I’ve climbed alone a lot. Sometimes for miles and miles before seeing another living soul. I wouldn’t say that I seek that kind of extreme solitude as much as I seek the mountains, and solitude just often happens to be the byproduct of such a quest. But being out there, sometimes in the dark, where no company or cell phone service is available to comfort you, can certainly elevate your heartrate. It might even make you start making large whooping noises or singing songs as loudly as you can in order to ward off any possible attack from cougars, bears, strange men in the woods, and the boogeyman.
And yet, I love it, so of course I take my kids out into the mountains. Not to go looking for boogeymen, but so they can experience the beauty and peace one can get from being “out there.” Seems like a reasonable thing to do, right? Maybe even a good parenting choice? Well, I’m glad you think so because I was seriously questioning that this week when my daughter decided to hike the Presidential Range in one day, all by herself.
You want to go out there… alone??
Recognizing the Need
As you can imagine, I was nervous. Everyone who has attempted Mount Washington or a 4000-footer in New Hampshire, knows about the risks. The rescues. The deaths. For my own peace of mind, I insisted upon taking her to the trailhead and then meeting her at Mount Washington, so that as she went on this adventure, she could do it as safely as possible with minimal interference from Dad. Because I appreciate the need to test oneself—to see if you can do something alone—and I know what an adventure like this could do for her in life. But even though I was in full support, that doesn’t mean I didn’t lose any sleep over it. Because I did.
The night before I tossed and turned, mapping out the risk factors in my head. I went online and triple-checked weather reports and studied the map again for bail-out points—spots where if she was too tired to continue, I could meet up with her and guide her out. Fortunately, none of that was needed. She got a beautiful day to climb and she motored over the Presidential Ridge like a seasoned veteran.
A beautiful day on the Presidential Ridge
Seeing the Possible
I took particular pride when speaking with two men at Washington’s summit who asked me what I was up to. I had just driven up the Auto Road, which was absolutely terrifying, and figured I’d hike a little ways north, over Mount Clay, to meet my daughter along the trail somewhere around Mount Jefferson. Donning my pack and hiking gear, I told the men that I was meeting up with my daughter who was planning to solo traverse the ridge in one day.
“That’s impossible,” one gentleman said. “She needs at least two days. I’ve only done it in two, and I’ve done it several times.” The other man agreed. A cold breeze ran through us as I contemplated how to tell them that we knew what we were doing, without sounding condescending. “Well,” I said, “I’ve done it. Granted, it was a long time ago, but yep, she’s going to do it.” The first man looked skeptical and I decided he might feel better about his own feat if he knew I carried a very light pack when I did it. “Oh,” he said. “Yeah, that’s the only way you could do it.”
Moving Along
But my daughter’s pack wasn’t that light. She was carrying winter gear in case the conditions dramatically changed, and because the hut system wasn’t open yet, she also had a little more food and water than one would normally need on the ridge. Despite this, she made excellent time. After we met on the north side of Mount Clay, we hiked up Mount Washington together and then I watched with envy as she descended the Crawford Path towards Mount Monroe. I had to drive down the Mount Washington Auto Road to get to the next checkpoint, and I would have traded places with anyone on the planet to avoid that drive—well, anyone except for someone in my family. That thing is SCARY.
After the harrowing drive down Mount Washington, I made my way to the start of the Crawford Path and ascended most of the way up Mount Pierce before reconnecting with my daughter on the south side of the Presidential Range. It was still light out—only around 4:40PM—and she wanted to keep moving knowing that a rest would stiffen her body up and make the rest of the climb more difficult. It was another sound decision in what was an altogether triumphant day. I was so impressed.
Descending the Crawford Path, in good shape and making great time.
Heading Out Into the World
Letting your kids go out into the world is terrifying. Especially when there are real risks of danger. But anything we can do to support their independence and resilience is a game changer for how they tackle life. I suppose I brought the stress of her climbing the 4000-footers on myself, seeing that I have a whole website dedicated to my love of them. Why I couldn’t have a safer hobby like bowling or golf, I have no idea. But at the end of the day, while I may have acquired a few more gray hairs this week from the worry, it’s a great comfort to know that she can handle herself in the wild. Hopefully this means that I’ll be able to get better sleep going forward, right?
In the interest of sleep, though, I did make her promise me one thing at the end of the climb: to NEVER do this alone again. Because she’s already proven to herself that she can do it, and we don’t want to give the old man a heart attack, do we?
DO WE?!
It’s a big world out there.