Being from New Hampshire, I take pride in certain things.
That’s why I was sad to learn that New Hampshire’s Mount Washington had lost its status as the site of the fastest wind gust ever recorded on earth. Apparently a panel of experts from the World Meteorological Organization announced that a review of extreme weather and climate data revealed that Australia’s Barrow Island experienced a record wind gust of 253 miles per hour during Cyclone Olivia in 1996. That beats the 231 mile per hour record set on Mount Washington (the highest peak in the Northeastern United States at 6,288 feet) on April 12, 1934. (Click here to read a story about the new wind record.)
I’ve climbed Mount Washington three times, and it’s a very windy place. It’s also in the clouds most of the time, and can be chilly during the nicest months of the year. The first time I climbed Mount Washington, in high school, it was a beautiful day, and we had incredible views. The second time, I went up in the rain with a group of friends from the summer camp where I worked. By the time we got above treeline, our clothes were thoroughly soaked, and we walked from cairn to cairn in a fog bank so thick we could only see about 10 feet in front of us. It was around this point that my friend Erik started singing the Jimmy Cliff song “I Can See Clearly Now.” I hiked the mountain a couple years later with my friend Geoff. Everything was going fine until we got above tree line, where we encountered an unpleasant phenomenon known as frozen fog, which is what happens when the droplets freeze into extremely tiny crystals of ice in midair. The frozen fog was so painful that I took off my sweater and tied it around my head.
I’m not sure the loss of the wind record is quite as sad as the loss of the Old Man of the Mountain. The Old Man, of course, is the rock outcropping that resembled a man’s head and serves as a state symbol. One morning in 2003 I woke up to discover that the Old Man — long held together by wires and nails — had crumbled to bits during the night. For me, the Wikipedia entry about the Old Man reads like a sad obituary: “The Old Man of the Mountain, also known as the Great Stone Face or the Profile, was a series of five granite cliff ledges on Cannon Mountain in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, USA that, when viewed from the correct angle, appeared to be the jagged profile of a face. The outcrop was 1,200 feet (370 m) above Profile Lake, and measured 40 feet (12 m) tall and 25 feet (7.6 m) wide. The site is located in the town of Franconia. The first recorded mention of the Old Man was in 1805. It collapsed on May 3, 2003.” (Click here to read more, and see pictures of the Old Man.)
I haven’t lived in New Hampshire in years, but I think I’ll always feel like I’m from there. Although some people may dispute that. While working in Alabama, I met a New Hampshire native who told me I wasn’t really from New Hampshire because I spent the first two years of my life in Massachusetts. But since I don’t remember living there, I’ll stick to telling people I’m from New Hampshire. There are only a few Facebook groups that I belong to. One is “The Old Man of the Mountain,” where people post their memories of the Old Man, and “I’m From New Hampshire and I’m Wicked Proud of It!,” where people talk about how awesome New Hampshire is. Unlike some people I know, I’m not prone to using the word wicked as descriptor and exclamation, but I understand the sentiment. Even if New Hampshire has lost its distinction as the windiest place on earth, and no longer has the Old Man, it’s still pretty special. Wicked special, some might say.
NATIONAL KAZOO DAY
Here’s some exciting news: It’s National Kazoo Day. For more information, and a nice clip of singer/composer Mister Tim playing a kazoo version of Metallica’s “Enter Sandman,” click here to check out local arts blog Nippertown.
Got a comment? E-mail me at
