WINTER 2023 | 39 I fell on the ice. About two miles into the hike, I met Jon, a solo hiker who clearly knew what he was doing. His pack was sized properly and filled with gear, he had a reliable GPS system, and he was prepared with snowshoes. Jon and I didn’t hike together, but we did take turns breaking trail (a term used to describe the process of forcing your way through fresh snow on a trail, creating a “path”—ideally with snowshoes) every now and then. Soon after, I met Ron, another solo hiker who knew what he was doing. He was planning on hiking Mt. Marcy, Gray, and Mt. Skylight that day but as the weather changed, he decided to just do Marcy. Ron tried to lead the way up to the summit, but the wind was blowing all of the snow around, making it difficult to see. He waited for Jon and me to catch up. I arrived first, then Jon followed about five minutes later. We used Jon’s GPS system to find our way up to the summit. Come to find out, the three of us had gotten severely off track and ended up climbing off-route. We reached the summit together. The hike down was a challenge. I was, again, slipping on every patch of ice. Jon gave me his trekking poles to use for my descent. I think about that often. He made his descent more difficult, just to make mine safer. I was overwhelmed on my way down, in all the right ways. I reached a spot of service about 0.6 miles off the summit and immediately called my family to let them know that I was able to summit. I don’t think any of us understood the severity of what I was doing prior to the hike. I was incredibly ill-prepared, which could have caused a horrible ending. Once I reached the car after my hike, I saw Ron in the parking lot. He yelled from his car, “Great job today, Maria!” It is very likely that he thought I was a fool climbing up there with my lack of equipment, rightfully so. Despite this, he still encouraged me and played a large role in my safety that day. My drive home was spent singing along to Luke Combs and occasionally pulling the car over to take pictures of the mountains. This hike was a transformative moment in my life. It was the start of a lifelong passion. Two weeks later, I made that two and a half–hour drive again. This time, I did research and decided that it would be best to hike a lower peak. Four days after that hike, I made another two and a half hour–drive to the mountains to hike again. Ten days after that, I hiked another, slowly easing my way into the high peaks. I purchased my first pack during this time, bought Nalgene bottles and a hydration bladder, non-cotton clothing, and took classes through my college where I learned how to use a map and compass, backcountry safety, and earned my Wilderness First Responder certification. It has now been a couple years since my first Mt. Marcy adventure, and I have climbed it two times since, along with other high peaks. I still make that two and a half–hour drive to the mountains and listen to Luke Combs on the way back as the mountains pass by, bringing me back to my first trip. The high peaks will always hold a place in my heart, no matter where I venture off down the road. They have taught me valuable lessons and given me meaningful experiences—something that is irreplaceable.
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