Reach Out!

Mt. Washington is bipolar, a mountain that is a challenging hike, but that absolutely anybody can summit.  It has its own, rapidly-changing weather, deadly in winter.  Hell, in summer the it can be dangerous with dramatic drops in temperature over a few minutes and hurricane-force winds.  But you don't have to be an alpinist to visit that summit.  You can drive up the auto road and stop at the top for selfies, souvenirs and snacks.  Or you can ride the cog railroad.

The walk up is steep and demanding. On the most popular route, Tuckerman Ravine, you climb 4250 feet over a distance of 4 miles.  And you must be prepared for those weather changes.  My 1983 copy of the White Mountain Guide refers to an "appalling and needless loss of life" on the mountain.  I have been caught in snow flurries in August more than once.  There is a wilderness trail, too, through the Great Gulf, that has no crowds at all.  That is a seven-and-a-half mile walk with a 5000-foot climb.  But most people agree that the Huntington Ravine Trail is the most difficult.  In fact, they say it is the hardest trail in the White Mountains.  This reputation is all due to a section that is more climb than hike, where the trail traverses a section of rock slabs and cracks.  The Guide says that "the exposure on several of the ledges is likely to prove extremely unnerving to novices and to those who are uncomfortable in steep places."  Then, of course, there is that weather.  If this section is wet, it is not just scary, it is deadly.

I was on summer vacation, sitting at home in the Bronx, when my friend Bart called from New Hampshire.  He had attempted the Huntington Ravine route and been turned back.  Would I consider driving up so we could try it together?

I would!  I did!  We were standing together in the parking lot at Pinkham Notch getting ready to go about 36 hours later.

The first mile is on the crowded -- and steep, make no mistake -- Tuckerman Ravine Trail.  It was a relief to turn off onto the Huntington Trail and get away from the parade of people.  After another hour or so we got to the talus, the field of broken rocks that is called the Fan.  It is no great pleasure to walk, but the views are great.  We had been going about three hours and the day was getting warm when we arrived at the part that had turned Bart back two days earlier.

Bart was climbing up this smooth rock slab in front of me (and above me) when his boot began slipping.  I grabbed the back of his heel and pressed the front of his sole hard against the rock, which stopped his slide. He continued up the slab.

That's my story.  I had to do the same thing maybe two more times, but the rest of the hike was uneventful.  It was a beautiful day.  It was rewarding to reach the top and look around at the rest of the Presidentials.  The walk down, by another trail, was hard on my toes.  But the story is that Bart reached out to me, I reached back, and we were able to complete a demanding climb.

In 2011 a graduating class of high school seniors, who had only known me as principal when they were freshmen, generously asked me to be their commencement speaker.  I spoke to them about the people who were closing their school, diminishing and demeaning their achievements.  I told them how much their invitation meant to me.  And I said:

So I ask you to remember that, what you did for me by reaching out and remembering me.  I want you to remember that whenever you are ready to surrender to self-doubt: to the feeling that you don't matter.  I ask you to remember that whenever you are ready to surrender to contempt for others, whenever you are ready to surrender to greed or selfishness or hatred.  There is a wolf right out there, so close you can touch him.  That wolf feeds on doubt and hatred and greed... and that wolf is always hungry.  That's the wolf that encourages us to hurt one another... or ourselves.

But that wolf is not the only one out there.  There is something else right out there, too.  And that is our love for each other, our support and our care.  All those things are right there within our grasp.  Just waiting.

I was reminded of these things last week.  For the person next to us, this moment may be rock bottom, convincing proof that all their efforts are doomed to failure, that the universe is rigged against them.  We don't have to make that person our project.  We don't have to fix everything for them.  We just have to reach out a helping hand.  We just have to grab their heel once and press their boot against the rock.  That is what changes the world from desperately inhospitable to a Garden of Eden.