It all started with a camping trip to the Adirondack Loj with Hunter and Rider. We pulled over on the way in at the view over the Plains of Abraham. Rider saw Algonquin and said, I want to climb that one! Well Hunter for sure didn't want to, so we had a wonderful hike of Mount Jo and I began quietly plotting a return trip.
A month later we pulled into the Loj Campground to stay in a canvas cabin. These things are a perfect base camp for high peaks hiking. Plenty of room to move around and it sure is nice not to have to set up and break down a tent. We had a fun night dining at the Hungry Hiker then tucked into bed early. Rider of course wanted the top bunk. I finished The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman. A beautiful little story. Owls hooted back and forth at each other and I felt so happy, spending this time with my son.
The next morning we got a solid jump on the hike starting at 7. Rider was very enthusiastic and pushed the pace over the approach. I was continually overwhelmed by nostalgia, remembering various landmarks on a trail Jeanette and I had hiked so many times so long ago.
Once we hit the Wright spur train and the final push up Algonquin, summit fever kicked in big time for Rider. I was able to keep up just fine in the first 2/3 of the hike, but now that he was actually excited, I couldn't keep up and had to plead with him to let me catch my breath a few times. I couldn't help but be excited to though. His energy was infectious!
We snacked regularly. J had the bright idea to give Rider his fanny pack full of snacks. A couple of toys too. So we'd climb a bit, have a snack, then climb a bit more. The middle dragged. And dragged. Once the excitement wore off, it was hard to Maintain a steady pace. This is the part of hiking in the high peaks I wasn't in a rush to experience with kids. Its mentally challenging to keep a kid motivated when the hike involces climbing up and over muddy rocks for a miles.
We kept at it. We chatted a lot. We did eventually pick up speed as the terrain changed, and the forest gave clear indications that we were entering the alpine zone. I mentioned to Rider that the trees would get smaller as we got higher and he was very vigilant in his study of the forest. It became apparent that the summit was in the clouds as we caught glimpses through the forest. I was hopeful that it would burn off, but couldn't help but be a little discouraged thinking Rider might not have a view.
But the terrain kept getting more challenging, with cliff bands and rain-slick rock. We were more exposed to the wind as the forest peeled away in the alpine zone. Wind was very much on my mind when planning this hike. I knew high winds on a summit could be really scary. So the forecast was good. Only 5-10 mph gusts, which is very minimal for such an exposed peak. Even that amount of wind, coupled by the terrain and fog, can be very daunting for a little guy. For anyone really.
So Rider got pretty scared. Each successive cliff band brought out bigger feelings until he stalled, in tears, saying he didn't want to go any further. From the start, I knew that turning around was highly likely. Weather, injury, exhaustion, or fear. Any factor and I was ready to bail. Rider is seven. The mountains will wait.
I knew we didn't have much more difficult terrain ahead of us though. I tucked us in to a safe (and hopefully somewhat cozy) spot at the base of our next cliff scramble. Gave Rider a hug or five. And a snack. After he had calmed down, he said he still didn't want to go any further. I said that was ok. I felt like it was ok. We were maybe two tenths of a mile from the top. I knew his mom would want him to try though. Jeanette fought to overcome her fears constantly throughout our 46er journey and I was always so proud of her working though it.
We had some cell reception so I gave mom a call. Since it was just Rider and I alone up there, I never wanted to push him too hard or make him feel unsafe. Mom said how proud she was about how far he had made it. Told him he didn't have much further to go. She knew he could do it. He still said no. So we hung up the phone. Finished snacking. I caught a few views down towards Wright, offering me some hope that the clouds would part up top.
So I packed up my bag. Turned around to start heading back and there is Rider, scaling the cliff in front of us. He was pushing on and never looking back. Absolutely determined. Didn't say a thing about anything he had just been feeling or was feeling in that moment. I couldn't believe it. The strength in this kid to be clinging to the side of a 5000 foot mountain and feel SO afraid and still want to push on.
We were still in the clouds. We started the morning with few other groups on the trail but as the morning went on, we kept running in to more and more people. A big group of 20 something dudes had recently passed us. On a cliff band not much further from where we stalled, they were all heckling (good-naturedly I think) one of their buddies who had stalled out himself, his fear of heights getting to him.
Rider and I talked about what he had just gone through and I jokingly offered a "dad pep talk". Whether it was helpful, or he felt a way about a 7 year old making it up, I offered him a hand up and he rejoined his group. Rider was positively buzzing and chirping now. We started to follow the navigational cairns through the mist. The world felt intense and glorious.
Despite the cloud cover, the weather was nice on the summit, so we decided we'd hang out for a while and see if the clouds would lift. I think we were both pretty elated and ready to bask in the moment a little longer. So we snacked. Summit pickles! I brought along a Nine Pin cider, which tasted phenomenal. Sensei Mike, from Rider's dojo, Shoshin Karate, requested a summit push up photo, so we obliged.
We explored a bit and found a cozy spot to chill, and see if the clouds would break. Occasionally the sky above us would suddenly open up bright blue. Made me hopeful we'd see something. Rider was agreeable, optimistic. "Let's hang! I bet we'll get a view!" He really wanted to see Marcy. I told him we could wait as long as we wanted to. We had gotten to the summit at 11, climbing 4.4 miles in 5 hours. Before we started seeing anything ourselves, we heard gasps from the other people on the summit. Oohs and aahs. Little commotions as people got up to get a better look. We saw Lake Colden first. Then the new slides on Mount Colden. Bigger and bigger patches of blue sky.
It was beautiful and fleeting and intense and everything that is awe-inspiring about hiking in the high peaks. I wanted so badly for him to have a view after all the hard work he put in, and the fear he overcame. My heart felt so full.
After gawking a while longer, Rider wanted to explore the summit. So we walked around, checked out the plants, and chatted with the other hikers. Naturally EVERYONE wanted to talk with Rider and give him props for the serious climb he did. I'm so floored by how confident and articulate Rider is. He just feels so comfortable in his own skin, telling story. It was great to be his wing man, and chat with a lot more people than I would've normally. We eventually got chatting with the summit steward, and ask for a tour of the alpine vegetation. She showed us so much cool stuff, including trees that grew out, but never up! I learned something new: there is an alpine cranberry! Love hearing the summit stewards speak passionately about these weird little magical plants.
I was mesmerized by the patterns the summit grasses made, their yellow contrasting the rich reds of the fall vegetation.
Views continued to open up as we explored the summit. Each moment unique and breath-taking in it's own way.
Knowing the tough miles we had ahead of ourselves, we eventually started backed down. How different a mountain can feel depending on the mood. The summit was scary and intense for Rider on the way up, for dad full of worry and concern. As we made our way down, the view continued to open up and the sun shone through, lighting our way back to the Loj, with Lake Placid now visible beyond.
We had so much fun walking in the alpine zone, looking all around. By the time Wright Peak was in view, it was completely out of the clouds. After they saw us taking a selfie, a friendly hiker took a great picture of us. Now a favorite of mine, I got a canvas made and gave it to Rider for Christmas.
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The day kept getting sunnier and more beautiful. I stopped and took a million pictures. We lingered.
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Back inside the tree-line we moved slowly but surely. Revisiting the familiar sites with the powerful sense of relief of reaching a difficult summit brings. Since I kept driving the pace on the way up, I made sure he had time to stop and play. He loves manipulating the rivulets and cascades that tumble down the trail. Making little dams and rerouting the flow. We had many snacks. We chatted. The pace dragged. I won't lie... it took a long time and some mental fortitude to keep us moving. Rider counted to 500 at some point. Both on the climb and on the way down, we sang I want It That Way, which is a staple of Mrs. Klink's second grade class. This was one of my favorite parts of the hike. Golden from K Pop Demon Hunters was another favorite jam for our journey. We did eventually make it out of the woods and immediately began planning our next trip.
