#20 Be in a Car That Climbs Mt. Washington
Out of all the items on the list, this was the one I was least prepared for*. For whatever reason, I assumed driving up to the top of Mt. Washington would be a breeze. A quick up one side and a quick down the other side. I’ve never been so wrong in my entire life about anything. (Except that time Josh and I debated who played Tom Hanks’ wife in “Apollo 13.” It’s not Joan Allen and I’ll never forget the name Kathleen Quinlan for as long as I live.)
If my memory serves me correct, this is the only item on the list that was suggested by another person. My cousin Greg had always wanted to drive to the top of Mt. Washington. Well, so did I (after he suggested it). If you’re from the Northeast you’ve most definitely seen them, but they are less rare to those of you outside of New England. Of course I’m talking about the “This Car Climbed Mount Washington” bumper sticker.
The ride up was about four hours long, but Greg and I laughed pretty much the entire way so it didn’t feel like four hours at all. Same goes for the way back. It was awesome to spend time with him. If a topic exists in the world, we covered it.
When we reached our destination, I expected the base of the mountain to have tram like tracks, similar to those at a car wash, that you drove your car on to and would just take you up the mountain and back down. This is not the case.
Included in the fee for the drive is the coveted “This Car Climbed Mt. Washington” sticker, an audio tour CD, and a few pamphlets on what goes on at the top.
“Does anyone just come for the bumper sticker and leave?” Greg asked our affable Park Ranger.
Marcia’s (I can’t remember her real name) eyes narrowed in confusion. “That’s a pretty expensive bumper sticker.” Once again, my theory that Park Rangers at Mt. Washington have no sense of humor has been proven.
I thought the set of instructions that came with our Mt. Washington goodie bag were unnecessary. Pump your breaks, don’t exceed 20 miles an hour, be safe, blah blah blah. It’s driving up a mountain, how difficult can it be? Answer: Thank goodness Greg was driving. I was terrified. It’s worth pointing out at this point that Mt. Washington is the highest point in the Northeast. There. Now you’re terrified too.
The first two miles are gorgeous. There are a few pull off areas to admire the beautiful flowers and trees. A tiny waterfall here, a tiny waterfall there. And then suddenly, you’re in the clouds teetering on the edge OF A MOUNTAIN. Obviously, I’ve never been on a mountain before. I found myself sitting angled towards the driver’s side, away from possible death and staring out the front window. I thought if my eyes even looked over the edge, we would go over drifting off of Mt. Washington like the opening credits to Mad Men. I started to feel a little sick to my stomach.
My anxiety kicked in further when the road became dirt and narrowed even more. They say it’s a two lane road, but I’m not buying it. Unfortunately, we were forced to test this theory, but we did make it out alive. (Even writing this now my stomach is turning.)
As you get closer to the top, the curves get tighter and less forgiving. It was an overcast day, so the fog thickened as we made our ascent. Of course there are other ways up Mt. Washington. You can take their train, hike, or bike. Those are way less fun though.
Losers.
Once at the top, we delved into the sandwiches we bought at a deli a few miles back. Greg’s bag of Sun Chips was about to burst due to the atmospheric pressure. We both felt fairly tummy sick so we took our time adjusting and eating before venturing out to explore the top of Mt. Washington!
The weather on top of Mt. Washington can be some of the harshest in the world, as well as the most predictable. There was about a 20 degree temperature difference between land and mountain.Greg had reminded me earlier in the day to bring a sweatshirt, which is something I almost never do, but I was glad I did, because it was windy, chilly, and overcast. Perfect weather to rock a Bake and Destroy sweatshirt. However, not a perfect day to sunbathe, which for some reason, tons of dudes had chosen to do.
For having seen barely any cars on our way up, I would refer to the top of the mountain as bustling. Most of these cheaters took the train up instead of driving up like total bad asses. Aside from the amazing views at the top, Mt. Washington is host to two gift shops, a small museum, a cafe, and an old timey meeting house restaurant place with tiny wooden beds covered in straw. I didn’t take the time to read exactly what it was, but if it was the only structure that existed back in olden times, it was most likely all of those things rolled into one. (It just dawned on me that the people that work up there need to drive that mountain every day. Holy cats.)
Now, the entire point of driving to the top is to take in some of the beautiful views. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.
The view from the top as people make the drive up.
A view of the surrounding mountains in the area from Mt. Washington
Tourists had stacked piles of rocks at random places all over Mt. Washington. Literally, they were everywhere.
Just looking at this picture makes my stomach turn. See the side of the road on the left and where it stops? Yeah, if you teeter a mere inch over that, you fall off of Mt. Washington.
My travel buddy, Greg! He used his brute strength to fix this view finder. I’m not even kidding.
Celebrating our ascent to the top of Mt. Washington and having successfully bullied other tourists out of the way so I could have my moment.
The trip was awesome. It had everything that you would expect in a good movie. Comedy, terror, colorful characters, nature, and sandwiches. We capped off the day by stopping at Newick’s Seafood Restaurant in Dover, New Hampshire – a delicious suggestion. We hit a small amount of traffic on the way back and Greg opted to take back roads. For about fifteen minutes it rained harder than I’d ever seen it before, but the results yielded a magnificent rainbow that we could see the beginning and end of. A first for both of us!
Truly a day of adventure!
*until the next one
#1 Attend a Gwar Show
“Are we listening to that Owl City song about butterflies on the way up to a Gwar show?” I asked.
“Yes,” Joe said. “And it’s ‘Fireflies’.”
That was the last time I would hear a sentence at a normal volume for three days.
It’s weird for me to say that this list was initially created so I could justify going to a Gwar show, but it’s the truth. A few years ago my cousin Greg and I stood on the platform of the Park Street station and saw people covered in fake blood. Greg figured out that Gwar was in town and I decided that I needed to be a part of that. I think this was the same night that we both attended the James Taylor/Carole King show at the Garden. We’re eclectic. No big deal.
Let me preface this entry by saying that I’d only heard of Gwar through the movie Empire Records and found them terrifying. Also note that I hate the following things: getting messy, fake blood, general admission shows, loud noises, standing, tall people, late starts, and shitty beer offerings at bars.
Somehow, I was able to convince my friend Joe to go with me. Joe’s a good sport and kept me entertained during ALL THREE opening acts by referencing the movie “Nell” and thinking that Bing Crosby was in Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. And I’m glad super glad that he came because knowing what I know now, there is no way I would’ve survived that trip up to Wally’s Pub.
Nestled in the heart of a completely desolate Hampton Beach, Wally’s Pub caters to…you know what? Nevermind. You can draw your own conclusion based on the rest of this story.
From reading the line up online, I deduced that Gwar was supposed to go on around 9;30 and be done no later than 11pm. That meant I could be home by midnight and get a decent night sleep before class the next day. However, as I previously stated, three bands opened for them including one that may have been a Gwar cover band fronted by Papa Shango, but I’m not entirely sure. How am I supposed to know these things?
We took a few risks while we there. For instance I ventured in to use the bathroom, Joe suggested we split a Jello shot that someone left behind (and we totally did, you guys!), and I made eye contact with three separate people with head tattoos.
So, like an old person, I bitched endlessly until Gwar eventually came out at 11:10pm and did all their classics like “Saddam a G0-Go*” and “Ham on the Bone*” All the lyrics sounded to me like they were screaming “Motherfucking pterodactyl” over and over again. At one point two men in thongs came onstage and beat up a metal construction that resembled a Dinosaur and an Antelope. Later, a dude dressed as Snooki came out, had a C-section on stage, and sprayed fake blood all over the crowd from the umbilical chord.
I felt like this was an opera. A long musical piece in an entirely different language that told a bizarre story. Somehow that Dinolope and Snooki are connected. Perhaps Snooki was the overlord that ordered those two thonged men to beat the Dinolope. Was Snooki’s live birth a statement on our current culture and media obsession? Was the man with a bear trap for a face the protagonist of the story? Again, I’m not sure, but I’m just going to label it “a cluster fuck” and move on.
Luckily, the mosh pit separated us from the constant blood splatters. Mosh pits are a funny thing. There is a very supportive psychology to them, much like improv. People willingly jump in to a circle where they push, shove, and inflict harm on each other. If they fell on the ground, about six people immediately rushed over to pick them up. If they wavered to the perimeter, those on the outside pushed them back in to the center without question or an air of annoyance. When a mosher decided that they had had enough for that moment, they would turn around, completely glassy eyed and nauseated, and exit past me. I was convinced that although I would not be covered in fake blood, I could end up being covered in real vomit.
Around midnight I turned to Joe and said “Hey, we can go at anytime…”
“Okay.” And he took off towards the door. I think we both were feeling complete sensory overload and confusion. I left Wally’s Pub still not really understanding what Gwar is or the appeal. They’ve been around since the early 80’s and there has to be a reason for that, but what that is, again, I’m not sure. I thought that by attending this show I’d get a better understanding of metal culture and performance art, but I really think I am making this out to be something with far more depth and complication than is necessary. Basically, Gwar is loud, edgy, and totally out of my wheelhouse, but an entertaining time nonetheless. And that’s really what it’s about.
*I have no idea if these are classics, but, according to setlist.fm they are at least Gwar songs that they performed that night.
Punching Moments in the FACE 
