I've been visiting a lot of boards these last few nights. So many interesting conversations going on in the air around us. The ones from the New Englanders have been especially gratifying to this old Yankee. Just reading about the White Mountains makes me smile at the same time I'm feeling homesick.
One memorable hiking trip, in the beginning of our treking days, we climbed into the Tuck and spent the night in the old "Howard Johnson", which was a huge, 60-man/woman/child, three-sided, Adirondack-type shelter. As neophytes, we carried a cast iron skillet, our friend had a case of beer, and we had coffee pots, food, more clothes than we would ever need, plus lots of other flotsam and jetsam that I mercifully can't remember.
My pack was an old army one, with a metal frame that came around the waist. It was supposed to sit up off the hips, but because I'm short, the frame sat ON my hips. Half-way up to the Tuck shelter, I got spasms in my back and hips, rendering it impossible to walk. Our friend with the case of beer grabbed my pack, stuck it on top of his, and trudged up the mountain. Without the pack, the spasms stopped, and I was able to get there, too. Someone had a pack scale in the Tuck, and when friend weighed our two packs together, he discovered he had carried 77 pounds up that mountain!
The shelter was full that night. Three Marines from RI were spread out near our family and friends, and as the shelter filled to overflowing, they moved their pallets out under the stars. One of the men used a huge rock for a pillow. My kids couldn't get over that. I was disdainful, feeling that these guys were just a little too full of themselves and the "few good men" attitude. So when Big son, who was about 7 1/2 stepped in the middle of one of their steaks in the dark, I couldn't feel too bad. They cooked it and ate it anyway.
The next day, DB, Big son, Lyra, friend, and I climbed over the headwall and began the trek up to the summit of Mt. Washington. When we passed the point of no return, a terrible ice storm came up suddenly. The icy rain was whipping laterally across us, freezing instantly on all the huge boulders we had to navigate. I got very sleepy, and kept telling DB I wanted to lie down for a few minutes and rest. He was really scared I was getting hypothermic, and wouldn't let me even slow down. Friend was struggling himself to maneuver over the slippery rocks.
And the two kids? My precious ones? I didn't even think about them; I needed to close my eyes and sleep. But they were safe, because those three Marines saw we were in trouble, and stayed to climb with them. They got to the top long before DB and I did, thanks to those three "good men". The kids thought it was quite an adventure. DB and I didn't get over our terror for days. Years later, I read about hypothermia and realized just how close I was to dying on that mountain that has claimed so many lives. If DB hadn't known about the symptoms of hypothermia, and had let me rest, well...
We came part way down the mountain in one of the big vans that took tourists up to the top. DB had to beg the driver, but he finally let us join them (of course we didn't have our money with us; it was in the Tuck with friend's wife and our youngest child). Once we were below treeline, he let us out and we walked across the foot of the mountain back into the Tuck. It was quite a day. We found out when we returned that a father and his two young boys had elected to turn back and navigate the headwall about the same time we decided it was safer to go up. One of the boys fell, broke his leg, and the dad had to negotiate that dangerous lip of the headwall with a 9-year old slung over his shoulder.
There are several morals in this story. I, however, have never doubted the "few good men" theory since. Thank you guys. Semper Fidelus
8:28 PM
Oh, do I have a lot of dishes to do! I spent too much time on this computer last night, and reasoned that there were only a few dishes, so I went to bed. Ugghh! Now I have a pile of them and it's just as late as it was last night. Oh well. My mother warned me that being lazy just doesn't pay off.
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