I had gotten up around four-thirty that
cool summer morning, anxious to get on the road. My parents
were still asleep, however, my mother had my lunch packed
and waiting on the kitchen table. I double-checked my gear,
grabbed my boots, backpack, and lunch, and left the house.
Walking to my car, the first pale hint of red was entering
the sky as the sun rose higher and higher. I was right on
schedule and greatly anticipating a good day.
It was a hot, dry summer morning when
I reached the parking lot designated for hikers. The cars
in the parking lot were mostly from other states. I opened
the trunk of my car and grabbed my hiking boots. I had definitely
chosen the right day for my first climb of Mt. Washington.
I tied my boots, put on my pack, made sure the car was locked
up, and walked over to the map displayed at the head of the
trail. I studied the map for a few minutes and then started
my six-mile journey to the summit.
For the first two miles I walked slowly,
enjoying the scenery. It was very beautiful out there. The
birds were out, the air was crisp and clean, and a soft breeze
tickled my ears. After an hour and a half had passed, I gradually
picked up the pace.
I reached an intersection in the trail
at about eleven o'clock. The sun was almost directly overhead,
and I judged the temperature as about ninety degrees. I had
three miles to go and I felt great. I drank a bottle of water
before continuing. As I was about to get up, a huge deer walked
right out in front of me; I never even heard it. It was by
far the most magnificent-looking animal I had ever seen. The
deer's fur was light brown, almost tan, and its antlers had
strips of golden velvet that were torn and dirty. Just as
soon as the deer was there, he was gone, and I was back on
my way to the summit.
I walked cautiously among the trees
for another hour. As I was walking, I noticed the sky got
brighter and brighter. Soon I broke through the treeline,
and I could see the summit. The sun glistened off the tower.
Hundreds of people climbing toward the summit. I hesitated
for a moment, awed by the view, and then scrambled over the
rocks toward the summit.
Beads of sweat ran down my face as I
pushed toward the top. The summit was half a mile away, yet
it seemed like two feet. My legs burned but nothing could
have stopped me-not a rockslide, an earthquake, an avalanche-nothing.
Determination filled my body and gave me phenomenal energy.
What seemed like two minutes was forty-five and before I knew
it I was on my knees at the summit. I had made it.
