danville on Rt. 2 on a particularly elevated portion of the road, I not-so-quietly cursed at myself. Rather, I cursed my forgetfulness. I forgot my camera this week. Back in Montpelier, I realized my folly, but turning back would have added at least an hour to my trip and was not an option. By the time I was riding through Danville, I smacked the steering wheel a bit harder than it deserved, out of pure frustration. Since I don't have a picture to show you, I'm going to attempt to paint it with words. Hopefully it won't take 1000.
Visibility was very high, and the White Mountains were perfect dark shadows, sharply silhouetted against the sky. No clouds, and just a perfect blend of colors. Orange and red upon the horizon bled into the deep blue night sky. It was an absolutely breath-taking view; the kind that inspires artists to pick up a paint brush or pastels or a camera. On the bright side, that image is not one I will soon forget. The fact that I couldn't take a picture (well, I could have used my phone, but that just isn't good enough) made me really absorb the experience, and appreciate what I was seeing with my eyes, and not through a 3" LCD screen.
So, apologies for no actual picture, but hopefully your mind's eye can recreate the scene I've textually painted. Next time, I'll remember my camera.
Stacey Kawecki – Observer and Meteorologist