(A.K.A Fuckin' Stupid Mountain!)
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This is a picture from somewhere on the trail. It was early on, because it got to be too much hassle to get the camera out of the pack just for pictures! I have another, but this is the only one I scanned. There is even a picture of me up there somewhere. If you send money, I may post it.... |
February 6th 1999 So, I went hiking at the McClellan Butte trail. Good thing I had crampons! Almost the entire trail was covered in snow, it was snowing the whole way practically. The first part did not need it, but it got deep quickly. First, it was only 6 inches or so. Put the crampons on. Before we knew it, the snow was 3 feet deep. The only trail we had were the marks of the other group of idiots who were hiking ahead of us. Feet freezing from being continuously submerged in snow, we continued up, until we met the other hikers who stopped for a, uh, beverage and 'relaxation' break. One of them was blazing the trail with snowshoes, so at this point there was no more trail. Just a shitload of deep snow. I think smart people would have said, "Hey, let's go back." But we had a bad case of snowdelirium. I went first (as usual) and blazed my own friggin' trail! A couple of notes here. At this point on the mountain, it got very steep. Normally, trails have a lot of switchbacks that meander across the slope so that you are not hiking vertically up the mountain side. But there was now 3-4 feet of snow and even larger drifts, and no references to a destinctive trail. So, being a stubborn, determined, and quiet delirious hiker, I blazed a trail vertically right up the mountain. Straight up. 45 degree grade, in 4 feet of snow. Did I mention my feet were cold and wet? We could see SKY! So we were close! We had to keep going, and I was getting pissed from continuously falling in the snow with every footstep, and no brackin' frackin' rackin' mountain was gonna whoop me! But, when we went up even further, it turned out that the sky was not the top, and it was late, and we still had about 3000 feet to decend before dark. So, reluctantly, we turned back. (And it was a good thing, too. The weather got really bad, really quickly.) All in all, it was a great hike. I would definately do it again, once the snow retreats. I HAVE to get to the top, dammit! it would also be nice to see the actual trail.... YAY!!!!!! I love hiking! New favorite pasttime! Woo Hoo! |
November 13, 1999, (Black Saturday)
I hate this fucking mountain. I hate it. Stupid thing always beats me. And I never seem to make it out there on a decent day weather-wise. Since my last adventure was thwarted by having no trail, no time, and a vertical ascent, I figured I needed to go back.
Granite Moutain on October 11 was my last hike before this. I breezed through that hike like it was flat, and it is supposed to be 'a leading cause of Thighus Fryus' according to my hiking bible. So, I figured I could whip this one. I went with Sunny on a very rainy & cold, windy, dreary November morning. My life and my mental state took a severe turn for the worse in the month since Granite. I was being treated like 'half a fag' for no good reason, I was beating myself up both mentally and physically, and I was not eating or sleeping right. But I wanted to go on this hike.
Bad idea. Bad, BAD idea! I was fine during the initial mile or so, up till the Iron Horse trail intersection. I still felt ok. Little wet, little weak, but I thought it would pass. NOT! It got wetter and wetter, and I got weaker and weaker.... It was hard enough to lift my legs, let alone climb anything! I was soaked with probably 30lbs of rain water, so that did not help. The trail was, well, muddy is not sufficient enough to describe it! No footing, no energy, no clue as to why I was doing this stupid hike.
It was a total disaster. There was even one spot where a tree had fallen, and you had to scramble up this muddy vertical root infested spot to get around it and back on the trail. So naturally, I fell. Landed hard on my ribcage, and they hurt for days. Despite everything, we kept going, and finally made it around to the other side where the tarns were, but it started to go back down a bit, and we (me, whining) opted to stop.
This was my Waterloo. This was Paul's Defeat at Mclellan Butte. I thought I was done with hiking, because this one just about killed me. But I realized it was because I was just not taking proper care of myself. I've done more since then, and I am feeling more confident about the grades I embark on. Slowly but surely I will get over this feeling of defeat. But I will never forget it.
Who is this goober in the shot!?
Oh, and Mr. Mountain, I WILL be back! You will not beat me a third time! You just wait, punk-ass stupid gay mountain! :)
July 26, 2000 Paul's Victory Dance.
| Demons. Everyone has personal demons. Sometimes these demons exist deep within our psyche. They affect us everyday, or when we least expect it. These demons usually come from past experiences or people who have wronged us. They make us cynical and afraid. Personal demons develop after horrific events, or childhood trauma, or from being hurt emotionally or physically by a loved one. Everyone has them. Each of us have to confront our demons head-on, as it is the only way to purge their evil from our souls. I have a demon. A demon that has haunted me and taunted me for a year and a half. My demon must be purged in order to continue on with my life the way it is now. This demon has a name. Its name, is McClellan Butte. Yes, my demon is a mountain trail. A trail that taunted me on my first attempt in February '99 by denying completion. Despite bad weather and no gear and no trail, I was determined to finish it, but it beat me. It haunted me all summer. Then, in the throws of mental despair and poor physical condition, it called me again in November '99. So, I went. You know the story. The mountain tried to kill me. It called me out in a weakened condition in order to further its torment of my hiking soul. But on this day. I emerged victorious! |
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I headed out at normal work time and got to the trail at 7-something, and there was only one car in the lot besides me. That is the ONLY way to do these I-90 hikes. I headed up the trail at 7:45 or so, and blazed right through the first 1.5 miles.
Unfortunately, that was the end of the blazing. The rest of it was slow. It took me 3 hours. This stupid mountain is 5100ft tall, with 3700ft elevation gain in 4.4 miles. That is actually misleading, because in the first 1.5 mile, you only gain about 700 feet total. So, effectively, 2.9 miles and 3000 feet. Calf-ripper, thigh-burner, lung-scorcher. The damn thing tried to keep me away, with a weird bum hip, and downed trees, and mosquitos out the ying-yang, and the occasional stumble.
Oh yeah, and the gullies. The gullies were all snowfree on the trail, except for the big one, which you had to cross. It was much taller than I was.
| Anyway, I got to the place we stopped last time, and continued on. I was only 30-fucking-minutes away from the end. |  |
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The
end? Not worth it. Views of the local I-90 area are only
par, with all the second growth and clearcuts. And there
was stil some fog and clouds. The coolest part was the
rock at the top, and just the perspective of looking
waaaaaaaaay down on I-90. Sweet. So, this goober has
purged a demon, and now I can tackle the real hikes.
Stupid mountain. I got you, bitch.
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