Words by Oliver Rind, Philippe Giguère and Lukasz Allepot
Images by Sainte-Pax Productions 

Winters come and go, but no two are alike. Under the repeated onslaughts of El Niño, the one we've just had turned out to be... mild. Comfortable. Humid. In Montreal, the mercury never dropped below -20 degrees, and the rain spoiled the experience for many skiers. It's a far cry from the winters of my childhood. 

For finding snow in the early spring of 2024, ironically, you’d have to drive south to visit our American neighbours. The destination: Mount Washington, New Hampshire, home of the “world’s worst weather.” The objective: Ski touring in one of the most beautiful spots on the East Coast. 

“This car climbed Mount Washington” 
Less than a 4-hour drive from Montreal, Mount Washington is well known to outdoor enthusiasts. A giant of the East Coast, it stands 1,917 m high, right up there with its White Mountain neighbours. Climbing it by car is easy if you're not afraid of heights. But on foot or on skis, it's a whole different story. The weather here is highly unstable, and the highest winds on the planet have been recorded here, at 372 km/h. Even if we're not expecting that today, we'll have to be very careful. And above all, check the snow conditions and avalanche warnings. 

With my ski buddies Émile, Fred and Phil, we set off from Shefford on a beautiful March afternoon. The road runs from the Quebec border, winding through the mountains of Vermont. Fred is at the wheel, and I let my gaze wander over the surrounding snow-covered woods that stretch as far as the eye can see. 

Our chalet is a rustic log cabin on the banks of the Ellis River, near Jackson, N.H. When we arrive, we check the conditions for the next day, and the verdict is in: It will be impossible to ski Mount Washington. The area is at high risk of avalanches, and there have been several in recent weeks. We may have our equipment (probe, shovel and avalanche transceiver), but we don't really want to use them. Mountain safety is not something to be taken lightly. 

It’s all part of the game, as they say. And it's increasingly true: With milder winters, wider temperature swings and more frequent extremes, it's not unusual to have to change plans at the very last minute. Just as it's not unusual to have to go further and further afield in search of snow. 

South Baldface, take two 
We set our sights on South Baldface, not too far from here and an excellent option when conditions are too dangerous at Mount Washington. This spot has long been known to ski touring enthusiasts and the undergrowth has been carefully landscaped in recent years to extend the descents. 

In terms of difficulty, it's a little more accessible than Mount Washington. Depending on the skier or snowboarders’ level, it takes about a day to go up and down. Despite our disappointment over not sticking to our original plan, it's a beautiful mountain that switches things up from the others I'm used to visiting on the American East Coast. 

Synthetic fibres? A must-have! 
We wake up around 5 AM. It's a beautiful morning, quite warm, as we start to prepare our gear for departure. Despite the mild weather, it's imperative to bring clothing for all eventualities, especially as it's likely to be quite windy beyond the tree lines. 

Our essentials for this kind of ski touring adventure: merino socks that aren't too thick, a breathable fleece, a synthetic fibre layer (much more effective than down in such conditions, as it retains its warmth even when wet), a windproof shell, avalanche gear, and snacks. I also always bring an extra coat for temperature changes—a frequent occurrence in the mountains. 

My favourite piece, and a must-have for an adventure like this, is definitely my Casaval Summit Series hooded jacket from The North Face. It’s highly technical and doesn’t have shoulder seams, so when you're carrying a heavy backpack for hours on end, believe me, it makes all the difference. 

Beware of streams 
We park our car beside NH 113. After checking our gear one last time, we enter the woods, following the trail. It's a four-kilometre stretch of almost flat terrain, ideal for warming up before the climb. All around us, Baldface reveals its charms. The sun streams through the undergrowth, and the wind whistles softly through the frostless conifers. Apart from our skis gliding against the snow and the murmur of the few streams we have to cross (we have to be careful not to fall into the water), it's all very quiet. 

As soon as we reach the foot of the mountain, the ride gets a little more strenuous. But we don't pay too much attention to fatigue, because as soon as we start climbing, the characteristic landscape of the American East Coast unfolds before our eyes. After about ten kilometres, the trees begin to thin out more and more. We're nearing the summit. South Baldface isn't all that high, just over a thousand metres, but its empty summit gives us a 360-degree view of the surrounding countryside. The White Mountains undulate across the plain, and I have to squint to see the horizon, the sky is so blue. 

We indulge in a quick snack before starting the descent. Émile, our photographer, brought along an old 16 mm camera. So we're all set to capture some great retro shots of our athletic prowess. 

“I think I broke my binding”
We take off. Barely a minute has passed when a scream rings out: Émile has broken his binding. No choice but to stop. It was a tiny, ridiculously trivial fall, but it was enough to put a strain on our already worn-out equipment... and jeopardize the rest of our journey. We fasten his ski to his backpack, which proves to be quite successful, but it means that Émile is left with only one ski and his camera in hand, in the hopes of capturing a few shots for the ride down. I'm quite optimistic and he seems to be doing well. Fred, on the other hand, is a little less confident; he keeps looking at the sun, which seems to be dropping faster and faster over the horizon. I don't think he really wants to ski in the dark, and frankly, neither do I! It's getting late, and we've still got a long way to go before we find our van. We can't afford to waste any more time. 

We continue down the mountain as it reveals itself to us. It's a real playground. In the east, it's important to remember that skiing conditions are highly unpredictable in spring. The snow is often light in the morning, then warms up quickly around midday and becomes very hard later on. The further down you go, the more the snow quality varies. But for me, that's the charm of a mountain like South Baldface. Having a bald summit also gives us open terrain and a multitude of possibilities for choosing our descent. It allows us to test our skills in a completely different way. 

Nothing beats the experience 
It wasn't the trip we'd hoped for. At the end of the slope, Émile's binding had to be strapped to his boot—he wasn't going to ski 13 km on a single ski. But that's where a skier's experience really comes into play. Anything can happen. The mountain decides everything, from the snow conditions to the weather that changes midway through our adventure. And it's up to us to adapt.