No need for record breaking
2009-04-13 17:57:10.000 – Ali Boris, Summit Intern
Blue meets green with a splash of white
The big anniversary of our 231 mph wind gust has come and gone with no sign of breaking the record. Despite my disappointment in not experiencing a 232 mph wind, I’m honored to have been here for the historic day. Our volunteers, Sarah and Bill Young, made us a delicious cake last night, adorned with the numbers two, three, and one (I can hear Mike imitating the Count from Sesame Street as I type). Aside from gusts up to 86 miles per hour and some lovely snow flakes, the day was relatively quiet and our night was spent calling home to all our friends and family for the Easter holiday.
The freezing fog and wind of yesterday came sandwiched in between a few days of very nice weather. Saturday was warm, and a blue glow from the underside of the dark clouds overhead lit up the ridges of snow on the surrounding mountaintops. Sarah, Bill, and I went out for a hike down the Crawford Trail and over to Tuck’s to watch the skiing and snowboarding in the bowl. Even with gloomy forecasts, there were quite a few people taking in the day. With only a breath of wind, we could hear hollers and the cutting of edges as riders glided over the patches of ice and powder from Lion’s Head to the headwall.
Today has been gusty, but the blowing snow has resided and left us with a spectacular view in all directions. This morning was one of the handful on which I have been able to see the ocean as I walked out to shovel the main entrance of the building. As a native of the Oregon coast, I miss the sight of the vast and unending ocean. I haven’t yet been out to see it while I’ve been on this coast, but that comforting glimpse of it off in the distance reminds me that it’s close by.
As the sky begins to take on an orange hue to the west, I’m hoping that tomorrow will be the bright, blue day that’s been predicted. I’ve got my fingers crossed for a nice hike tomorrow before this shift is over. While I miss the beach and the green trees of home, I know that I’ll be missing the gentle hills and perfect color palettes of the White Mountains in a few months.
Ali Boris, Summit Intern