Mount Mansfield

mount mansfield
underhill, vermont

I'd like to think that everyone's first state high point holds a pretty special place in their hearts, however if you're first one resides in a state like Florida or Louisiana, you might not have as much of a memorable experience because it was likely a hill or mound that didn't really feel so high. My first memory of Mount Mansfield in Vermont was filled with moments of doubt followed by moments of badassery.

It all started with feeling like my lungs were about to collapse about a few hundred yards away from the lean-to we just left. It was great and I totally felt super strong and capable at that moment! I honestly considered going back because why the hell would anyone do this to themselves? so I just kept walking because what the hell would I do in a lean-to all day by myself?

From there it was nothing but up! That is until we got to a rock wall and I totally thought we could walk around it. At the time I didn't know what scrambling was, and now that I look back on it, it sure as hell still isn't scrambling. We bouldered up that mini rock wall and I felt pretty great again. I didn't fall and die to ruin everyone's trip, which was good news. All was right with the world and I didn't feel so lame, until we got to a crevasse that required a big jump. Fun fact: my husband constantly begs me to do kickboxing videos strictly so he can enjoy the grace of my jumping and punching skills. It was a fine moment of some practice jumps after everyone else basically stepped over it. I handed all of my gear to them because why on earth would I want anything extra weighing me down?!?!

We continued on and eventually made it to "the forehead," past the "nose," and onto "the chin" (our summit) which came with complimentary bees that chased you off after all of your hard work to get there. Either way, the trip was the most amazing experience of my life and was the first bit of red thread that began to weave into new adventures to make up the life I live today.