Terror in the Whites: The Choice

It’s unclear who actually chose the route. Unclear who said, “Let’s do that one!” despite hearing the following descriptions uttered from the mouths of dirty, disheveled, delirious hikers:

• “Hardest hut-to-hut hike in the White Mountains”
• “The worst day of my life”
• “Brutal”
• “What were we thinking?”
• “Relentless”
• “Diabolical”
• “Able to be completed in the listed time of eight hours only if you are an Olympic athlete.” (Note: the listed/estimated time is 5.5 hours. That guy was a tool.)

These assessments are hardly inviting and certainly less than encouraging. What were a bunch of logical, risk-averse middle-aged people thinking? We prepare. We plan. We whole-heartedly embrace prudence. So, again I say: it’s unclear who actually chose the route, who is to blame for embarking on The Hike of Horror.

 But God knows.

And God will punish this person.

THE SUSPECTS

  People hike for many reasons: exercise, experiencing the great outdoors, facing a challenge, watching wildlife, pooping in the woods (falls under facing a challenge). I enjoy hiking for the silence, the time and space to contemplate life, the feeling of being truly away. When the hike is hard and demanding, you focus on each step lest you fall to a painful death; everything else chattering in your mind must become silent. When it is easier and relaxing, I cherish letting my mind wander as I move through trees and amble over rocks and mud. For a long time, I only wanted to hike alone. The idea of company was... of concern.

There can be no worse punishment than hiking with a jackass. And if you spend just a little bit of time on populated trails (and many aren’t), you’ll find these creatures in spades. These are the loud, know-it-alls who are compelled to pontificate about their expertise and experience to everyone in earshot (and they seem to always have booming voices the makes "within earshot" equals everyone on the mountain). The asinine part of this is that, especially in the White Mountains, there is always someone with more experience, more strength, and more wisdom. When compiling a team, you must make sure you exclude these characters lest you find yourself in an orbit of annoyance, an annoyance superseded only by swarming black flies.

Our team is perfect. Chris is both our guru and our entertainment, hilariously witty while possessing delightfully hysterical quirks that make him endlessly enjoyable. He’s also been climbing the Whites for decades, which would make you think he couldn’t get lost. We've now know better. Chris is not allowed to be in front on descents because he ditches the rest of the team, flying down like a winged creature (or an immortal, insane, daredevil teenage boy). Kevin is our power house: the most fit while also being the only one who views this as a social event rather than a workout/competition. He’s the first one to tell you that you’re doing great when you are cursing various aspects of the experience including your boots, socks, the rocks, mud, air, rain, wind, etc. Kevin is not allowed to take his shirt off because he’s ripped and it makes the rest of us look fat. Jamie is our project manager: mapping the route, printing and laminating said maps, and ensuring we are totally prepared. This includes ensuring we have the correct food, first aid supplies, ear plugs, back up maps, and -- of course -- a solid schedule. Jamie is not allowed to be in front on ascents because he sets an unfair pace. And I’m there to eavesdrop on as many conversations as possible, take mental pictures of important scenes, and then present our adventures in whatever manner I see fit, regardless of factual substance. I’m also the weakest. And I make all the above-stated rules, each of which is totally ignored by my companions.

I should note that we’re all family, connected by blood or marriage. This, therefore, introduces the elements of sibling rivalry, marital spats/threats of divorce, ripping on family members who are not there, and, of course, ripping on each other in ways only family can.

We are a perfect unit. Unless they’re conspiring to fire me from the team. In which case, they all suck.