Well, climb is maybe a strong word for what we did last weekend. But the original plan was to climb Mt. Adams, until the weather forecast looked such that I maybe didn’t want to be out on a 12,000 foot volcano with my inexperienced brother. I was worried about losing some of the fitness I’ve built up, so Eric and I decided to go camping for a night and hike up something.
There are many perfectly nice hikes up reasonable inclines we could have done instead, but no, we looked at the miserable weather and picked a miserable hike to match. I have been afraid to hike up the infamous Mailbox Peak, and it turns out maybe I should have been more afraid because spending the previous night drinking beer and playing cards and roasting marshmallows and then eating bacon and eggs for breakfast that morning did me no favors. Neither did the downpour or the fog or the complete lack of view. Neither did hiking it with my superhumanly fast boyfriend, who does not believe in conversation while hiking or climbing, unlike the chatterboxes I usually associate with. (“How in the hell did I make it up Mt. Rainier?” I wondered at one point, gasping for breath. “Well, you climbed with a support group,” said Eric.)
THING #4: DONE. (14/101)
And now I never have to do it again.
