I almost died again...

Oh hay guise,

So remember how every so often I do something so reckless and awesome that I get the feeling "shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit, I'm definitely going to get naturally selected" but then miraculously survive? (reference jumping off a 78 foot cliff and eating the spiciest burger in the world). Yeah so I had that feeling again this weekend. It was amazing/terrifying. That's a normal combination of emotions, right?

My buddy Rich, from work, and I went up to Mt. Washington to ski Tuckerman's Ravine this past Caturday. We went up to the Tufts Loj with a few friends because, hey, I'll be damned if I ever hike a mountain in New Hampshire without being depressingly hungover. So yeah, it was a rough start to the morning, but I powered through, as I am wont to do when hiking Mt. Washington (note: the last time/only other time I've hiked Mt. Washington was with Rich and I was so hungover that I puked up a colorful-gummybear-mess about an hour before scaling the tallest mountain in New England). And hangover aside, this hike was exhausting. The trail was snowy/icy, so for every step forward, we slid half a step back. Also, we were trucking it up that mountain (made it to the top in less than three hours while carrying skis? what?), so I was so friggn tired.

We made it to the base of Tuckerman's Ravine, which is a huge snowy bowl with nearly vertical walls that you have to climb up in ski boots. You know, ski boots? Those things that make you look like you have a mental disorder when you walk? Those things that are in no way fit for scaling a vertical wall of ice? Fun times. So yeah, with our skis on our backs, we start climbing up this ravine wall, using our ski poles as ice picks so that we have more than just the toes of our FUCKING SKI BOOTS as points of contact. And it was terrifying. If your center of mass was just a tiny bit backwards (and remember, we're climbing a wall that is nearly vertical. I exaggerate quite a bit, but this wall was literally about 80 degrees vertical), you would absolutely fall down the entire mountain wall. In fact, we saw a few people that did end up falling. And when you fall, you can't just stop yourself. You fall all the way down. I think one guy broke his arm. I was not amused by my predicament.

Pictures do it no justice. This thing was nuts.

Getting up this wall was both physically and mentally excruciating. It was honestly the third most difficult hike I've ever done. At one point I was 20 feet from the top, clinging to whatever surface I could for dear life, too tired to keep going. Ugh. And when we got to the top, I collapsed. But oh wait, it is Mt. Washington, so it was freezing and all my sweat was now super cold and pissing me off. But my legs still felt like they were made out of jelly, so I wasn't ready to start skiing. Soooo about halfway before I would have been actually ready, I was forced to put on my skis lest I die from hypothermia. And the fun part is that it was so vertical at the top, that you literally had to jump to start skiing. It was like ten feet before my skis actually hit snow.

And the moment they did hit snow? They instantaneously crossed and I fell. And tumbled. And spiraled head-over-heels out of control. For the third time in my life, I, Chris Severino, thought that I was going to perish. LUCKILY, I was able to swing my feet out in front to control my slide, and used my ski poles to stop myself before I hit a HUGE FUCKING PATCH OF ROCKS. Great start. I had tumbled halfway down the friggn ravine. Rich was kind enough to bring my skis down so I didn't have to climb up the entire way again, and then I managed to survive skiing down the rest of the way. It was fun, but I think I was still all jacked up on adrenaline from the whole "almost-dying-via-smashing-into-jagged-rocks-at-Mach-2" thing.

Needless to say, my survival rate is still at 100%. But just barely.