LRiz
New member
I was dragging. Utterly, completely, annoyingly, though (to some extent) understandably dragging. Our five-peak adventure from the day before had thoroughly tired me out, to the point where no amount of caffeine could possibly restore my energy. However, as Eric accurately put it, our team had unfinished business. After falling slightly short of bagging the entirety of the Wildcat-Carter-Moriah range, I had my heart set on climbing Moriah before the weekend was out. Exhaustion, be damned... I would summit the mountain if it took me all day to do so.
The sky was overcast and gray as we pulled into the Bangor Road "neighborhood" parking area. Even the landscape around us seemed cold and drained of color as we quietly shuffled about in preparation for the hike ahead. A faint dusting of snow coated the other three cars in the lot, and I was surprised to see Rocket21's truck amongst them... It had been many weeks since I'd last seen him, and I was glad to know that I'd encounter a friend on the trail.
All was well, up until I bent down to strap on my snowshoes, and, mortified, came to realize that both of the front straps were torn! Not the best way to start a hike, that's for certain. Fortunately, I was able to remove the broken sections and attach the shoes using the shorter straps. Within a few minutes, we were on our way. Reaching the start of the trail itself, we were greeted by the marvelous sight of... firmly packed, perfect, seemingly endless broken trail. I almost died of happiness.
Although the initial climb was moderate, we tackled it at a very slow pace in an effort to conserve what little energy we had. Passing through beautiful stretches of woods, we ran into a group of hikers on their way down from Mt. Surprise, where they'd camped the night before. They informed us that the trail would remain broken all the way to the summit of Moriah. Most excellent.
Upwards we went. Reaching the open ledges, I was pleased to find that the trail remained packed with snow and was not at all icy.
While the views weren't spectacular, the air around us was calm and the temperatures not too cool, which made the ascent tolerable on this dreary day...
...that is, until we passed Mt. Surprise. Suddenly, almost cruelly, the trail showed its real nature, climbing up, then dipping down... over and over and over again, dragging us over multiple false summits. Approching one such summit, we encountered Rocket21, and stopped to chat for a while - a welcome break while it lasted, but we were soon on our way again. Fatigue overwhelmed me. Every step seemed a chore. My quads were aching, and my achilles had flared up angrily... and a part of me began to question why it is that I even enjoy climbing mountains. Why put my body through such hell? Why push on, when I could take the easy way out and just turn around?
It was amidst this rather bewildering internal conflict that I began to sense that the summit was near. Well, that's not entirely true. In fact, it kind of hit me like a slap in the face. Not being familiar with the Carter-Moriah trail, I hadn't realized that we were so close... yet all of a sudden there we were, standing on the stunning open ledges of Moriah itself. The shock of it all left me speechless (my first summit without a customary holler of joy).
At that very moment all of my negativity instantly left me, and I was overwhelmed by a sense of uncontrollable happiness. The pain of the grueling climb, the stresses of work and everyday life, all seemed to instantly fade away as I stood there on the summit of Moriah. It's really quite amazing how something as simple as climbing a mountain can affect a person so profoundly...
I have no idea why this particular hike resonated with me in the way that it did... but it made me realize, once again, why it is that I spend every spare moment of my time planning hikes, watching the weather like a hawk, and daydreaming about my weekend excursions.
...a few more (very underwhelming, I must admit) pictures here for those of you who are interested.
The sky was overcast and gray as we pulled into the Bangor Road "neighborhood" parking area. Even the landscape around us seemed cold and drained of color as we quietly shuffled about in preparation for the hike ahead. A faint dusting of snow coated the other three cars in the lot, and I was surprised to see Rocket21's truck amongst them... It had been many weeks since I'd last seen him, and I was glad to know that I'd encounter a friend on the trail.
All was well, up until I bent down to strap on my snowshoes, and, mortified, came to realize that both of the front straps were torn! Not the best way to start a hike, that's for certain. Fortunately, I was able to remove the broken sections and attach the shoes using the shorter straps. Within a few minutes, we were on our way. Reaching the start of the trail itself, we were greeted by the marvelous sight of... firmly packed, perfect, seemingly endless broken trail. I almost died of happiness.
Although the initial climb was moderate, we tackled it at a very slow pace in an effort to conserve what little energy we had. Passing through beautiful stretches of woods, we ran into a group of hikers on their way down from Mt. Surprise, where they'd camped the night before. They informed us that the trail would remain broken all the way to the summit of Moriah. Most excellent.
Upwards we went. Reaching the open ledges, I was pleased to find that the trail remained packed with snow and was not at all icy.
While the views weren't spectacular, the air around us was calm and the temperatures not too cool, which made the ascent tolerable on this dreary day...
...that is, until we passed Mt. Surprise. Suddenly, almost cruelly, the trail showed its real nature, climbing up, then dipping down... over and over and over again, dragging us over multiple false summits. Approching one such summit, we encountered Rocket21, and stopped to chat for a while - a welcome break while it lasted, but we were soon on our way again. Fatigue overwhelmed me. Every step seemed a chore. My quads were aching, and my achilles had flared up angrily... and a part of me began to question why it is that I even enjoy climbing mountains. Why put my body through such hell? Why push on, when I could take the easy way out and just turn around?
It was amidst this rather bewildering internal conflict that I began to sense that the summit was near. Well, that's not entirely true. In fact, it kind of hit me like a slap in the face. Not being familiar with the Carter-Moriah trail, I hadn't realized that we were so close... yet all of a sudden there we were, standing on the stunning open ledges of Moriah itself. The shock of it all left me speechless (my first summit without a customary holler of joy).
At that very moment all of my negativity instantly left me, and I was overwhelmed by a sense of uncontrollable happiness. The pain of the grueling climb, the stresses of work and everyday life, all seemed to instantly fade away as I stood there on the summit of Moriah. It's really quite amazing how something as simple as climbing a mountain can affect a person so profoundly...
I have no idea why this particular hike resonated with me in the way that it did... but it made me realize, once again, why it is that I spend every spare moment of my time planning hikes, watching the weather like a hawk, and daydreaming about my weekend excursions.
...a few more (very underwhelming, I must admit) pictures here for those of you who are interested.
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