The wind howls, and we stir the pot

As I write at the kitchen table, a pulled pork lunch for 17 simmers in the crockpot and the wind shrieks above the stove vents.  That wind has been howling for the past four days, hitting a peak gust of 121 mph on Sunday, when the temperature dropped to -25 and the wind chill was a crazy -76. And we summit volunteers are loving it!

Standing on the summit, with the Observatory Tower in the background.  On the first couple of days, we saw many winter hikers at the summit, before the advent of  the high winds that made hiking very unsafe.

Standing on the summit, with the Observatory Tower in the background. On the first couple of days, we saw many winter hikers at the summit, before the advent of the high winds that made hiking very unsafe.

The possibility of extreme weather is one of the main reasons why I signed on for the eight-day volunteer stint in January.  I knew that extreme weather meant we wouldn’t do any real hiking, but I was okay with that, as I’m rusty on my winter hiking skills. I had the warm layers I needed to safely push myself into 100 mph winds, plus a pair of sneakers for indoor laps around the rotunda to get some exercise in between short jaunts outdoors.

 

During my stay on the mountain, I’ve been reading about the winter of 1870-71, when State Geologist Charles Hitchcock and Assistant Geologist Joshua Huntington, along with three other men, and several visitors, spent the first winter on Mount Washington.

This scientific expedition set up shop in a small room carved out of the depot for the just-completed cog railway.  They spent the winter doing weather observations, using some of the same instruments that the observers use today.  They communicated to the outside world via daily telegraphs and were constantly heading out in extreme weather to repair the telegraph line.

Winter on Mount Washington

During their first full-on winter storm, some time in December, the group spent a frightening night huddled around the coal stove, as they listened to the roar of the wind and wondered if their quarters would hold fast.  The building, which was held down with chains, withstood the wind, and gave the group faith that they would weather future storms. Glass panes might shatter and they might have to stay up much of the night keeping the stoves going, but they could enjoy listening to howling winds rather than fearing them.

Hitchcock, Huntington and their companions each wrote different sections of Winter on Mount Washington, the 1871 book describing the expedition.  The prose is dense, written in the leisurely 19th century style that can be tedious for modern readers.  But what strikes me as I read about their days on the mountain is how little the winter experience has changed.  Although the men lacked today’s comforts, they were perfectly cozy in their small quarters. They got up early and piled on their gear to watch the sunrise.  They watched the clouds float up over Jefferson and Adams.  They marveled at the sunsets over the Franconia Ridge.

In Chapter 11, “Life on the Summit,” Joshua Huntington wrote,

Most persons suppose that life on Mount Washington in winter must be gloomy, and gloomy enough it would be, at times, when the summit is enveloped in dense clouds for weeks, if it were not for the cheering click of the telegraph instrument.  They might suppose also that time would be extended indefinitely; that at night we should wish it was morning, and that in the morning we should long for night to come, and thus drag out a wear existence.  If the time of any persons in excellent health is wholly occupied in a pursuit that is congenial they are rarely gloomy, and are almost unconscious of the flight of time. But here, besides good health and time occupied, there is an excitement found nowhere else.”

“One gorgeous sunrise throwing a flood of light across a sea of clouds, one glorious sunset tingeing the clouds with crimson and gold, and the sun descends leaving the blush of day upon these snowy summits, or a storm unprecedented at lower elevations, infuse into our life enough that is grand and sublime to occupy the thoughts for weeks. With such surroundings, a person, on account of the intense excitement, may live too fast to have life extended to full three score years and ten; but there is a pleasure in it that would fully compensate for a few days cut off from the number to which life might be lengthened if passed in some quiet retreat, undisturbed by anything hat arouses the whole being, and carries the mind into ecstasies of delight. So days and weeks pass, and we are almost unconscious of the lapse of time.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

 

The Stage Building at sunset. This building, which serves as a depot for the Cog Railway, is a replica of the 1932 Observatory where the record wind was recorded.   The current Observatory building opened in 1980.

The Stage Building at sunset. This building, which serves as a depot for the Cog Railway, is a replica of the 1932 Observatory where the record wind was recorded. The current Observatory building opened in 1980.

My post here is reprint from my January 28, 2014 post on the MWOB “Observer Comments” blog.  Below, more photos from winter on Mount Washington.

Cat vs. Camel: An epic battle on Mount Washington provides an opportunity to write about Marty

 

Marty on his Mount Washington throne (photo by Brian Clark, a former MWOB observer).

Marty on his Mount Washington throne (photo by Brian Clark, a former MWOB observer).

Marty, the Mount Washington summit cat, has been an elusive animal this week, slipping in and out of the Observatory staff quarters only to eat and use the litter box.  Apparently he has a friend who stays in the State Park employee quarters, and that person is working this week, so Marty is spending much of his time next door, playing with a new toy, or maybe hiding from new summit volunteers.

I did manage to snap his photo after he one of the weather observers captured him yesterday for a brief appearance in an educational videoconference with a group of pre-school children.

Marty, the observers tell me, is extremely territorial, and defends his mountaintop kingdom against all other animals, especially dogs, who tend to slink away when confronted with his stare down and hiss.  He even beat up a camel, back in 2009, when Josh the camel walked up the eight miles up the Auto Road with his handlers to stake a claim on being the first camel to climb Mount Washington.  Marty didn’t hurt the camel, but in the showdown between the two, the camel backed off when confronted with Marty’s hiss and arched back.

As the camel settles in for a rest, Marty strides over to show it which mammal rules the mountain. (MWOB photo by Cara Rudio, July 8, 2009).

As the camel settles in for a rest, Marty strides over to show it which mammal rules the mountain. (MWOB photo by Cara Rudio, July 8, 2009).

Marty is the latest in a series of legendary summit cats at the Mount Washington Weather Observatory, going back to 1932, when the staff first brought in a stray cat to control the mice population.  Marty, a Maine Coon, came to the mountain in 2008, from the North Conway Humane Society, after winning the first-ever Mount Washington Mascot Primary.

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Marty racing past the precipitation can, which is used to measure the hourly precipitation on the mountain (Brian Clark photo).

Winter is tough on Marty. His playground is reduced from anywhere he wants to explore to the building that houses the Observatory and the State Park facilities. For an indoor cat,  this space is cavernous, with endless nooks and crannies to explore. For a mountain cat used to living free, the space, I imagine, feels cramped and claustrophobic.  Marty gets anxious and irritates his fur and skin with excessive licking, so now, in the winter, he takes a mild steroid a few times a week to calm his cabin fever.

A great shot, also by Brian Clark, of Marty jumping upon a rail.

A great shot, by weather observer Steve Welsh, of Marty jumping upon a rail.

Former weather observer Brian Clark had a reputation of being the “cat whisperer” and took many wonderful photos of Marty during his time on the mountain; to see more of them, review his Accuweather blog entries, “All About Marty the Cat,” and “My Favorite Pictures Part 4 Summit Cats“.

Marty looks out over Wildcat Mountain.

Marty takes in the view of the Presidential Range (Brian Clark photo).

I hope to get a few more photos of my own of Marty, but I’m a realist. I’m just another one of the legions of Marty fans on the mountain and around the globe (see the MWOB Facebook page, and the number of “likes” any shot of Marty garners). Maine Coons are usually people lovers, but Marty doesn’t cozy up to just anyone.  This cat encounters a constantly changing set of visitors, both in his quarters and outdoors. Although the weather observers are a stable presence, they come and go in their one-week shifts, making it hard for a cat to bond with a best friend. But as I  have been writing this entry, Marty has come out of hiding. After some slinking around, he cautiously hopped onto the couch where I am sitting. Now he is dozing on the cushion next to me, about a foot away. This is day three on the summit; maybe, just maybe, by the week’s end, Marty will call me a friend.

P.S. Later that night, while I was sitting on the couch and watching a movie, Marty settled in a step closer.  I think I even heard him purring.