For twenty-five years, I waited to do this. Whenever I came across a small group of ice climbers exploring the lesser known regions of the White Mountains, I always stopped and admired them. I wanted to know more about where they were and how it felt to raise oneself up a cliff using ice axes. Now my time had come.
A few years back, my kids did some rock wall climbing at the North Country Climbing Center in Littleton, and I guess that put me on their email list. Their emails come infrequently, which makes them more likely for me to open than the emails from companies that spam me daily. So when they emailed this winter about the opportunity to go ice climbing with them, I actually opened the email and found out about it.
It felt like a sign. With my 48th birthday coming around the corner, I decided enough was enough. I needed to try this. If not now, when? Hoping to find some wingmen for the adventure, I reached out to a bunch of guys who I thought would like this sort of thing. There was a surprising amount of disinterest. A lot of guys were nervous about the risks, and others simply didn’t have it on their bucket list. But I found three willing and able adventurers in my brother-in-law, my son, and his buddy.
Heading to Kinsman Notch
We met up with our guides at a pull-off on Route 112 in Woodstock. There were eight in our party altogether: two guides, the guides’ friend who was there to help if needed, the four of us, and one other guest. Our guides introduced themselves, set us up with boots and crampons, and after a final gear-check, we were off.
It took about twenty to thirty minutes to get to the ice wall, and it was a tough little ascent due to the steep incline and thick snow. The other guest needed to rest about halfway up, and I was grateful: one, because it allowed me to slow down, and two, because he was much younger than me. (When he learned my age, he said, “Oh, wow.”)
The Ice Crag
I don’t recall anyone saying this when we were there, but a Google search of the area afterward indicated this spot is called the “Luck O’ the Irish Crag.” Whatever it’s called, it was awesome.
When we arrived at the foot of the crag, we waited off to the side and out of reach from any potential ice falls, while our lead guide climbed up the first pitch to set some ropes. Even though there was nothing for us to do at this time, it was fun just to stand and watch. There is a rhythm and purity to ice climbing that draws you in and holds your attention. Sure, the realization that we were about to try this captured our focus, but observing the activity is mesmerizing and meditative. There’s little sound except the clinking of ice tools chipping into the frozen waterfalls, and with each swing of the axe, you are pulled deeper into the experience—even when you’re not the one doing the swinging.
First Attempts
The first pitch the guides had me try was the harder of the two routes. Great. I was really hoping to get my feet wet on the easier line, but okay, here we go.
A long time ago, a rock-climbing instructor once told me that women initially make better rock climbers because they more naturally use their whole bodies, while men tend to go all arms—that it’s a natural instinct for men to forget their feet and try to pull themselves up a wall. I don’t know if that’s exactly what happened to me on this first effort, but I must have depended on my arms too much because I lost feeling in them only fifteen feet or so into the climb. Extending my right arm above my head for the next thwack, I felt weak and had little strength to drive the ice axe in with the necessary force. I called down to everyone below, “Um, I can’t feel my arms.”
What I quickly learned is that extending your arms above your head for too long—especially in the cold—screws with your blood flow, and it’s important to take little breaks when you’re ice climbing. Bringing an arm down by your side helps to get your circulation going again. But it was too late on this first attempt, and I headed down to collect myself. And the feeling in my arms.
The young guns, on the other hand, had no problem. They made it look easy as they tackled the headwall with consistent effort and vigor. They were incredible.
Effort Two
Success! It was the easier line, but when it comes to ice climbing, there really isn’t much that’s easy. The grade was a little gentler, though, which helped. It gave me a chance to learn. On the first effort, I climbed a little panicky, not fully trusting the gear to hold me in place. Believing that two little spikes on your feet are going to hold up your entire body takes a leap of faith. But on this second effort, I started finding a rhythm.
Eventually, we all got comfortable enough that the lead guide went to set another route while we belayed each other on the first wall. The responsibility of belaying is an invigorating act as well. Knowing that the person above you is dependent on you, tethers you in more ways than one. When they make a move, you anticipate it. When they get past a hairy section, you feel their sense of accomplishment. For every part of their ascent, you are with them, carefully watching, ready to catch. Kinda like raising kids.
The Third Wall
The last ascent we made was super fun. While the young bucks repeatedly conquered the most difficult lines, we ascended a third leg that ran farther in length but had a couple of nice breaks baked into it where you could rest on your knees.
To the left of the route was a little cave with icicles hanging down over the opening, like fangs on a mouth agape. I asked the lead guide if I could traverse over to it, and he enthusiastically encouraged me to check it out. It was cool. Even though it was small, the simple act of making your way over to a cave in the middle of a cliff wall—unreachable under normal circumstances and never seen by most—awakens the explorer in you.
When I reached the top of the climbing route, there was a little flat area where you could comfortably set your feet and free your hands to take out your phone, and I used the opportunity to take pictures of the valley and the guys below. But after snapping a few photos, I returned my phone to my pocket; I wanted to spend a few moments simply looking around and breathing it all in. I was at peace.
Ice Climbing Kinsman Notch with Guides
How often do you go ice climbing? Right. So if you’re thinking of trying it, you need to start with a guide. The guys from Northeast Country Climbing were great, and I highly recommend giving them a call. They brought enthusiasm and confidence that facilitated an amazing experience, and we loved every part of it.