That February Ascent of Mt. Washington, or Why I Am a Complete Idiot

So that's where I got the idea. Now you may be wondering, why the blog? Am I just another millenial publicity hog trying to squeeze "likes" out of a distracted world?

No! There is a reason I'm putting all this online, and the reason is that I'm an absolute idiot.

Yup. That one. Right there. Dummkopf.

Allow me to explain.

Last February, to prepare for the rigors of the western peaks, I took a three-day mountaineering class in New Hampshire.

The drive up there was an adventure in itself. I'd planned to split the twelve-to-thirteen hours promised by Google Maps over two days, but I was grounded by freezing rain on the first day, so I ended up driving all the way from Virginia to North Conway, NH in a single push. It didn't help that the freezing rain warmed and intensified into a deluge that followed me up I-84, or that I hit rush hour halfway through and had to take the long way around the urban centers of Connecticut and Massachusetts, or that the entirety of northern New England was covered in near-impenetrable fog (as I later discovered, I could have hit a moose on the highway). By the time I arrived, fifteen hours after setting out (Travel tip #1: Google Maps always underestimates drive time on country roads), I was ready to collapse into my hotel bed and sleep clear into the spring.

Which, of course, is exactly what I didn't do. My class started at 8 AM sharp the next morning, and I needed to get there early to buy a bunch of required cold-weather gear I couldn't find for sale in Virginia... because in three days we were going up Mt. Washington.