The toughest day ever...

Friday, September 21, 2012

I was hiking out by 7 a.m. with the goal of eating a breakfast at the car and moving to the trailhead ready to climb by 7:30 a.m.  Things were right on schedule and I was about ready to hike when another hiker approached and began a conversation about what we were climbing and where we were from.  When I mentioned Highland Heights, he said his step grandkids, in the van with him, went to school at Mayfield.  One of the two boys heard this and my name and walked over.

“Are you Jack Rolf’s dad?”

“Yes I am.  You know Jack?” I asked, amazed at the coincidence of meeting someone he knew 500 miles from home.

“Yeah…we’re in the same class!  He told me he was up here a couple of weeks ago,” he replied.

We talked a little longer and by the time I left, I’d given up 20 minutes of daylight.  I knew I’d have to move fast all day if I was to have any chance of making all four peaks and this was an auspicious beginning.

I began climbing a steep, rocky trail to a mountain called Lower Wolfjaws.  It was challenging and when I reached it three hours later around 11 a.m., I was concerned about time…and energy.  I spent only minutes on the peak and began descending and climbing the mile of trail to Upper Wolfjaws.  It was extremely an extremely difficult trail with many false paths and steep pitches.  It took about an hour and when I reached its peak at noon, I needed to take some time to rest and consume some calories.  I ate an apple and two bars and was again descending in 15 minutes, making the 1-mile trek to the peak of Mt. Armstrong. 

As I ascended the final feet of Armstrong, I noticed cramping and trembling in my quads.  I was extremely pleased to have gotten in three peaks, but felt that it was time to head for the trail that would descend to my car.  Before leaving the peak, I met up with my first person since the parking lot five hours earlier.  He turned out to be from Canton…making the only people I’d seen that day Ohioans.  He’d come from the peak of Gothics Mt., the final peak I’d been considering, and convinced me to give it a try.  When I reached the trail junction that would take me down or lead up to Gothics, I decided I’d go the half mile up.

I reached the peak at 2 p.m. and found it completely fogged in, which could mean bad weather on the way.  I could see no more than fifty feet, which made for hazardous climbing conditions and after a brief stay to renourish and make a couple of phone calls (sometimes there is cell reception if the peak is high enough and this one was) began my three-plus hour descent back to the car.

I took extra precautions during the descent because I was so tired and didn’t want to risk injury.  I did pass a couple that was moving slower, which was good since I figured if I fell; they’d be passing me and could offer help.  I was surprised at just how few people were climbing that day.  I staggered over the last couple of miles back to the car and was as exhausted as I’ve ever been when I arrived there.  I’d been out on a trail for about ten hours and covered fifteen miles with much of that steep verticals.  My feet were extremely sore and my achilles had been hurting all day.  Still…I reveled in the fact that I’d just knocked off four tough peaks of the 46 High Peaks.

I was scheduled to meet Donnie at the Noonmark Diner at 6:30, which left me with enough time to dip into the cold, clear waters of Chapel Pond for a clean-up.  Nothing revitalizes me like dipping into these mountain ponds and I cleaned rapidly while shivering from the cold.  It felt wonderful to knock off the mud and sweat of the trail and to pull on clean clothes and I was feeling almost normal as I drove to the Diner.  I ordered a bowl of chili and hot coffee while waiting and wolfed down a ham and mushroom omelet with a strawberry shake once Donnie arrived.  I was famished.

We made our way back to the trailhead after dark and were forced to hike back to Round Pond with headlamps on and at a slow, steady pace.  Forty minutes later, we arrived in camp and began the process of setting up Donnie’s tent…one he’d never used before.  It was too dark to search for more firewood, so we talked with lights on for an hour before retiring to our tents.  My feet were so sore from the hike that I struggled to fall asleep.  The rain that was predicted for the late afternoon and evening thankfully stayed away though and it was a pleasant evening.

Hike Duration: Ten hours.
Training Heart Rate: 80-160 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 8000.