Yesterday I climbed a mountain.
I actually am surprised as I write this that my fingers are fully functioning and not as sore and tired as every other fiber of my body is.
I am proud to report, however, that it was the first mountain I ever summitted and despite the sorry state of my muscles, it was a thrilling experience. And it was especially satisfying because Chris and I had tried this trail previously and didn’t even make it a quarter of the way through. (That was a snowy, injurious trip to say the least.)
But that’s not to say it was an easy go this time. No, certainly not.
We woke up at 4:30 yesterday morning and we were on the road by 5:30 a.m. The ride to Franconia Notch (White Mountains in NH, where we hiked,) is about 2-2.5 hours from Boston but there was little traffic at the time (only crazies are up before sunrise on a Saturday,) so we started on the trail around 7:45.
It was grueling.
But worth it.
We originally thought that our loop was only hitting 2 peaks, but we actually made it to three before descending. It was freezing up there but the view was amazing. By the time we got to the third peak, a cloud had engulfed it and it reminded me of being on a ship in the middle of the ocean. It was just gray in every direction.
We did get to see a flag raising though. Trumpet and all.
We had the misfortune of taking the wrong trail back down, however, and ended up in the middle of a rain storm, three miles from where the car was parked. Let me tell you, I’ve never been so tired in my life.
Despite what mishaps we may have encountered, I’m psyched we did it. Now on to the next! Kidding, so kidding. I can barely walk down stairs right now. I’m really diggin’ sea level stuff. Like sitting and beds and naps. But I’ll get back out (up?) there eventually. Let me stop wishing I had a walker to help me get around first.