This past weekend I had the privilege of climbing Mount Washington in New Hampshire with my boyfriend and his extended family in memorial of his late uncle. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Mt. Washington as I was before the climb here’s some general information: Mt. Washington is the highest peak in the Northeast, its summit is 6,288 feet. It is surrounded by the beautiful and extensive White Mountain National Forest (750,000 acres). I am not a hiker. In fact, my childhood self-detested the outdoors and would much rather be shopping than trekking through the wilderness. As I’ve grown in age, I’ve also grown in wisdom and realized the outdoors isn’t so bad after all.
I’m in a relationship with someone who expands my horizons in wonderful ways and climbing this mountain would have been impossible without his smiles and words of encouragement. While I still wouldn’t say that I’m a total lover of the great, outdoors my appreciation has certainly grown, especially when I see my best friend in his element and the pure joy that radiates outward.
Climbing Mt. Washington was the most difficult physical challenge I have ever encountered and it made the accomplishment of completing the hike that much more fulfilling. Climbing up the mountain tested my muscles in ways they had never been tested before. I thought I was in good shape, but clearly there’s a difference between being in good shape and good hiking shape. On the descent, it was a new level of difficulty as my joints felt as thought they were slamming together with each step. There were times when I thought my legs were going to fall off, sending me tumbling down the mountain, but my body and mind proved stronger than I suspected. It was amazing to see how many people were on the trail either climbing up or coming down -- there were even a few dogs, and a guy in sandals (which I would not advise and am not sure how he made it up the mountain dressed in such an unprepared fashion). Every hiker we passed by greeted us with smiles and warm hellos. I don’t know much about the hiking community, but it seems really welcoming. There is something so idyllic about sharing in the beauty of nature with strangers and friends alike. When I’d stop to catch my breath, I’d look and see how far I had come, how far I had yet to go, and how absolutely stunning my surroundings were. Trying to describe the views I experienced is impossible -- it’s really that stunning and photos do not do it justice!
Mt. Washington is known for its unpredictable weather so dressing in layers was essential -- even though it was June, it didn’t feel like summer on the mountain. At the summit my teeth were chattering despite the multiple layers of clothing I added to the warmth of the shelter, an enclosed space where hikers gathered to eat and rest before making the downward trek.
When the full adventure had come to a close I felt extremely accomplished and proud, I had just climbed a mountain, and I didn’t injure myself doing it (which is an accomplishment in and of itself given my innate clumsiness)! I went to bed at 8 p.m. that night and slept with such peace, my legs relishing in the rest. A week later and I’m (embarrassingly) still a little sore, but I’d do it all over again. To quote the Hannah Montana movie, “Life’s a climb, but the view’s great.” Go out there and climb your mountain -- figurative or literal.
