While I enjoy and appreciate nature, I am far from accustomed to rigorous hiking and getting my shoes muddy. Most of the time, I’d rather curl up with a book and read other people waxing poetic about sunsets and mountains. I am far from athletic, I manage to whack my head on things daily, and “roughing it” entails drinking my coffee without sugar. Bears scare the crap out of me. Basically, I am the antithesis of a rugged hiker.
So why would someone like me agree to climb forty-eight 4,000 ft. mountains? I am easily enticed by a challenge. I love everything about ascending a mountain, even if I’m not very good at it–powering past the timberline, discovering hidden gems like waterfalls and old pump houses, and admiring the view from the summit. However, the best part is accomplishing these feats with someone you care about. The high that I got from ascending Mt. Greylock with Colin this past November was indescribable, and I’m all for experiencing it 48-fold.
By resolving to conquer at least 48 mountains, I ultimately hope to develop a stronger passion for hiking, get super ripped, and experience some amazing feats that will enrich my and Colin’s relationship. And to not sob when I see a bear. That would be cool, too.