Vibe-Winter-2425 - Flipbook - Page 66
“What you can see is what you drive. If you can’t see, you turn
around,” he says.
Even during shoulder season, the changing temperatures
present challenges. The tractor’s carbide picks damage the road’s
asphalt surface, so staff transport the tractor via flatbed truck to a
staging point midway up the mountain early in the season. When
snow begins to fall at higher elevations, staff members drive the
bare portion of the road in a pickup or van—sometimes using tire
chains—then transfer to the snow cat to complete the journey.
The whole routine can sometimes take longer than a snow cat
trip from base to summit.
The worsening of extreme weather studied by scientists at
the summit can also hinder their ability to reach it. According to
Charlie Buterbaugh, director of external affairs for the Observatory, summit researchers have identified an increased incidence of
rain-on-snow events, affecting snowpack stability and avalanche
risk, as well as transportation. In spring 2023, heavy rains washed
out portions of the Auto Road and shut it down for a week,
forcing staff members to instead rely on the Mount Washington
Cog Railway to provide transportation for shift changes.
“With the increase of extreme weather throughout the
country, the Observatory is more and more being seen as kind
of a hub for learning and research on understanding extreme
weather,” Buterbaugh says.
SUMMIT LIFE
As we round the summit, a white cross near the top of the Cog
Railway reminds us that despite the mild weather, visitors to
the mountain are never far from danger. The Sherman Adams
Building is closed for the season, with gift shop merchandise and
maintenance supplies stacked around its silent halls. Inside a door
to the Observatory, Karl Philippoff and Francis Tarasiewicz record
their hourly measurements in the weather room while Knapp
rests for his overnight shift. Weather observers work one week
on and one week off, traveling up to the summit on Wednesdays.
They’re typically accompanied by one or two interns and several
volunteers, who handle the cooking and cleaning in exchange for
a chance to stay on the summit overnight.
On the day I visit, a crockpot of chili is bubbling on the counter, and Nimbus the resident summit cat is hiding away in a corner,
fast asleep. Philippoff, a native of New Jersey, describes his coworkers as his “summit family” and notes he spends as much time
on the summit as away. Even for a weather enthusiast, though,
the hours are long, and all three observers recall with annoyance
days when extreme weather delayed their shift change.
“I love being up here, but eight days is still a long time.
Usually, I’m pretty ready to go down,” Philippoff says.
For Knapp and Tarasiewicz, the ride up is one of the less
enjoyable parts of the job. Knapp experiences motion sickness
and prefers to walk behind the snow cat when conditions allow.
Tarasiewicz, meanwhile, is afraid of heights, and more than two
years in, still sits on the left side of the tractor cab, facing the
mountain, on the way up.
“I always liken the trip in the snow cat to the teacup ride
at Disneyland on a boat,” Knapp says.
“If you’re prone to motion sickness, Dramamine is your
best friend.”
Aside from people, the snow cat carries weekly supplies and
occasional odds and ends—like a Christmas tree in December,
and Nimbus when he has a vet appointment in the Valley.
The Observatory is stocked with several weeks’ worth
of food, and a generator serves the building in
times of power outage. (The summit is
connected to the
“The greatest challenge is visibility,” says Jon Powers, transportation
coordinator for the Mount Washington Observatory. “With the mountain’s
high winds and constant drifts, the landscape is never static, and operators
are often navigating through poor visibility on a path that shifts by the hour.”
WiseguyCreative.com photo
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