Mt. Washington Ice Fest: The Uncensored Report

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“I have you going to the Mt. Washington Valley Ice Festival,” Dana said.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” I responded. I think I was dusting my leather couch. “What are the dates?”

“February 5 to 8.”

“Won’t it be too cold for climbing?” I’d been to New Hampshire once before and had really enjoyed Cathedral Ledge.

“It’s an ice climbing festival,” Dana sighed. She is more than used to and sweetly tolerant of my ADD and multitasking.

“Ice climbing!” Pause. “Fine, I’ll go,” I pouted. “Even though I don’t really like ice climbing.” I keep forgetting that I have a job and it’s not the same as a friend asking you if you want to go on a particular trip. You are going—it’s your job. Right.

I did have a couple of great friends in the area, and they would be in town. Turns out I had a lot more friends than I remembered.

•••

Day one began with a red-wine hangover and the thermometer reading 5 degrees. Since it technically wasn’t the “Ice Festival” yet, we were free to do whatever we wanted. And if you asked me now if mixed climbing was something I would ever want to do on any given day, I’d say, “Absolutely not.” I’d rather sit in a cubicle. I was lured into it by the fact that they called it “cragging,” which to me means the hike isn’t too long to carry a couple of beers in your pack and that there are a lot of people there that you know and can gossip with and heckle at as you belay.

What “mixed climbing cragging” turned out to be was this: wearing fruit boots with metal spikes, trying to stand on 5.8 edges in said footwear, wanky and precarious tool placements that jeopardized my recent $8,000 oral surgery bill, and wanting to vomit from the pain in my fingers, which “ice climbers” affectionately call the Screaming Barfies. (Does anyone else think this term is corny?) And of course, since I suck at mixed climbing even worse than I suck at surfing, I had to climb on a top rope that my belayer couldn’t keep tight enough. But assuming the role of client did have its advantages. I didn’t have to carry anything. One other redeeming factor of this activity: I had a positive 14-inch ape index.

•••

Day two started with less jet lag (yes, one can suffer from a difference of two time zones), absence of red-wine headache, and a day spent climbing with a good old friend, Doug Madara. We did a classic ice climb on Cathedral that I’m pretty sure I rock-climbed last time I was in town. It was called Diedre. And, not to brag, but I’m fairly certain I have the FFFTRABANIC. If any readers can tell me what this acronym stands for, they will win a free pair of Black Diamond Fusion ice tools.

Day three was the big blowout party, so I thought I had better get some exercise to warrant all the Pabst I planned on consuming that night. Janet said she was going rock climbing (outside), which is something I know and can do. I just couldn’t grasp where in this now zero-degree weather she was considering going. A nonstop flight to El Paso seemed out of my budget. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been plenty desperate for rock climbing in cold weather. But never have I been so wretched that I had to snowshoe to the crag and regretted not wearing a helmet because of ice daggers hanging over the trail. But you wouldn’t have heard me complaining. I had a chalk bag, GriGri, and climbing shoes in my pack—the tools of my trade.

The night began with a boisterous local telling me that he remembered me from last time. Apparently I was climbing the rafters at a barn party. A lot of crazy stuff happened on this night, but to sum it up I will share with you an excerpt from a post-fest email thread between me and the super-strong and equally rowdy NH girl posse:

Hi Ladies! I just wanted to let you know how much fun I had this past weekend. It was so great to meet you and spend time together. I really hope our travels will bring us together sometime soon. Stay in touch and have a great winter! Brittany

Dudettes! I couldn’t walk on Sunday, and I could barely drag myself up the 10s at Rumney today because I threw out my back dancing with you all! I think it was actually from the limbo rope; I went under it twice. Am I getting old or what?! I even bought me an old person's plastic thingy to put hot water in and apply to my soreness. Fun times for sure, though. It was surely worth it. Painfully yours, Janet

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Brittany Griffith is the AAC’s events coordinator. Click here to see Dana Richardson’s photos from the Mt. Washington Valley Ice Festival, and visit the Ice Fest blog for more photos.

In the photo: Anne Skidmore (left) and Sarah Garlick, co-organizers of the Mt. Washington Valley Ice Festival. Courtesy of Anne Skidmore Photography.