“T Minus 7” got completely missed yesterday, but for good reason:  I was out hiking the Mount “Hell-inor” (actually, it’s Mount Ellinor) trail.  I didn’t get home until after 8:00 pm, and by then I was more interested in the chuck wagon and bathtub than my computer, so I didn’t blog.  But I’m back!

Mount “Hellinor” was incredible, and as is always the case, I learned at least one important thing about myself, life in general, or — hiking safety.  This hike was special in that I learned something in each category.  My recap follows.  Here’s a link to my video for when you’re done reading.  I’ll put another link at the bottom of this post so you don’t forget. (Note: I found the perfect background music for my last hurrah before heading to Africa. I think you’ll get it.)

Badger Climbs Mt. Hell-inor

1. My strength has increased 100-fold.

When I started this journey in May, I was probably in the worst physical shape I’ve been in for awhile.  Two surgeries over the last 10 months and my stressful job took a toll, and I couldn’t do as much exercise as I was used to.  Once I fully recovered from the scalpels, it was hard to get back into it.  Knowing that I had to face a 19,341′ mountain September kicked me into gear.  That is one of the reasons for this campaign’s existence, right?  Do something good for yourself.

So climbing Mount “Hellinor” showed me that I have gained most of my strength back–and then some. Mount “Hellinor” is described in the hiking web pages as “extremely strenuous” and “not for the faint of heart.”  One jokester on the Washington Trails Organization’s page described the trail as “character building.”  NO SHIT!  There are two starting points:  the upper trailhead, which is three miles round trip, and the lower, which is six. Knowing that “more is more” for training purposes, I opted to launch at the lower trailhead . After all, this is my last training climb before leaving for Kili.  🙁

The first part up to where the trail intersects with the upper trailhead isn’t hard.  It does have some definite elevation gain, but it isn’t until that intersection that things literally “ramp up.”  It was as I was climbing switchback after switchback that I noticed I was killing it.  I was keeping up with younger folk, and I didn’t feel tired.  Major improvement from even a couple months ago!

Then I hit the “Summer Trail” junction, where the trail is reputed to get a “bit” more challenging.  Ha!  What a nightmare!  It got super steep, but that wasn’t the issue.  It was the boulders and rocks combined with the steep grade and exposure.  Mentally, I don’t like hanging out on exposed rock fields. It’s just not my bag.  (Acrophobia, remember!) This trail was steep enough and rough enough that it required scrambling (using hands and feet to navigate).  It was also very uncomfortable for me because I like a clear, marked trail, even if it’s hard.  A few times in the rock quarry, I lost the trail.  I was scared shitless that I would end up on a cliff somewhere, unable to get out of it.  Fortunately, there were a few hikers around so I was able to gauge where I needed to be and stay out of trouble.

But here’s where it got really awesome for me:  I realized as I was scaling these rocks, using tons of leg and core power, that it physically was not all that taxing!  The rocks kept coming, and I kept pushing up and over without much effort.  I wasn’t tired.  At some point this absolutely amazed me.  I guarantee I could not have gotten even 50 yards over that trail a few months ago.  So there you go–the training is paying off.  I feel good.  Hats off to Auden Lewis, my personal trainer, for getting me “corestrong!”  And thanks to Heather Thomson and her crew for brewing up this adventure.

Kili by no means will be easy, but it will be easier now because of the lesser mountains that I’ve climbed to get to this point.  I’m physically ready.

2. Life in General

People are inherently GOOD.  Descending the rock quarry was much harder than going up because the fear factor doubled. It was too steep for me to just step down some of it, even with trekking poles, so yes, I called on that part of my anatomy that has THE most amazing traction–my butt.  Some of you have seen me in action and know it’s true:  I’m a freaking descending machine on my ass.  Unfortunately, it’s not very efficient.  But given how close we are to Kili, I couldn’t afford a fall on this terrain, so I played it safe.  I was on my ass at least four times on that descent.

What was EXCELLENT was that during the scarier parts, other hikers sensed I was frustrated and asked if I needed any help.  I explained that I was simply nervous about the precarious grade and rocks and that I was just taking my time.  Then I joked about the ass-traction thing, and everyone laughed.  Most admitted that they had resorted to ass-climbing many times, even on this trip.  Several claimed that there was “no shame in ass hiking.”

One guy even continued to call back up to me from below to make sure I saw the proper route as we descended.  He would yell and say, “see where I am?  When you get here, make sure you stay to the right.  The left is bad.”  He did this several times until we got out of the rough part that was difficult to navigate.  Because of these kind souls, I could relax a bit and be confident that I wasn’t going to need Mountain Air Rescue to come to my aid.  🙂

3.  Hiking Safety

When I set out on my journey yesterday, the weather was forecast to be sunny and warm.  As is always the case, this tempts me to leave certain essentials behind rather than lug them around in my backpack.  My better judgment prevailed, and it was a good thing it did.

I got kind of a late start, which wouldn’t have been a problem except that it took me longer than I expected.  So when I finally reached the lower trail on my descent (which by then was abandoned), it was starting to get kind of dark under the trees–and cold.  There were actually rain clouds brewing, and the summit had become obscured by mist.  Fortunately, I had my headlamp and warm clothing (and plenty of food and water).  If I hadn’t brought them, it wouldn’t have been comfortable.  By then I had cooled off but was still covered with sweat, which decreased my body temperature more rapidly than I would have liked.  And of course, if anything had happened and I got injured, it would’ve been bad. There is no cell phone service there, so I’d have to either crawl out, hope someone comes along, or wait it out until my relatives realized that I hadn’t returned on schedule and sent out the cavalry.  The moral of the story is to never go unprepared into the wilderness, even if you expect people around.  I hear and see this warning everywhere, yet there were people on the trail yesterday with no water! I actually broke one of the cardinal rules myself:  hiking alone.  But this trail gets enough traffic that I felt it was a safe gamble.

Nevertheless, it was awfully quiet and a little spooky during that last hour down the trail by my lonesome, and I got to think long and hard about how unpleasant it would have been to be stuck out there alone.  I was very happy when I saw the trail registration sign coming into view, because I knew I was nearly done.

Embracing “The Suck”

As I finished the final descent yesterday, I was reminded of how much more important mental preparedness and stamina can be than physical brute strength.  It has proven to be true time and again–in my case on long-distance cycling challenges.  No matter how hard and long you physically train for an event, it is still going to totally SUCK at some point, and depending on how long and demanding it is, it may reach the point where your body says, “You move me another inch?  I’m going to have a heart attack and kill you!”  It’s at that time that your brain steps in and says, “actually, you’re going to keep pedaling for another 65 miles, ’cause you have to make it to camp.”  So you do.  You ignore the excruciating pain and discomfort, and you EMBRACE THE SUCK.

I know The Suck is great in that one–Kilimanjaro.  She is going to try to break us.  Like Honey Badger, she doesn’t care.  Statistically, she may succeed with one or more of us, most likely because of altitude sickness issues.  I sure hope not.  But I can assure you this:  I am prepared to embrace The Suck that is climbing that mountain, so watch out, Kili.  I’m coming for you.  Very soon.  And I’m going to stand on your head and do a (short) Badger Dance with my KiliSisters and Brother Jeff.  After that, I will try to stop vomiting and catch my breath so I can hightail it down the mountain and out of high altitude.  And get a shower, ’cause I ain’t going to smell very good after seven days of exerting without bathing.

Here’s the link to the video again:

Badger Climbs Mount Ellinor

Onward and UPWARD!!

-The Badger