My 46er Journey - Part 10 - Haystack and Basin

September 2018 came fast and it was time to head back to the Adirondacks.  This trip however was to be much different, from the planning stages, through the end.  I wrote about this trip briefly in a previous post regarding my first time participating in 46 Climbs, you can find that post here.  I kept that entry short and left out some key points which were to be incorporated more in to this series, so hold tight cause this one is an emotional rollercoaster.

Many things were different about this trip since before we even got in the car.  For the first time, I was bringing my son Nicholas with me up to the Adirondacks.  He had done some climbs back home in Virginia with me a few times, but this was to be his first real test in the mountains.  Dan picked him up and headed over and we hit the road.  Not only was my son coming with me, I was also participating in 46 Climbs for the first time, and even better, Sunday September 2nd was my 3 year sobriety anniversary.  This trip also marked the first time we brought food with us, what a difference maker that became!!  Chicken sandwiches, eggs bacon and potatoes, and no Burger King, life was good and we felt like kings.

We hit the trail early Friday morning and headed to John's Brook Lodge, we were going to camp at the sites just past the lodge and made great time getting there.  We decided to set up camp and grab some grub before heading out.  We knew we had a long day ahead of us as we planned to get 3 peaks so fuel was a necessity.  Nicholas was doing great and keeping up, I was so happy to have my boy with me, and Dan was being Dan cracking jokes, smiling, and helping to lead the way.

We slogged our way up to Haystack, it was a busy day and we passed many hikers along the way.  After scrambling up to Little Haystack and then finally realizing we were at the wrong summit, we made it the rest of the way to Haystack for Nicholas' first high peak.  We relaxed for a few minutes and snacked.  We were socked in the clouds and couldn't see anything, but a slight break in the sky above us shown some blue and that energized us to carry on.  We headed over to Basin, by this time the long drive and lack of rest was catching up with us and our pace slowed.  The scrambles up the mountain were fun and Nicholas really enjoyed them.  We found our way to the top as the winds were picking up and the clouds were thickening.  We had never heard of the Saddleback cliffs which were in our route to the next peak.  We were informed by some other guys at the summit of Basin of them and with the rocks being slippery and uncertainty of what may lie ahead, we decided to forego Saddleback for another day.

This was a tough call for me as I was climbing for charity today, but also because we had now orphaned a peak in the middle of the great range.  At some point, we would have to come back for it.  We slowly made our way back to camp and the sun set on another beautiful day in the mountains.  Returning back to Slant Rock we ran in to an older gentleman who seemed to be in some trouble.  The man was shoeless, apparently his boots blew out coming down Mt Marcy and he had hiked back barefoot.  Andy was his name, an Adirondack veteran of about 70 years of age.  Dan gave him his crocks and asked if he needed anything else.  After making sure he was going to be ok for the night, we proceeded back to our camp.

We were all exhausted and after a brief meal we were out cold for the night.  The next morning we woke early, ate breakfast, and broke camp.  It was about that time that we saw Andy pass by with 2 other hikers carrying his pack for him.  It was nice to see he made it through the night and was safe and on his way home.  We headed out and eventually caught up with the group and hiked out together.  Andy and Dan were cutting up the whole time and made for a fun walk out of the woods.

Back in the car and headed home, we took our time getting back but were all anxious to sleep in a bed.  It was my anniversary and felt great to have started it in the woods with a man I called a brother and my son.  I was on top of the world once again, and once again, reality was about to set in.  I got back home and went about with life.  I celebrated with some great friends that week and things were going great.  I had been working with a boy named TJ for a few months and the week prior he had called to tell me he wasn't going to be attending meetings anymore, I didn't answer the phone but had talked to him through text.  I told him I would call him later that day to talk, he didn't answer.

Thursday night after my meeting Laura and I were sitting outside talking when I got a phone call around 10pm.  I'll never forget those words, "Did you hear about TJ?  He died".  Even now 2 years later writing this I well up with tears.  He had the most beautiful smile and could light up a room just by walking in it, his eyes cried of a boy who just wanted to be OK, a man who loved his son more than anything, he was genuine, loving, and funny.  I loved him so much, and always will.  I hardly slept that night, Laura and I laid in bed silent, I gazed at the ceiling and just couldn't comprehend that he was gone.

A group of us attended his funeral the following week and it was incredibly difficult.  I got to meet his family and tell them who I was, and who we were.  They were very appreciative of the help we had given him over the previous months, however they will never know the impact he had on me.  I'll never forget him and every year on my anniversary I make sure to make it known that while I am celebrating, myself, his family, and his beautiful son are all grieving for the loss of the most amazing young man I've ever known.  

I love you and miss you TJ.

My 46er Journey - Part 8 - The Interlude

Roan Mountain State Park - Tennessee

In February 2018 we returned home to Virginia from our previous trip to the Adirondacks.  We had now climbed 13 of the 46 high peaks in the Adirondacks and were getting excited about continuing our journey.  We had learned so much since that first trip less than a year prior.  So much about the mountains, the road, the experience, and ourselves.  We had learned to just keep going when you think you can't go on anymore.  We had learned that there's always something deep down inside that can push you through any adversary.  We had learned that we could rely on each other, and that things often don't work out the way you planned.

Returning home, I knew I had much uncertainty about my future.  I still hadn't found a job and the bills were piling up.  I was falling for this beautiful girl and afraid to tell her that I was unsure what was going to happen.  I didn't want to hurt someone, I didn't want to bring my baggage on to someone, I didn't want to expose myself to someone.  Then the day came, a note on the door to pick up a certified letter from the post office.  My heart sank, my stomach churned, my anxiety rose, the time had come.  I went and retrieved the letter and came back home to open it.  I had until the 31st of March to pay all the back payments on my house, or vacate the property.

Me on Grandfather Mountain, NC

There was no way I could come up with the over $8,000 that was owed to bring my payments up to date.  There was no way I could face myself or own up to this to anyone.  So I did the logical thing, and tucked the letter away and didn't say anything to anyone.  A few days went by and I knew I had to do something, so I met with my mentor and told him what was going on.  He made a few suggestions then asked if I was going to tell Laura.  I knew I obviously had to, but I didn't want to.  What would she think, would she leave, would she think I was a loser, would she never talk to me again.  Truth is, it didn't matter, because she was going to find out one way or another.  That evening I made us dinner and sat her down at the table and told her I was losing my house.  I explained everything and waited for the inevitable.  She looked at me and said "OK, well I guess we have to start packing".  WHAT!?!  Really!?!  You're not leaving?  You're not going to call me out for the loser I am?  Why?

Laura and I at Harper's Ferry, WV

She offered me encouragement and support, she helped pack when I couldn't.  At this point, we had 2 weeks to empty this house, sell what I could, throw away the trash, and pack what I couldn't sell in to storage.  Dan helped as much as he could too, and together the 3 of us got the house vacated just in time.

God had a plan all along, and He knew what He was doing.  I questioned time and time again throughout the whole ordeal but by this point I had learned to trust Him.  The last day, at the last moment, right before leaving my neighbor came out.  We had become pretty close over the years as he too was a recovering alcoholic with 18 years of sobriety.  I told him I lost the house and wasn't sure what I was going to do or even where I was going.  I told him "I can't believe with over 2 years sober I'm homeless", he looked at me and said "So what?  I was homeless at 10 years sober and God took care of me.  He will take care of you too."  I thanked him for everything and told him I would see him around.  I got in the car and pulled away.

I went to Laura's that night as she had offered for me to stay there till I figured things out.  Dan and I had a trip planned the next day and I figured the mountains would offer some solutions.  By this time Laura and I were officially a thing, but I wasn't too sure about the commitment of officially moving in together.  I knew though to do what I had been doing for 2 1/2 years now, take it one day at a time.

Dan and I at Roan Mountain, TN

Dan and I headed down to Tennessee for a few days to explore.  We stayed at Roan Mountain State Park and hiked all over Roan Mountain.  We took a day to do Grandfather Mountain in Western North Carolina, and explored a portion of the Linville Gorge.  It was a great trip and we both became homesick, or homeless sick in my case, and headed back to Virginia a few days early.

After getting back I decided I would "stay" with Laura, but I wasn't "moving in".  This became a source of comic relief for her and Dan as I refused to unpack my bags even though she had emptied a dresser for me.  I was so scared, even though she had proven to me time and time again over the past few months her dedication to me and to us, but what if I mess it up?  That's what I've always done.  Even with all the confidence I'd gained through the mountains and life, there was still that fear of failure lingering not just in the back, but all over my mind.

Me, Laura, Ken, and Dan at Hawksbill Mountain, NC

I was still struggling with the job situation but was told "just do the footwork", so I did.  I continued to apply for jobs, I got quite a few interviews and I went to them all.  Since I wasn't working and couldn't contribute financially, I pulled my weight around the house.  I cooked dinner every night, cleaned up, continued to look for work, and trusted God that everything will be alright.  Dan and I had planned to head up to New York again in June for a week or two to knock out more peaks.  By this time we had tossed around the notion of finishing our 46er on his 46th birthday which was just under 2 years away.  We knew we had our work cut out for us, but we were willing to do our best to make it happen.  We continued to hike and took a memorial day trip back to Roan Mountain with Laura and our friend Ken and the excitement for the summer continued to build.

Then it happened.  I got a job.  Start date; June 13th.

The mountains would have to wait.  God had different plans...again.

46 Climbs 2019 - Old Rag Mountain

After my 3rd and final summit of the day

August 31st, 2019; 2:00 am my alarm goes off.  I had just drifted off to sleep an hour earlier, the excitement of the day to come kept me from sleeping but I've been here before, and knew this would be the case.  I got up and downed some coffee and made some french toast.  I knew I was physically prepared for the day ahead but was a little concerned about the mental.  I'm a quitter, I have always quit when things got tough, I've always said "I can't", so the day ahead was going to be hard and I knew it.  I kept telling myself "you can do this".

I filled the cooler with water bottles, Gatorade, some sandwiches, and ice packs.  I grabbed my new lightweight running vest, and a gym bag of extra clothes and was on my way.  The drive to Old Rag from my house is about an hour and a half, I stopped at Wawa for a couple bananas and 2 more liters of water.  There's not many cars on the road at 3 am, so the drive is extra lonely.  I crank up the radio and try not to think about the challenge ahead.

My 2nd summit

I landed at the lot just before 4:30, quickly changed, stretched, went to the bathroom, went to the bathroom again, set my tracker, and went to the bathroom again.  Anxiety is terrible on the bladder.  I finally started the trek to the trail head about 4:35 am.  I'd done this trail 24 times prior, I knew what to expect and knew where my slowdown points would be.  Two other groups had left the parking lot while I was there and while I had to pace myself I also knew I would catch up to them.  The first group I caught up to right at the trail head, I paced them for a few minutes before they let me go by.  A few minutes later, I was passing the second group.  I was worried about my speed but knew I was going slower than normal and refused to check the clock.

From the parking lot to the scramble is about 3 miles so when I finally got there and was feeling stronger than ever, I began to make my way through; this is when I started passing a lot of people.  You'd be surprised the amount of people on this mountain at 5:30 in the morning.  I reached the summit for the first time around 6:15.  I stayed for roughly 30 minutes, stretched, ate a stale oat bar, talked with some people.  My fiance and friend were supposed to be meeting me at 8 and I didn't want to keep them waiting so I hurried down.  8 came, and went, and around 8:30 they showed up.  They got a little later start than usual and while my frustration was mounting I told myself "you need the rest, it's okay, things are exactly the way they're supposed to be".

You see, I've always had a problem with that saying.  If things aren't how I want them, then in my mind they're not the way they're supposed to be.  The reality is much different.  The things that Matt wanted in life are the exact reason I was here on this very day.  Matt wanted to be dead.  Matt wanted life to revolve around his wishes, what he thought was best, and when that didn't happen, Matt drank, and drank, and drank.  Matt was a full blown alcoholic by age 23, but refused to accept that idea.  Matt fought it tooth and nail for the next 7 years.  If my wife hadn't left me, if God didn't take that baby, if my parents understood me, if, if, if, until it was just Matt sitting on his couch making plans to finally be successful after dozens of failed suicide attempts.  The nights of drinking until oblivion and taking a handful of pills before passing out hadn't worked, I chickened out the night I stood in a doorway with a belt around my neck for 2 hours, no more messing up, I knew how to do it this time and the plans were in place.

Ken and Laura arrived with sandwiches, water, and Gatorade.  I ate, stretched, and refilled my fluids and we hit the trail.  This was a nice change of pace, it was slower, I had people to talk with, and I wasn't thinking about me or why I was there.  I met Ken and Laura 2 years ago and they both became a huge part of my life right away.  Ken has taught me so much about myself and how to be a better me, I've watched him grow and become an amazing man.  Laura has been an endless supply of love, encouragement, and devotion from the very beginning, so when I asked her to marry me 3 months ago I knew that I was truly about to become the luckiest man alive.  To have them with me for this day reminded me just how possible this impossible feat was.

This was a slow climb, they both struggled at times, and it was just what I needed.  I told them, just keep your feet moving, deep breaths, get some water, eat a snack, let's keep going.  At one point Ken looked up to the next blaze about 50 feet overhead and said "I don't think I can do it" I asked him if he was concerned about where the blaze was and he said yes, I said "don't worry about that rock up there, just step up on this one here", "one step at a time" he responded, and made his way up.  We hit the top around noon, 2nd summit on the day.  They were tired and wanted to rest, but the longer I sat the worse I felt, I was crashing, I had to keep moving.  So reluctantly they got up and headed down with me.  This meant a lot to me, they were pushing themselves beyond their comfort to help me succeed.  Such love and selflessness.  The descent was slow, by the time we reached the fire road I had decided I needed to break off, the day was passing by and I still had another round to go.  I said thank you and took off.

With Laura on my 2nd summit

I was back to the car around 2 pm, grabbed a sandwich, took a bathroom break, stretched, refilled my fluids, and was heading back up.  I can only imagine the thoughts in the people's heads whom I had just ran by moments earlier and was now heading back up.  The reality is they probably thought nothing of it, I still have this idea that people think about me all the time.  I'm really not that important.

The final climb was tough, my legs were tired, it was hotter than earlier, and I really had to conserve water this time.  By the time I hit the scramble the exhaustion was kicking in.  I refused to check my tracker or clock as time and miles were no longer important, getting to the top was the only goal right now.  I came upon the same spot Ken struggled at earlier and my mind went right back to our conversation, "don't worry about that rock up there, just step up on this one here...one step at a time".

3rd summit

It was around this time that it truly occurred to me why I was here today.  Why things were exactly the way they were supposed to be.  Why I was alive.  To recount that moment 4 years earlier, and to share my story.  The night was August 31st, 2015 exactly 4 years prior.  You see, the date didn't line up in my head until I was nearing the end of this painfully tough day.  4 years earlier to the day, I was planning to finally take my life, now here I was participating in an event to raise money for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.  Something happened in the early morning hours of August 31st 2015 and I reached out to someone and said "I need help, I need to go to a meeting, and don't let me back out".  I went to a 12 step meeting that night instead of taking my life.  2 days later I would wake up and say "enough is enough" and have not picked up a drink or a drug since.

My life has changed drastically over the last 4 years, but more so over the last 2 since I got in to mountain climbing.  This new hobby has taken me all over the country and literally saved my life.  2 years ago with 2 years of sobriety I was still struggling with suicidal thoughts but was determined to live.  I finally got medical help and haven't had those thoughts since.  You can read more on that in last year's blog post here.

I started to descend the mountain and that's when the emotions kicked in.  This was the mountain that started it all.  As a kid I was supposed to hike it with my dad, but I didn't care about him, or mountains, I cared about Matt and drugs and death.  My father hiked this mountain over 25 times, and this day was my 25th, 26th, and 27th times hitting the summit, but I've never done it with him.  He's unable to do it now and every time I'm there, I wish he was with me.  My father has never given up on me, and always supported me, told me when I'm acting crazy, and told me he loves me.  Our relationship has grown significantly since I started climbing mountains and I think of him often while I'm out there.  Just as soon as the emotions came, so did the cramps, and again so did the "one step at a time".  I finally made my way down to find Laura waiting for me with the car.  I did it!

Training run up Old Rag 6 days before

So many people throughout the day had asked questions, gave encouragement, but there is one man I will always remember.  Back down at the car a gentleman stopped and congratulated me, but thanked me multiple times for what I had done.  I don't know how this effected this man, but I know how it effected me.  God kept me here for a reason, even when I didn't understand, or want it, even when I hated Him for it.  I will never know the full extent, but I know I live a damn good life today and am blessed beyond measure.  I know I have a story, and I have an obligation to tell that story.  I want people to know the impossible is possible, life is worth living, you are worth it, you're not alone, and as one of my favorite songs says, life is beautiful.

This year I raised over $1,000 for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, you can still donate here.  My final numbers for my climb were over 23 miles and almost 7,000 feet of elevation gain.  I don't know what the future holds, but I do know laying in bed that night Laura said "I hope you're not going to try and do it 4 times next year" I burst in to laughter and said "well, I was actually thinking about doing it sooner".

46 Climbs - Climbing To Conquer Suicide

My baby boy and love of my life.  My son Nicholas

I started out climbing as a way to get out of the house and start to view the world around me.  In the 32 years prior I had never really taken the time to appreciate the world for what it was.  I had no clue where it would take me, or what I would learn, but I did know I was sick and tired of sitting around saying "there's nothing to do".

My climbing career thus far has been an interesting one.  In the first 6 months I sustained 2 knee injuries, multiple bear and snake encounters, traveled damn near across the country, and yet the worst thing I faced was looking back at me in the mirror.  I have always been a quitter.  Plain and simple.  I'm a spoiled little brat.  I had to have people around, I couldn't do anything too hard, and my mind was always telling me I wasn't good enough.

You can't quit in the backcountry.  Well, you can, but I have harmed enough people in my life, I wouldn't do that in my new found venture.  So when I was 8 miles out in the woods, I had to walk 8 miles back.  Commitment; success number one.  Though the woods gave me a sense of oneness with my Creator, I still had that inner battle and would just 4 months in to my climbing career be contemplating suicide yet again, for the umpteenth time over the course of 22 years.  I finally broke down and went and saw my doctor.  He prescribed me with an anti-depressant and told me to keep active.

At the time I was jobless, I knew without a miracle I was to lose my house.  I had already blown up one vehicle and my second one was on it's last leg.  I took the meds and headed back in to the woods.  3 weeks later, after bagging Mount Mitchell in North Carolina, the highest point east of the Mississippi, I promptly blew out my knee on the descent.  Sidelined, I can't even catch a break in life.  Yet I continue with the meds, and tried to stay as active as possible.  A few weeks later it occurred to me that I was sad.  I sudden sense of relief came over me.  I was sad.  I was sad!!!  I had never felt sad before, just depressed.  I was the happiest sad person to grace this planet.

For the first time in my life I was down about something, but knew it would get better, and even more so, I didn't think about eating a bullet sandwich.  I celebrated by continuing on the meds and began rehabilitating my knee.  It finally healed and my mind began healing as well.

Nicholas' first 46er

Enter 46 Climbs.  46 Climbs is a national event where people pledge to climb certain mountains to raise money for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.  Now here is something I can get behind, or in front of.  I immediately signed up and went to work trying to raise funds.  I figured I'd kick it off myself and donate $25 to my fund.  I made Facebook post after Facebook post, and slowly the dollars started coming in.  Mostly family and my closest friends, but they came in.  I found a greater purpose than myself.  I know how it feels to be doing everything and still be hopeless, I also know how it feels when they finally goes away.  I want others to feel that too.  And here is my chance.

Last Friday we set out for the Adirondacks for my climb.  I was $116 shy of my goal of $500 but that didn't matter, I was heading to the place I love, the mountains.  My climbing partner and son in tow.  What more could I ask for?  As we headed up the road I got an email saying I had another donation.  I checked and it was the final $116 needed to hit my goal.  I was elated.  I had never done anything like this before, and here it was being a total success.  In to the woods we go!!

My son and I celebrating

We climbed our hearts out and bagged 2 of the 3 peaks I was hoping for.  Due to circumstances we had to leave the 3rd, another thing I've learned, it's ok to fail.  But did we fail?  We made the effort, I raised the money, my entire climb was devoted to a stranger, someone I may never meet, but someone I could help by living.  And living I did, and continue to do.  I came home with a new attitude toward climbing.  Remembering what it has done for me.  Where it has taken me.  Who I have met, and who I have not.  The mountains are big, the challenge is hard, sometimes you fail, sometimes you succeed, sounds a lot like life.

I will continue to climb, and I will continue to take part in 46 Climbs.  I will continue to pursue foundations and causes to help.  These mountains have saved my life, why can't they save someone else's?

My donation page for my 46 Climbs event page is still up.  You can read more of my personal story there and some of the other struggles I have faced in life.  You may also still donate.  Every dollar helps.  Thanks and God bless!!