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 Friends, I have summited Mount Washington. (That's one item off my list!) I climbed two weeks ago, with a few friends I managed to rope in with me, and this entry has been rolling around in my mind since then. I thought I had something more profound to say, but nope. It's as simple as these thoughts: - New Hampshire, I approve of you. - Such beautiful, beautiful views. - I can't believe I did this. - Seriously? Seriously. - The most physically challenging thing I've done in my life so far. Hiking up was good; we were all pretty pumped. In the back of my mind, I was slightly worried that my fear of heights would paralyze me (it usually does) but as we got higher and higher, the fear never arose. I silently gave myself a pat on the back for that. Anyway, I started getting really tired near the top, taking more frequent breaks. Turns out I was low on energy, so I crammed my last energy bar into my mouth and climbed the hell out of those rocks for the last stretch. Of my friends, I was the last one to the top. I was definitely the slowest hiker, but I wouldn't change it. Hiker rules always say go the pace of the slowest hiker, and I'm grateful that my friends checked back on me from time to time and said okay to taking frequent breaks. I also learned that I can be really grumpy... It was so beautiful the moment we got above the treeline. (Not that it wasn't beautiful while hiking the trail below the treeline; it just got even more beautiful above the treeline.) The views were incredible. It's like that feeling when you see the stars clearly for the same time. You just want to keep looking, keep taking it in and marvel at how the world can be so beautiful. New Hampshire, I approve of you. (You'll see photos pop-up in the following entries.) The summit was cool (literally, it was cool). I pulled on a long-sleeved shirt soon after reaching. There's a road people can drive up on to summit, and the famous cog railway to the top. That said, I have to admit, it was really weird walking among tourists in shorts and flip-flops. Other than that, I got some souvenirs, signed the hiker log, had food and explored the summit (there's an observatory). It didn't really sink in that I was on top of mountain until I had reached the bottom again. Unbelievable. You would think going down a mountain would be easier than going up (like going down the stairs is easier), but you would be very wrong. I don't think my knees have absorbed that much shock before. The impact of going down from rock to rock was a lot more intense than I expected, but after a while my knees were all, "I'm adapting, I'm adapting!" On the way down though, I did manage to epically wipe out. I could have prevented this, but I like to live dangerously? (Don't act tough when you're not, Amy.) Back in high school, I played softball and injured both of my ankles--the right one, horribly, freshman year; the left one, stupidly, senior year. Basically, I have not-so-great ankles that give out on me from time-to-time. Anyway, the trail was sort of along the mountainside, and my right ankle gave out on me as I was stepping down on the next rock. And I just fell. I landed hard on my knees and slid, but managed to put out my hands to prevent myself from sliding off into more rocks on the side. After a few moments, I regained my footing and pulled myself back up. I sat down in the middle of the trail to inspect myself: rotated my right ankle slowly both ways and it felt okay; scraped both my knees but it was mostly the massive bruises I could feel forming on each cap. All in all, I escaped unscathed. But oh man, the following week (last week), it looked like someone took a bat to my knees--they were incredibly black and blue. They look and feel much better now though, so they're almost healed! These things happen. The feeling, when we reached the bottom and came out of the trail onto the road, was really some kind of great feeling. Looking back up, all I could think was, "I was up there?!! And now I'm all the way down here??!" Unreal. But during the post-climb meal, I was about ready to crash. With all the adrenaline gone, the events of the day had finally caught up me. I think we were all ready to sleep, sleep, sleep. I've had my share of physical strains and pains from school sports to running to helping people move, but summiting this mountain was the most physically challenging thing I've done in my life so far. And it was and still is incredible to me. I'm constantly amazed at what the human body is capable of, and I really do understand why people do triathlons or attempt Everest or run ultramarathons: because we can. We have such great capacity to persist and endure. It's the human strength, this unwavering and unbelievable human strength. |
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Hi, my name is Amy. Be well, and say hello!
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Wow - congratulations! That must have felt amazing (well, minus the fall).
I love this line: "and I really do understand why people do triathlons or attempt Everest or run ultramarathons: because we can." So very true. That's probably one of the top reasons why I run: because I can (but I couldn't always, which makes it even sweeter).
First, I apologize for not hanging back to stay with you earlier in the hike. I didn't fully realize that we weren't all together most of the time, and I should have split the group in two a lot sooner. I feel terrible that you fell without anyone there to help you.
Second, you have always been pretty badass. This only proves it more. =:)
I still need to send you my pictures. Hope you don't mind that I accidentally had the camera on ISO 1600 and that I have lint all over some lens deep inside the camera that I can't find for the life of me. (Argh!)