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.

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".

My 46er Journey - Part 3 - Macomb Mountain

Starting out on the trail to Macomb Mountain

I've spent the majority of my life living in Virginia, our "harsh winters" consist of a few snowflakes, cold rain, and dead everything.  When I was 15 years old I spent a year at a boarding school in the mountains of Pennsylvania and got my first taste of a real winter, but nothing like the true winters I have always dreamed about.  As a kid I loved Christmas, this trend continued for years until it lost it's novelty, and I just became a lonely Grinch.  I had decided that 2017 was going to be different.  You see, I had been out of work for a few months due to an injury sustained on Mount Mitchell in September, coupled with my depression and just daily struggles.  I finally had a job offer and was anxiously waiting for it to come through.  In the meantime, Dan and I planned a trip to Mount Mitchell for some winter climbing.  While rehabbing my knee and gathering up the necessary gear for our adventure, our focus shifted to the Adirondacks once again.

We finally made a decision to go and try our hand at a true winter climbing experience, and experience it was going to be.  We planned to head up for a weekend in the Adirondacks.  As the day approached we closely monitored the weather only to see the chances of snow stay steady.  We were committed, and still a bit ignorant.  Okay, we were very ignorant, but we were determined to conquer the Dix range.  You can commence laughing now.

At the trail head

Snowshoes, microspikes, 8 meals...each, stove, gloves, jackets, and a partridge in a pear tree (hey, it was Christmas) in hand we hit the road, ADK bound.  The trip was long as usual, but we were stoked to hit the trail.  We got to the Elk Lake parking lot around 1 am and decided to catch some Z's before hitting the trail.  As we settled in to the car it started to snow.  For this southern boy, it was truly magical.  We awoke around 6 am and started to gear up, layers, and layers, and layers.  Imagine Ralphy from A Christmas Story.  That was us.  We started the trudge through the 2 inches of fresh powder toward the trail head.  Great conversation, and heavy packs.  We reached the trail head and signed in around 7 am.  We were passed by a group of 5 heading to finish their winter 46.  After a few too many minutes long farting around taking pictures my hands were going numb.  Less than an hour in to this, and my hands were numb.

So here is that wonderful plot twist.  6 years earlier I had caught hypothermia one night, this was during my wonderfully successful drinking career.  I fell in a puddle in 15° weather one night and by the grace of God was found and treated.  I had never told anyone about that night out of the shame of the situation, but here I was, in single digit weather, with numb hands, heading in to the wilderness.  Do I swallow my pride and inform my partner of my situation, or continue to keep my experience a secret.  I opted to inform him of my situation.  Because once you catch hypothermia once, you're more susceptible to catching it again, and if that happens, my life is literally in his hands.  This was also good because it allowed me to start to remove some of that shame I had carried.  That is a major part of this recovery journey, and things I have learned literally, in the woods.

We carried on my hands warmed up thanks to Dan's mittens and some hand warmers, but my pride began to heal too.  We reached the Slide Brook Lean-To and decided to cook.  We made a breakfast and learned just how rough this cooking in the winter was to be.  It took forever to boil the water and while we waiting, everything started to freeze.  Welcome to the North Rebel child.

After breakfast we again hit the trail.  Destination Macomb Mountain, and the Macomb Slide.  We read about it, had seen some pictures, but we had no clue what we were in for.  As we made our way up the heard path we started to see this giant snow covered opening going up the mountain, "That's where we're going??  Uh oh...".  As the path led us to the slide and we first made our way out on to this open expanse of snow, the adrenaline started.  We slogged our way out on to it and then suddenly the earth gave way beneath me.  Or so it felt, you see there was about 5 feet of snow in some of these spots.  And without caution, or the snowshoes which were securely strapped on my pack, you sink right in.  "Here we go" I thought.

When I was in middle and high school, I had made a deal with my Uncle.  I would read X amount of books and write a report on them and he would take me on a trip.  One of the books I read was Jon Krakauer's "Into Thin Air".  From that moment on I dreamed of climbing Mount Everest, until the drugs and alcohol became my obsession at least.  Looking up the Macomb Slide and planning my zig-zag route up, there I was with Rob Hall, heading up the Lhotse Face of Everest.  I was back to being that 13 year old kid with huge aspirations again, with the same level of ignorance.  Putting on my best Sir Edmond Hillary face I began the trek up the slide.  "One foot in front of the other, watch for avalanches, just keep moving, you can do this!!" I repeated over and over.  The snow was still falling and it seemed the mountain was still rising, but we eventually made it to the top of the slide.  Taking a moment to look back and how far we had come, we snapped some photos, sat down for a quick rest and carried on.

Summit of Macomb Mountain; 6 of 46

We finally made it to the summit, it was cold, snowy, and we were exhausted.  We had decided on the way up we were only getting one peak today.  So after a short celebration, we started to descend.  A quick stop at the Slide Brook Lean-To for food and we made the trek out.  What an adventure!!  We couldn't wait to get to the car.  There was so much more snow than when we left, which meant we had to shovel out.  Oops, we forgot about that.  Luckily we did expect it and brought a shovel, but didn't leave much energy to do so.  Thank God Dan had it in him to shovel us out, because I sure didn't.

We made our way to Queensbury and hit a McDonald's for food.  We decided to get a room for the night and spent the next day exploring Lake Placid.  It was a few days before Christmas and my love affair with winter in upstate New York had begun.  We made our way back home Christmas Eve due to some prior commitments, but were dead set to return, and a few days later we were back on our way...

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.

My 46er Journey - Part 1 - Gray, Skylight, and Marcy

On the summit of Skylight looking towards Mount Marcy

It was early July 2017 and we were packed in the car and heading north.  I had been to New York a few times in my life, but never outside of the city.  This time we were heading upstate.  I was excited for a week of camping with my friend, but apprehensive about the uncertainty of a new area, new people, and new experiences.  We had planned to hike one day while there as we had just started our hiking journey.  On the agenda, a 17 mile loop including Mount Marcy, the highest point in New York state.  No problem we thought.....if we only knew.

The dream team at Marcy Dam

The trip up was long, 10+ hours, but I slept, played on my phone, and talked about life with Dan.  We eventually made it to the camp ground and unloaded.  I met my new friends Dan and Jenn and their kids, was promptly titled "savage" by their son, and we settled in for the night with excitement and anticipation for our early start the next morning.

We headed out to the Adirondack Loj while it was still dark and got there about 6 am.  We suited up with our camera gear, snacks, water, and hit the trail.  2 miles in we arrived at Marcy Dam as the sun beams burst over the mountain tops.  Break one, we snapped some photos, took a selfie, and continued on our way.  Our route was to take us up to a place called Lake Arnold.  After a grueling trek uphill through boulders, roots, and mud, we arrived.  What a beautiful place!!  A small mountain lake with a gorgeous backdrop and cold water.  We rested, snacked, and took more photos before heading out again.

Lake Arnold

 Our next destination was a swamp we had read about but didn't exactly know what to expect.  When we got there we saw what appeared to be floating logs in the clearest swamp water one could ever imagine.  As I stepped out for the first time and the log moved, so did my bowels.  I wasn't expecting that!!  We crossed the logs while laughing, joking, and simply enjoying life.  "What a great hike so far!!" I thought, "what's next!?!"

Crossing the floating logs

MISERY, absolute misery is what was next.  Before we go further, let me tell you about the Adirondack Mountains.  They suck!  They suck the life out of you, they suck your energy, your stamina, your sanity, and then they suck you in for more.  The routes and terrain is hard at best, miserable is a more accurate description.  They beat you up, and kick you while you're down, and then beckon you to come back for more, which you do.

Back to our journey; about 24 miles later of our 17 total mile hike we came to a place called Lake Tear of the Cloud.  This is the highest point of what eventually becomes the Hudson river, I know the Hudson from my trips to the city so this was an interesting place for me.  We settled down for a break and a lunch of our new found favorite meal of Ramen noodles with tuna fish (don't knock it 'til you've tried it).  After lunch we geared up and headed up the heard path that leads to our first summit.  Along the way we encountered a rock with about a 15 foot drop down, this ain't no trail!!  We scrambled down and continued up the mountain.  Summit!!  We made it, little did I know, this would become 1 of 46.  More selfies and photos and back down the mountain.  Off to our next destination.

At the top of Gray Mountain; 1 of 46

Four Corners is an intersection on the south side of Mount Marcy in between her and Skylight mountain.  We were getting tired and decided to only carry our cameras up Skylight.  We hid our packs and headed up.  And up.  And up.  Rocks, boulders, roots, elves, you name, we climbed over it, until we finally saw the sign informing us we were in the Alpine zone.  Alpine zone!?!?!  Did we miss a turn and end up in Alaska?  Nope!  "Welcome to upstate New York southern boy" is what it should have read.  The summit of Skylight was amazing; 2 of 46.  The clouds were moving in so the views weren't that great but the exposed rock and alpine vegetation was beautiful it self.  More pictures, more selfies, Dan got in his underwear to strike a yoga pose, and all was well in the world.  Time to descend.

Skylight Mountain; 2 of 46

Pain, that was the story of this descent.  You see, back in May I had hurt my knee on Old Rag Mountain back home, it was feeling better, until now.  I struggled down the mountain and called for a break.  I was 8 miles from the car, and in serious pain.  I was running low on food, and would not force these guys to carry me out.  You see, that's another thing about the Adirondacks, you can't give up out here.  You have to pursue, you have to dig deep, you have to overcome.  I took some Advil, stretched it out, and grabbed my pack.  We still had a mountain to climb, literally and metaphorically.  Begin the trek up Mount Marcy.  Our original reasoning in selecting this particular hike.  Up and up, back in to Alpine zone.  Back above tree line, "we can see the top!!  Oh wait, that's not it!".  Up and up some more.  We struggled up the mountain, it was tough, it was steep, we were tired.

Mount Marcy summit; 3 of 46

We finally reached the top; 3 of 46.  Nothing but clouds, wind, and cold.  I'm from Virginia, cold and July don't go in the same sentence, not the case up here.  Cold and July go hand in hand.  More selfies, a huge celebration, a group hug, and while standing on the top of New York state, I asked myself, "how the hell did I get here?".  22 months prior I tried to get sober, again.  It had been a life long struggle, and finally at wits end, I decided to do whatever it took to get and stay sober.  Part of that included doing things I had never done before.  I never hiked, or climbed, or met new people.  That's not me, or so I thought.  22 months prior I wanted to die, until I woke up one morning and wanted to live.  I had climbed my own personal Mount Marcy prior to even hearing of Mount Marcy, but here I was on top of both of them, even if just for a moment.  This is living, this is it, what's next!?!

We descended Mount Marcy, 7 miles to go to get back to the car.  Wait, 7 miles!?!?  We had already been out here for close to 10 hours, and we still have 7 miles to go!?!  The descent was long, tiring, I was out of food, and my legs were melted Jello.  Nothing left, but again, I had to make it out.  We finally got back to the car around 9 pm.  It was a long, exhausting, and rewarding day.  We made it back to camp with the experience of a lifetime, countless stories, pictures, and though I didn't know it then, a new goal in life.  Become a 46er.

So this is where the Adirondacks and I first meet.  Our love affair has began.  I currently sit at 17 of 46 in September 2018 with a finish goal of January 2020.  I will write about my other 7 trips to upstate New York, as well as document my future ones too.

It's been a hell of a ride so far, so be sure to subscribe and follow along on this crazy journey life has taken me on.

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!!