An unfurling storm,
miles away from anywhere,
foolish to ascend.
The frozen supplies,
reminders of poor planning,
and my shortcomings.
But upon the snow
rests my overburdened pack,
begging to descend.
And I do agree,
because you cannot exchange
a failed homecoming.
This week I managed to get back to the top of a mountain. It wasn’t the biggest mountain nor was it the smallest, but it was a mountain nonetheless. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to climb. The damage to my nervous system has made exercise impossible these last few years and…
Why do this to myself? Why, why, why?! Why suffer the weight on my back, still bent on standing on the highest point of the mountain, conquering it, though neither man nor beast would be present to bear witness to my accomplishment? I’ve heard many climbers answer this question with the classic response, “because it…
A few years ago I embarked on a quest to complete all 48 of New Hampshire’s tallest mountains before turning the ripe old age of 40. If you’re from New Hampshire, you’ve heard of the 4000-footers. If you’re from New England, you’ve probably heard of the 4000-footers. And if you’re turning 40 and don’t want…