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 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