The human spirit hits
that inevitable natural high of liberation at 6pm each Friday, the feeling having brewed over the confinement of 5 days at the office. After a gruesomely painful work week, your mind quickly shifts focus to
the two free days of utter enjoyment that ensue. The habitual Monday-Friday
consists of waking up early, absorbing countless stressful hours at the office,
trying to eat unsavory healthy foods, gym, dinner, then finishing it off by
reading, writing, or watching sports.
It's difficult for the
human species to exist in such a translucent jail cell as the workplace, but without it,
it's even more difficult to live. As in have money to buy food and shelter. All of these symbolic walls of corporate confinement crumble during the weekends, though. It’s hard to imagine a life without this freedom, and in my
opinion this freedom should be increased at least another day but due to the
norms of society there's nothing to do but take advantage of our free weekends and
utilize them to the utmost when available. While there are a plethora of bars
and female temptresses in NYC, always enjoyable, it becomes slightly
mundane to continue this same routine. This quest for a more diverse, more enlightened mentality has led to an
exploration of new experiences. During this summer I've visited the
botanical gardens, I walked the highline, I experienced the Tribeca film festival, and even went out a few times in Williamsburg. My point is that I've been trying to experience more than just the standard "sit around a bar and hit on girls
while getting as shitfaced as physically possible".
As an ambitious man, the
goal is always to overcome new challenges in order to attain the next level.
While recovering from a few injuries, I was sent an email by one of my good
friends from college, Dean Moriarty we'll call him, regarding an epic traverse that would
encapsulate the top peaks in the White Mountain Range. He wanted to not only
hike the Presidential Traverse, he wanted to do it in one day. The
Presidential Traverse is around a 20-23 mile hike with 7 summits, mostly above
the tree line in New Hampshire and usually takes 2-3 days. While they were
training for an upcoming crack at Mt. Rainier, I was trying to regain some
health and endurance that was lost due to a few weeks' recovery from a leg injury.
So finally, that Friday
came and the normal pre-hike emotions set in. Confidence is a necessity,
but even the most prepared feel a slight degree of fear inserted by
inadequateness when preparing to fight the power of Mother Nature. I hiked Mt.
Whitney last year but I was in way better shape and while the summit was a little more than double that of Mt. Washington’s summit, the highest on the traverse, the hike was not as long and we spread it over 2 days. Mt. Washington is also known for having the most turbulent weather
in the world.
So we started our trek
north by taking the bus to my boy’s stop which was Tuxedo, a little
over an hour long. As a true New Yorker, I feel that I have a strong grasp of
the city but Port Authority still eludes me. It’s a giant goddamn maze that's also
the portal between the city and suburbs. Honestly, I have no real desire to
experience the traffic to and from the city on a normal basis and thus don't
fret over my lack of understanding it. I have a hard enough time maneuvering
through the city, let alone trying to escape it. So finally arriving at the
appropriate stop, we are greeted by Dean’s younger brother. So at this point,
we have Dean, an enlightened liberal who has a strong desire to move outside of
the concrete jungle and would rather reside in a world of tall trees than skyscrapers;
Dean’s younger brother Jon Snow, as he resembles the GAME OF THRONES actor Kit Harington, and
has decided to leave a life of NY comfort and move to Europe (A lot nicer than the
North Wall); and Albert Einstein, a triathlon runner who obtained a PHD in
engineering at the ripe old age of 26. So here was our initial crew: Dean, Jon,
‘Bert, and myself, driving up to dominate a hike that, besides requiring
extensive endurance, also has a reputation for possessing the most violent conditions in
the world. FUCK. We would soon learn firsthand the volatility of Mother Nature.
Our big trip up north
started at 5:30pm after a pit-stop at Dean’s home in order for him to collect
his gear. After driving for a few hours we stopped at a rest stop that
contained $27 foot long lobster rolls. Not only did we not want to spend that
much money, we knew that in no way would seafood rest quietly in our stomachs
while exerting ourselves to the extent we planned on during the next day. Also,
who the fuck trusts a lobster roll from a truck stop, seriously? After a quick
sandwich, we bought plain rolls at a price that was most likely made up by the
staff and continued the adventure. At around 8:45 Dean realized that he
forgot the only true necessity to accomplish this hike, his boots. He was
wearing shoes that would probably be more fitting for reenacting Peter Pan than
hiking a mountain. After pulling over on the side of the highway to do a more
extensive search, he came to the conclusion that while at home he had left them about 5 feet away from the car in the garage. So quick troubleshooting by none
other than ‘Bert and his trusty iPhone, he was able to find a Sports Authority
at a mall 4 miles away.
After rushing there to beat the 9:30 close time, Dean was able to buy a cheap pair of
$50 boots. All was not lost. So now at this point it's 9:30 and we had
another 3 hours left (or so we though) on what turned out to be the trip from
hell. Not only were we driving for hours confined in this vehicle, but soon we
would have to subject our bodies to the Bataan Death march. We stopped close to
the campsite to gas up for the second time and at this stage we came to realize
that only a mere hour or two of sleep would not be worthy of starting later and
thus finishing when it’s dark. So at the pit stop that would be an exceptional
location for a Rob Zombie film, we each bought copious amounts of coffee in
order to start the trek without the aid of rest. We also bought a plethora of
energy bars and beef jerky. While I'm not one to partake in vast amounts of
dried meats, there's nothing better than eating jerky when hiking. It’s what
men do. After a few calls to convince our fellow journeymen of our plan, we got
their tentative support.
So by 2:00am we arrived
near the location that they mentioned but they were not present. So we drove within
a mile radius of the location for around 30 minutes including driving into a
parking lot where the only vehicle present was a rape van. Seeing
how we were deep in a phone service black hole, we couldn't call and
eventually we stopped at where we thought they had mentioned to meet in hopes
they would come looking. Stuck in front of the main lodge for the campsite
that was obviously closed at 2:00am and without a cell phone, we were SOL. We
rummaged the car and found enough quarters for a few calls on ye’ ole payphone.
In the woods, without the usage of mobile electronics and forced to put change into a payphone
in front of a log cabin appearing building, we felt a little less like city
slickers. Thank god these phones of the past still exist there. Finally, after
further deliberation, his friends realized their mistake and drove the 6 miles
in order to retrieve us. This was on those fuckers.
The final two members of
this motley crew consisted of a Russian Mountain expert who, for this article's
sake, will be Anatoli Boukreev, the famous Russian climber and controversial
figure in Krakauer’s Into Thing Air (Anatoli wrote a rebuttal to Into
Thin Air called The Climb) and Jason Segel, a larger individual who
would add a comedic element to the trek. So after changing into our gear in the
star-blanketed darkness, we began our excursion using our headlamps. The climb
started like most. The feeling of adrenaline kicks in without being beaten down
by the agony of a full ascent. Finally, at around 5:30am, we were able to turn
off our headlamps and continue north through the lightened forest trail. With
the sun rising, and a thick fog encapsulating us, it felt as if we were in some
sort of tropical rainforest. Finally we hit the peak and the Madison Cabin at
a little before 7. We entered in order to get our gear situated due to the fact
that we now required enough warm layers to compensate for 70 mph winds and
drizzle. Everything under our shells were soaked due to the excessive sweat
created by a 3 mile hike uphill.
After 30 minutes of what
was our real first break, we continued on and eventually had the shit beaten
out of us on the Madison rock trail. Probably the most treacherous portion of
the hike, it consisted of a path composed entirely of sharp and slippery
protruding rocks. At one point Jason was making a few comments that made me
feel as if he would quit. I honestly started to get hopeful he would say
something as I did not know how much more of that portion I could bare.
Finally, after summitting Madison, we continued our journey over the rock
path to the summit of Adams, which was extremely difficult by itself, without
having to endure the 70 mph winds and drizzle that accompanied it. There were
certain moments when I felt I would be grabbed by a shot of wind and thrown
over a cliff.
After Adams, we summited
Jefferson and Clay, areas that reminded me of the Scottish highland. It was
amazing to see the wind blowing the clouds over the mountains. Moving in swirls
and being pushed over ridges, it appeared as if spirits who had died on this
trail and were still trying to find their way off of this godforsaken mountain
range. Finally we hit a little less than our midway point by reaching one of
the most famous mountains in the country, Mt. Washington. I have mentioned this
previously, but again want to point out that it's known for having the worst weather
in the world. At this point it was still drizzling, the wind was brutal, and
we were freezing. It also did not help that about 300 feet from the summit we
noticed the train moving to the summit full of tourists who thought it was
appropriate to smile and wave at a group of exhausted and dehydrated travelers.
They epitomized all that is wrong in this world. It's slightly defeating to
see a bunch of out of shape, cigarette-smoking, overweight individuals at
this summit as it personifies that lack of human spirit and laziness that has
caused America to be one of the fattest countries in the world.
Mt. Washington has been
subjected to 231 mile winds before, which is why the buildings on its climax need to be
chained down. The temperatures up there also plummet rapidly and can get
quickly snow covered. Now while it’s less than half of the elevation
of Mt Whitney, it's way more volatile. So after finally reaching this peak, we
entered the observatory which was filled with a plethora of frozen foods,
drinks, bathrooms, a museum, and what was probably the worst coffee I've ever
consumed. After about a 45 minute break it was now around 11:30am and I can
safely say that I had no desire to continue the journey. After a few quick
shots in front of the summit sign, we continued down the sharp wall to the lake
clouds. It was here that Dean’s knee finally gave out after a steep descent. He
had tweaked his knee the week before and had it taped with that therapeutic
athletic tape for our hike. He had no issues walking along a flat surface or
even ascending, but stepping down was what caused him the most discomfort. As
we continued our journey, we passed another cabin at the bottom of Washington
where the soft individuals can “camp” out and either break their trip into two
days or just enjoy the scenery.
So after summitting
Monroe and Eisenhower, (disregarding the sub-peak Franklin and the other
sub-peaks left) we skipped Pierce and made our final descent but it was at
this point when everyone started to truly struggle. Although we'd taken a
bunch of breaks, they'd mostly lasted no longer than 5 minutes (Besides at
the summit of Washington and the Madison Cabin). At this point, my legs were
aching and my back was sore. The hole in my leg was vastly more swollen and my
knuckle throbbed, but when it comes to hiking there's no turning back,
especially this close to the end. Even worse than my muscles and joints were
the soles of my feet, which had endured the brunt of the rocks. Each step felt
as if I was walking on burning coals. It was also at this point that I slowly
began to hallucinate, induced by utter exhaustion. I kept seeing cars and
individuals sitting on benches in the middle of the woods. After another 20
minutes of hiking, I would learn that I in fact had not seen anything, and was
most likely losing my mind. Either way, that cycle of hallucinations that occurred a few times
provided me with continuous hope and crushing defeat at the same time. As they
say, the hardest part is not making the summit, but getting back down.
After what felt like an
eternity, we saw the opening. We were finally there. I was thinking about how
great a cold water would be, sitting in an air conditioned car, while
half-asleep. Then we finally exited the forest walls to a fucking street. After
my first thought, which consisted of a curse word concoction, I regained
what little strength I had left and pushed us 20 yards down the side of the sun
drenched road to another opening that after walking around aimlessly we discovered contained
the right parking lot. Of course they were not there so we found the only park
bench and let our bodies fall victim to the exhaustion. We were there for only
a few minutes until our other team arrived. After a quick beer and some
chips and salsa, we decided it would be best to drive the hour to Anatoli’s in
order to gain some sleep, go out to eat, and sleep on beds instead of camp
out.
We drove right to a
restaurant near Anatoli’s and noticed that this small lake town was covered in
bikers. We soon found out that we were in the midst of bike week. It was now
8:00pm and the only thing I noticed were the countless Harleys and gritty men
of the road. After taking down this restaurant’s ‘famous’ cheeseburger, fries,
an unhealthy appetizer, and some beers, we made our way to the Russian’s lake
house. At this point it was around 9:30 and my only desire was to sleep.
Instead, he decided to torture us as only the Russians know how. It started
harmlessly with a beer and shot of vodka followed by devouring a pickle, then
he forced us to go swimming in the lake, which was probably about 50
degrees. The shock was short lived since your body went numb instantly.
Finally, we went into his sauna which was way more painful than the frozen lake.
I was expecting to see Satan hanging out in there. The sauna was scorching hot,
which was magnified when he whipped a towel over his head causing a feeling
of burning that overwhelmed our faces. He also gave us a felt pirate hat that
was apparently a necessity due to the fear that our brains would become
scrambled eggs similar to those anti-drug commercials. I could only imagine how
an outsider would react if they opened the sauna and viewed 5 (Dean was too
exhausted to endure the torture) grown ass men sitting around a sauna in their
swim trunks wearing weird pirate hats.
After doing this twice,
my body was aching less probably due to the hypo- and hyperthermia,
and my pores were completely open to the world. There was nothing left but a
quick shower and bed. I went into my room and ensured that he did not have
water boarding or “his” Roulette on tap and passed the fuck out. While a few
others stayed up for another hour or two, my body’s energy levels were
completely decimated. The next morning, everyone seemed to wake up at around
9am probably due to the body pains. My legs moved begrudgingly throughout the
rest of the day. After shifting everything around and getting ready, we packed
the cars and made our way back home after stopping at a diner. Although it had
been only one day, I had the feeling of culture shock when next to our table at
breakfast a girl and her mom were discussing the final game of the NBA Eastern
Finals that I had completely forgot about. Although a sports junkie, I had did
not have the feeling of emptiness I'd normally associate with missing this game because I'd known that
although strenuous, there's nothing more amazing than being able to see the majestic
wonders of the outdoors the way we had seen it.
The ride home, was long
but soothing. While everyone was in and out of sleep besides our driver Dean,
it gave me an opportunity to recap what we had just defeated. We managed to
hike 20 miles, gained 9000 ft of elevation, hiked for 15.5
hours, and all of this done with no sleep. We experienced the full spectrum of Mother
Nature as we traversed through pitch blackness, cold and warm weather, fog,
rain, heavy winds, and finally sun and complete calmness. It was as if the Gods
had to test us during the first half in order to make sure that we were worthy
of viewing such epic surroundings. It truly makes you feel miniscule. After
taking the bus from Dean’s and John’s stop in Jersey, Bert and I finally
arrived in NYC. Everything I forgot about: work, relationship issues, financial
security, the real world, it all bombarded me at once and the only thing that allowed
me to survive such frightening thoughts was knowing I would be out in the wilderness again sometime soon.
Hiking brings you
closer as a group. I was not close with three individuals in our crew but after enduring
such a strenuous achievement you feel that connection with those who struggled alongside you. No one
can fully understand or appreciate what you have accomplished unless they've
accomplished the same feat. Even then, there are minute differences that cause
you to become closer to those individuals who surrounded you at that specific
time than those who merely accomplished the same summit as you. Not only will you always remember that epic hike, great trip, or amazing
adventure; but, more significantly, you'll never forget the conversations, the
characters, the camaraderie, and that unified push that's all part of the
journey because without that human touch, it would not be complete.
- Kyle
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