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.

My 46er Journey - Part 6 - Lower WolfJaw Mountain

Dan atop Roostercomb Mountain

2017 was such a great year, I learned and accomplished so much, and came so far from that trip to Boston for New Years.  I was learning to love myself, and learning to love those around me.  It had taken over 2 years of hard emotional, mental, and spiritual work to get to this point and it was beginning to pay off.  A few weeks after our return from New York we were back in the car and heading to the great white north again.

This time we had a traveling partner.  I had just started seeing this wonderful girl and had asked her to tag along with us, to which she agreed.  Little did I know in just a few short months she would become one of the greatest mountains I was to climb to date.  You see, she kind of snuck right on in during this journey, I was so focused on trying to right myself and accomplish some goals, I didn't even see it coming.

The trip north this time was an interesting one.  It was cold and rainy when we left Virginia.  The forecast was calling for snow so we got an early start expecting a longer than usual trip.  I drove the first few hours till the weather started changing at which point I asked Dan to drive.  The miles progressed, and so did the hours.  I fell asleep only to wake up many hours from our destination and the sun rising.  We were in an all our winter storm.  My confidence in Dan's driving was high, until it was time to merge back on to the interstate.  There was a truck barreling down and we needed all the momentum we could muster to get up the hill and on to clean pavement, slowing down to merge we finally came to that dreaded stop, in 8 inches of fresh unplowed snow.  And stop we did.  After what seemed an eternity, Dan got us going and on to the highway.  Around 10am we finally rolled in to Queensbury to check in to our hotel.  They graciously let us check in early and we headed in to town for food.

Laura and I in Keene, NY

This trip was quite different from any of the others.  I don't know if it was having a gorgeous girl on my arm, or the lobster bisque at the small town shop we stumbled upon, but I was feeling pretty good.  We explored the town and headed back to the hotel, we had a long day ahead of us tomorrow as we were set to begin our assault on the Great Range, an approximately 12 mile long stretch of 7 peaks over 4,000 feet.  Often regarded as one of the toughest traverses in the lower 48, we were heading to make our mark and begin our attempt to complete it, not in one shot though.  We knew it was going to be tough, but we were up for the challenge.

The next morning we woke and headed toward the trailhead, after gearing up and being seen off by my beautiful new friend, Dan and I hit the trail.  It was an average winter day in the Adirondacks, about 10° at the trailhead, with sub-zero temps expected at elevation.  We felt good, strong, and motivated.  The trail was unbroked with the exception of a path left by one curious and generous little rabbit.  We made our way up and up and up.  This was one of our easiest climbs yet up here and we felt great, we finally summitted Lower Wolfjaw Mountain.  We decided to leave Upper Wolfjaw for another time and take a different route back in to Keene.  This route would lead us to Roostercomb Mountain.  We weren't terribly excited about this as it wasn't a 46er, but decided to bag it anyways.  We didn't regret this decision.  Roostercomb turned out to be a spectacular little peak with amazing views.  We stood there for about 30 minutes taking photos and just reveling in how far we had come.

We headed back down and towards the Noonmark Diner.  Dan was able to get a call out from the summit of Wolfjaw to tell Laura to meet us there at a certain time.  We wandered in, shed some layers, and ordered about 20 cups of coffee a piece.  We talked about the day, asked Laura how her trip to Lake Placid was, and relaxed from the day.

The drive home was just as long as the drive up, but mostly from exhaustion and not weather.  I spent a lot of time during this trip wondering about what was happening with this beautiful new lady in my life.  It was a confusing time for myself, I also knew I had some personal things going on within myself and back at home that I feared would push her away.  I had no clue what it was, but whatever it was felt good, and I wanted to hold on to it as long as possible.  We didn't talk much on the ride home, but once home life was beginning to change, and for once, I was ok with change.

My 46er Journey - Part 5 - Cascade and Porter Mountains

On the summit of Cascade Mountain; 9 of 46

After the thrill of conquering Giant Mountain we headed back to our hotel to thaw out and relax a little.  It was a long, cold, tiring day and a hot shower and sleep were definitely in order.  The temperature was supposed to be a little warmer the next day, but still well below 0°.  We had plans to head back out to climb then to head across the state to visit Dan's friend Dan who had joined us on our first hike in the Adirondacks.  I was excited to see him and his wife again and to just enjoy some time seeing the state.

We slept good that night, and completely overslept for our early start time.  We finally got up and out of the hotel and headed back to the mountains.  Cascade and Porter Mountains are known to be the two easiest of the 46ers, so we knew the small parking lot would fill up quickly.  

Summit handstand on Porter Mountain; 8 of 46

Luckily we got there early enough to get a spot and get started on the trail.  I was surprised with how much easier the hike was than any of the other ones we had done.  It felt like we made it to the split in no time.  We headed right to go tag Porter Mountain first.  Up, down, and around through the pines.  There were a couple of spots with great views, but the sky still wasn't very clear.  We could see parts of the valley but not 100% of it.  We finally made it to the summit and topped it off with another handstand photo.

It was hovering around -15° so we knew we couldn't stay long, after a quick break we headed back towards the split.  Porter offered some great butt sliding on the descent and we were back to the split and heading up Cascade before we knew it.  It was a short spur up to the summit, and though definitely my easiest 46er so far, the summit of Cascade was really cool.  It is all exposed rock much like the summits of Marcy, Wright, Algonquin, and Skylight, but a lot easier of a hike.  I could easily see why most people start their 46er journey here.  We spent a little more time on Cascade's summit taking photos, and chatting with the ice climbers who had just scaled the mountain.  It was getting cold and there were no views so we headed back on down the mountain and to the car.

Dan leaving the summit of Cascade

The descent down Cascade was a weird one.  Dan and I got separated by a little bit of space as I was descending a little quicker than he was.  As I walked along the last mile and a half my mind began to wander.  As I spoke about in my last post, this Christmas season had been totally different than any before.  I was going through major changes in my life at this time, which brought on some confusion.  I don't know if it was being tired, walking through the woods alone, or just the culmination of the last few weeks events, but it all started to hit me like a ton of bricks.  Suddenly I just wanted to be out of the mountains and back home.  This has been a constant in the emotional roller coaster of change that these hiking journeys have brought on, and it would not be the last time I felt that way.

We had a long drive across the state ahead of us so once we were back to the car we loaded up and hit the road.  A quick stop at a McDonalds for food and to change in to some warm dry clothes and we were on our way.  We knew we were going to hit some snow so we wanted to make up as much time as we could from the beginning, and then the snow hit.  It was heavy and coming down hard.  Dan was having a tough time but he got us there safely.

Dan on the summit of Cascade Mountain

It was great to see Dan and Jenn again.  There are some people in this world that from the first moment you meet them that make you feel like you have known them forever, and this entire family are some of those people.  We got there late and didn't get to spend too much time catching up but I was happy to be out of the car and in a warm house.  We hit the hay pretty early for a good night's sleep.

We woke the next day and enjoyed the morning catching up with Dan and the kids.  They made us an amazing breakfast and then we suited up to head outside.  Snowmobile time!!  I had never seen a snowmobile in person, much less ridden on one.  All of that was about to change.  Dan went out and cut a trail through the fresh powder that had fallen the night before, then turned over the keys.  I was very hesitant at first, this was a heavy machine, and I'm a small guy, but a few trips around the house and I was starting to get comfortable with it.  We headed back to the field on the back of his property and he told us to go for it.  Dan was a lot more ballsy than I was at first.  I was still very hesitant.  It felt like as soon as I got up over 25 miles per hour it was going to throw me off, but eventually I got the hang of it.  We rode for what felt like hours, around in circles, it was like being a kid again on that brand new orange bicycle I got for Christmas one year.  I rode that thing in circles for days out in the street.  I could have done the same on the snowmobile.

We went in and got showers and packed back up.  It was getting a little later in the day and we had decided to head home.  It was New Years Eve and the thought of a new year and new journeys ahead had me excited to get back home.  2017 was an odd year for me.  It started in Boston during a trip I never thought I would take, and ended at home on my couch after 2 great trips to New York back to back.  I covered a lot of miles in 2017, on foot, in a car, and in the air.  I visited 13 states, logged 53 summits, felt 140° of different temperatures, made new friends, and conquered a lot of my own personal demons.  I had no clue what the next year might hold for me, but I made one promise to myself.  The next year I was going to go higher, faster, and farther.  Now to just figure out how.

My 46er Journey - Part 4 - Giant Mountain

Making our descent down Giant Mountain

Christmas 2017 was different for me than any other Christmas before.  10 years prior I spent Christmas morning curled up under the tree passed out from taking a bunch of pills the night before.  I wasn't able to wake up to see my 4 year old son open his presents or to open up my present from him, a picture frame with his picture in it that they had made at preschool.  My ex-wife and I had just split up but she had let me come by to be there Christmas morning, and that was the way I responded.  I knew it was to be the last time my family would be together, and at the time the pain was so great I felt it better to run from it than to deal with it.  That was around the time my addictions really started taking off, and that event was slowly trumped by many others and quickly fell in to a hidden area in the back of my mind.  I forgot about it and didn't talk about it until 9 years later.  I cherish that picture and have since come to terms with what happened that day and in the years to follow.

I hated Christmas after that, the season, the idea, the day, I wanted nothing to do with it.  I always sucked it up as best as possible to give my son a good Christmas, but even he knew just how much I didn't like it, though not really knowing why.  By Christmas 2017 though things were starting to change.  My perspective on life was better and for the first time in many many years I had something to look forward to that would help to drag my attention elsewhere, the Adirondacks.

In part 3 I talked about our trip up Macomb Mountain a few days before Christmas.  I came back home and spent Christmas eve and Christmas day being of service to others.  Others who may have gone through similar situations but were now trying to better their lives too.  I had experience to share, both good and bad, and I was able to do so.  I also knew that in just a few hours I would be back to the place where I really connect with God and find peace, the mountains.

Christmas on Old Rag summit

Before we headed back to New York though, Dan and I decided to take a trip up Old Rag here at home in Shendandoah National Park.  Old Rag was were this whole thing started for us, and we had made a decision to climb it at least once a month for an entire year.  We first climbed it on Easter morning, then on my birthday.  We climbed it Father's Day, and the day after my sobriety date.  My son and I went up it Thanksgiving morning, so Christmas Day seemed the logical choice.  It was a cold climb, but compared to what we were to encounter in a few hours, it felt like standing in Badwater Basin in July.  This also turned out to be my 50th summit since April 16th of that year.  As we descended I took a moment and stopped where we watched our first sunrise on the mountain, I didn't want to leave.  The peace that this journey had brought me was overwhelming and I just wanted to stay in that moment forever, I finally made my way down and back home to pack up for the long drive to New York.

We watched the weather again, it was to be drier this time, but the cold, that was a different story.  The north east is notoriously cold, but this week they were calling for an Arctic blast to come through that would plummet temperatures well below zero.  I was ready for this, or so I hoped.  I had ordered new mittens since our trip a few days earlier.  These were rated for -40° so in theory, my hands should be good this time.  As we made the drive north the temperatures went south.  Topping out at -9° when we got to our hotel to check in.  Nothing wakes you up quite as fast as the freezing air hitting your face, and I was in love.

We stopped by Wal-Mart and stocked up on foods for our weekend ahead.  We had planned to have a room 2 nights this time and bought food to help save money.  We had layers upon layers of clothes and were ready to tackle this beast they call Giant Mountain.  We woke up early and started getting ready and made the hour drive to the trailhead.  While gearing up it quickly became evident just how cold it was going to be that day by how quickly everything started to freeze.  We got ready as fast as possible and hit the trail.  Up and up and up.  We were both easily carrying 35+ pounds in our packs.  What we didn't consider with the cold temperatures was that once we started moving, our bodies would warm up, and we didn't need all the crap we had, but we were already in to this journey, and I wasn't going back down just to come back up, so we carried on.

The climb up Giant was tough.  The cold, the weight, the slope, the snow, it was a long slog but we carried on.  I noticed on the way up that the hair on my face around my mouth and nose was starting to form ice, this was a new one for me, and very cool.  Ice beards are a weird thing, something you take pride in.  Even more is the snot that rolls down uncontrollably and freezes helping to form more ice.  I guess it's like the lumberjack beard of mountaineers, but it's a truly unique experience that you learn to really enjoy.

My first summit handstand

About 3/4 of a mile from the summit we finally decided to drop our packs.  We were close enough that we knew we wouldn't need anything in them and if we got into trouble one person could quickly retrieve them.  We made it to the summit and the wind coming up from Keene Valley was relentless.  It was COLD!!  Temperatures were around -20° but with a windchill easily below -30°.  We celebrated and took some pictures before our cameras froze up, but one thing happened on the summit that would become a regular celebration for me.  Something told me to do a handstand.  I had not done a handstand in probably 20+ years, but hey, when in Rome right?  It took a few attempts but we finally got a picture of me doing a handstand.

Summit of Giant Mountain; 7 of 46

We headed back down the mountain using our new descent technique, the Adirondack Butt Slide.  One of the most fun things about climbing the Adirondacks in the winter is that EVERYTHING is covered in snow, including the rock and root filled terrain that you climb on in the summer.  So the logical and entertaining way to descend is to plop down on your ass and go!  Our laughter echoed through the woods and deep in to my soul.  I was having the time of my life, and it was still Christmas season.

We made the trip back to the hotel to rest and get ready for the next day, but all I could think about was how much fun it was to be at -30°, at Christmas, surrounded by snow, and at perfect peace with the person starring back at me in the mirror.  I had come a long way since that Christmas Day 10 years prior, I had conquered many other mountains before this Giant, and even before that first ascent up Old Rag 8 months prior.  I had many more mountains to go, but the journey so far had been quite amazing.  Dan fell asleep first that night, and as I laid there listening to him cut down a forest with snores I kept thinking about the recent events that had happened, knowing that this would be a Christmas I would always remember, and for good reasons this time.

Giant summit, looking down in to Keene Valley

My 46er Journey - Part 2 - Algonquin, Wright, and Marcy

At Marcy Dam on our way out

It was late August and as my typical summers go, I was miserable from the heat, but this particular summer was different.  It wasn't the hottest, or longest, or anything really, except I was struggling really bad with my depression.  I had already called off a few planned trips to Mount Mitchell and Spruce Knob.  I was struggling to get through each and every day just waiting to see my doctor.  A few weeks prior I had ventured in to the Adirondacks and the memory and serenity that it brought was still fresh in my mind.  My friend Dan and I were both going through some changes in life at the time and in a moment things just seemed to come to a breaking point for both of us.

It was a Tuesday afternoon and we decided we needed a break.  "How about Mt Mitchell?", "ehhh it's going to rain".  "Spruce Knob?  Mount Rogers?" we tossed back and forth.  "What about Marcy?" I said.  36 hours later we were in the car and heading north.  This was before we had a map of the high peaks, or a book, or any knowledge of really anything up there.  All we knew was we were heading to the Adirondack Loj and we were going to climb Marcy again.  We were probably 4 hours in to our 10 hour drive when we decided to knock of Algonquin and then head over to Marcy, still without a map.

I will take a moment to acknowledge that this was not one of our best ideas ever.  We were wildly ignorant to the wilderness and dangers that come along with Adirondack Park, we have since learned and actually bought a map and guide book, but not until after this part of my journey is completed.

Waterfall on the way up Algonquin

We landed at the Adirondack Loj parking lot around 4 am with intentions on sleeping for a few hours, but the adrenaline and excitement of being up all night and out of the Virginia heat and humidity drove us to grab our packs and hit the trails.  Less than a mile in we were at a trail junction and not sure which way to go, we guessed (again, we acknowledge our stupidity here).  We found our way and had only added about a half mile more to our trip.  We started towards Algonquin and hit a beautiful waterfall.  We took a break and snapped some photos, I fell in, but got a great shot.  Selfie, check, and on up the mountain we went.

When we arrived at the junction for Wrights Peak we decided to go ahead and do it since we were there.  Wrights was a great little climb, it was super windy and cloudy but we finally made it to the top.  We headed back down grabbed our packs and continued on to Algonquin.  The climb up Algonquin was tough, the toughest we had encountered thus far in the Adirondacks.  We slowly crept our way up to the top and promptly celebrated.  The clouds started to break and we got a few photos before heading down towards Lake Colden.  We knew the trek down was about 2 miles from a small printout we did have, but what we didn't realize was just how brutal that 2 miles was to be.  Step by step, stone by stone, we started down.  About a mile in we were gassed.  By this point we had been up since the previous morning and had nothing left.  We found a nice giant rock and nap time it was!!

Summit of Algonquin; 5 of 46

After a brief rest we carried on toward Lake Colden.  Beautiful is all I can say.  We marched around the lake and a few hours later, tired and hungry we finally found camp.  We set up the tent, made some grub, and settled in for the night.  We decided to get an early start the next morning.  Our plan was to try to make it to Marcy for sunrise, but without a map, we weren't really sure where we were or how far we had to go.  We started out around 2 am, we did know we had to head up Feldspar from our first trip and once we were there, we knew we were there.  Still tired and struggling from dehydration I was leading the way until I finally lost my balance and fell.  Dan called it at that point that we needed to rest and I needed water.  I curled up on the side of the trail and Dan pumped water from a puddle and cooked breakfast.  Around 7 am rehydrated and with a full belly we were back on our way.  We trekked our way back retracing our steps from our first hike and finally made our way up the south side of Marcy again.  There's just something about ascending that mountain that way that makes it truly magical.

Napping on our descent

It was cold on this ascent, around 30 degrees on the summit that day, though we didn't care.  We ate it up.  After about an hour we decided to head down and get back home.  We made our way out in great time.  Stopped for lunch and had great conversation.  About a mile before Marcy Dam we encountered this young couple whom we will never forget.  There we were feeling all bad ass from our trek and forgetting how unprepared we really were, these two kids walked by.  The poor girl carrying a Wal-Mart tent still in the box and the guy carrying an emoji pillow (you can't make this up).  They asked how far they were to the top and when we said they were still about 4 miles away they seemed deflated.  We carried on joking about how unprepared they were and how great of mountaineers we were (mountaineers carry maps, yes, I know this now).

We got back to the car and made our way back home.  36 hours in the woods, a great story, and we were now at 5 of 46 peaks.

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!!