On the morning of the climb, I awoke at 4:50 a.m. The adrenaline was already pumping. I thought about getting up and doing pushups or something, but I laid there and tried to get more sleep. My youngest son was in the next bed, and I looked at him and thought about how just before we went to sleep he told me how proud he was of me. That made me feel good.
After a half hour, I dozed briefly, and dreamed that the neighbors near the nursing home painted graffiti on my office windows that said “No more KFC”, because apparently I had bought KFC for the staff and they littered the neighborhood with wrappers and buckets. I’m no psychologist, but dreaming of fried chicken while trying to lose weight doesn’t need much interpretation.
Before we checked out of the hotel, Tim led me in some leg stretches that he had learned in gym class. I was impressed.
We met the older boys at the entrance to the mountain road. They had started driving at 6 a.m., and arrived at the same time. We started our climb at 9:15, heading up the White Dot trail, the 1.9 mile, most direct route to the top. About 15 minutes into the hike I began to wonder why I wanted to do it. My heart was beating hard and I was really exerting myself. After a quick break I began to get acclimated, and David was doing a great job of encouraging me to go at my own pace. As we reached the first clearing we took time to admire the view and to appreciate what a beautiful day we had for the climb.
There are a few steep areas that are all rock, and you need to use your hands, so it is not just simply walking uphill. As we got closer to the top I was feeling more energized, although I had to take a break about 15 minutes from the summit. In retrospect, I don’t think I had been drinking enough water to that point, and I had not had a snack (not counting the four black flies that flew into my mouth). After a long drink and some protein we tackled the last leg to the top.
It amazed me how well I could remember different parts of the trail from my aborted attempt 6 years earlier. I recognized the point where I told the other climbers to go on, that I had decided to go back, and then I continued, by myself, to what is called the “adult summit” or “false summit”.
This time, there would be no turning back. Between my sons and my sherpa, there was a lot of positive encouragement, and I knew I was in much better condition, aerobically and physically, than on my first attempt. I thought of all those who had contributed money to the Elmhurst Eden Fund, and those who said they had been inspired by my effort and were attempting to lose weight. I also thought of the Elders who had promised to say a prayer for me.
The summit was very windy. When we started our climb it was 51 degrees. The top, we were told by a ranger, was 35. I had to put my hat away because of the wind, and we all put fleeces or sweatshirts on within minutes of arriving there. The view was fantastic, although we saw some ominous clouds in the distance. We were 3165 feet up.
We took some photos, and then found shelter behind some large rocks, where we ate our peanut butter sandwiches and stretched out before heading back down. I texted my friend Jeff Mason in Columbia, South America, who had been one of the first people to encourage my healthy lifestyle, and shared with me that I would be climbing on his birthday. “Happy Birthday from the top of Monadnock!” I wrote. Then, I sent a group email to the staff of Elmhurst. I called my wife, who was equally shocked that I had phone service at the summit, and that we were already at the top at noon.
In some ways I regret not going back to stand on the top a second time, but we were concerned about the clouds, and I sensed that everyone wanted to push on. I also didn’t have the presence of mind to have a photo taken with all three boys at the summit.
I had this sense of melancholy, that I was there for perhaps the one and only time in my life. I don’t know why I felt that, but I did. So, we started back down, choosing the White Cross trail, which is 2.1 miles, and, allegedly, is the least steep descent. If going up was a challenge for my heart and lungs, going down was tougher for my lower back and knees. We were making good time, but only because gravity was pulling us. By the time we were halfway down, each step was becoming painful, as all of my weight was crashing down on my lower limbs. With a rock surface, there is no “give”, nothing to absorb that force other than your body, and I was getting tired.
There was a husband and wife, older than me, who were on the same trails at about the same time. They argued loudly, as the wife attempted to advise the husband which way he should climb, and the husband would snarl at her and tell her he knew what he was doing, The kids nicknamed him “Reckless Joe” because he just kept coming, whenever we turned around he was there.
On the way up we encountered a number of climbers who were coming back down and would encourage us by saying “Almost there!”, “The hardest part is over”, so we did the same thing to others, especially those who wore facial expressions of fatigue or exasperation.
Near the bottom we began to feel raindrops. Now, the end of the trail couldn’t come fast enough. I thought about the end of the Rocky movie, where Apollo Creed tells Rocky that there won’t be a rematch. I felt the same way at that moment about Monadnock. It beat me once, but now we were even.
We reached the parking lot, and I went into the park store to buy a hat that said “I climbed Mount Monadnock”. A ranger was on the radio announcing that a band of severe weather was going to force the closure of the summit. Just then it started to thunder, and pour. I was thankful that we were done. Had I been 100 yards from the top when they closed the summit, I think I would have continued, and it would have taken several rangers with tranquilizer darts to take me down.
The drive home seemed to take forever, but we actually made great time. Kirsten had balloons tied to the lampost in our driveway, and had invited friends over for drinks and food. Since it was a school night, everyone had to leave on the earlier side, but I could have celebrated all night. This goal, that I announced on January 1, 2008, had been achieved, thanks to so many people, who supported me and would not let me fail.
It has now been four days since Monadnock, and the soreness has finally left my legs. I exercised this morning, and probably will go to the Y tonight. Several people have asked “what’s next?” and I find myself asking the same thing. I know I need to set another goal soon. It will involve more weight loss and a physical challenge, but it will not be a fundraiser, and there probably won’t be a blog involved.
I believe, however, that I will stand on the summit of Monadnock again. The feeling of achievement, and attaining that goal, has overshadowed the pain in my knees and back.
So if you’re interest in going for a hike with me sometime…
