The Winter Storm Experience Customized by Mount Katahdin

"Are you ready to hike?" My father asked me as my mother finished lacing up my boots. I was eight years old at the time, so you would expect that I would have been tying my hiking boots. The problem was that my snowsuit made it, so every time I leaned over to tie them up, I would fall over onto my face. So to save me from the longing attempt to get back up to my feet, my mother tied them up for me instead.

"No," I answered my father back honestly. "It's cold out today."

"You will be fine and get through it. See." He pointed over at my older sister. "Bev is already ready." Bev had all her winter gear on, standing over by the cabin door, waiting for the rest of us. She had already picked out the stick she would use as a cane for a hike. My parents use metal poles, but they have never bought any for my sister or me, so we always solemnly depend on nature for our tools.

"Isn't it snowing?" I asked. "No." My father responded quickly. "It's just the wind. Don't jinx yourself out. You'll make the hike bad for yourself if you do." "Stewart…" My mother said, finishing tying up my second shoe. My father ignored her since the two of them had already had an hour-long fight about doing this hike earlier today.

I fumbled off the chair I was sitting in, ensuring I kept my balance once I was on my feet. My snow pants chaffed against each other as I walked to the door. My sister was outside now, stabbing her walking stick into the snow, trying to break the layer of ice covering the top. I wobbled my way down the stairs and went over next to her. Her nose and cheeks were already turning pink.

"Everyone ready?" I heard my father ask from behind us. We were hiking up the Saddle Trail today. The plan had arisen out of the blue. My father had talked about how he wanted to hike Mount Katahdin in the winter again back in November. There was already snow on the mountain, and watching it go from sparkly granite rocks to blinding white snow exhilarated him. It just came as quite a surprise to my sister, mother, and me when the day he chose to face the snow-piled ledges happened to be on a freezing day in January. We couldn't tell if he felt the need for an excursion or if it was simply another check-off on his New Year's Resolutions list.

We started up the trail, having an instant elevation gain due to already having camped out halfway up the mountain the night before. I continued wobbling up the snowy hill that seemed never-ending. The trees surrounding us buried themselves in snow. I would swiftly glide my glove across the branch as the snow lightly fell off the long pine needles, like a gentle winter snowfall. I held my tongue out, accepting as much hydration as the trees offered.

"Keep moving!" I heard my father shout from behind me. I was at the front, leading our line of hikers. Now only holding us back, instead. I continued moving along, though the cold started tiring me. I somehow wasn't shivering but felt a lack of energy. I just kept on trudging up the endless white-covered hill ahead of us.

Once we got out of the tree line and lost our wind protectors, it seemed like we had lost our trail too. Though it wasn't snowing, the wind was so strong that all the fresh snow from the night before was flurrying around, creating Katahdins' form of a storm. My father guided us through the endless stir of flurries so that my sibling or I wouldn't accidentally guide us right off a ledge, only to go rolling down and truly become a frozen snow human. As we went along, I continued growing more and more tired. My body wasn't shivering but burning, almost as if I'd stayed in a hot tub for too long. My little mind grew more confused instead of anxious. Guessing my body was only reacting to the exercise my father had thrown me into for the day. My mother took on the anxiety for my small self, staying behind with me once I started to slow down as my sister and father hiked ahead. My mind grew fuzzier, my body oh so sweatier, but I continued to lumber along, keeping my eyes on the blinding snow below my feet. My eyes were squinted in reaction while staring straight down at the snow, but at least they weren't streaming with tears like they would whenever I looked up and became blinded by the reflection of the sun off the snowy mountain.

I grew more tired, resulting in myself only moving slower and slower. I felt like a snail, having never previously struggled this much on Mount Katahdin. "That's it. We are turning around, sweetie." My mother said to me. She kneeled and wiped away the snot running down my face with her buff. I tried to debate but couldn't build up enough energy within me. I just turned around and started following her down the trail, only looking at the snowy ground. I seemed to have missed my favorite pine needle trees because the next thing I could recall was going from the imagery of the snowy trail that I followed to the sudden welcoming warmth of the fireplace in the cabin.

"I told him we should have waited for a clear day, but he kept arguing and getting mad at me." My mother grumbled as we both sat next to the fireplace. "What do you mean, Mama? It was so sunny today. That was just the wind making the snow fly around." I said. "No, Hunny, last night we had gotten a storm warning. Katahdin didn't want to scare you because it would decrease your energy even faster, so she made the storm look like a simple gust of wind. She was being generous today. That is why you always listen to the mountains over the humans. Especially with the safety of your life while hiking. When hikers get hurt, it is not because the mountain was too dangerous and tricked them. It is because they did not listen. The mountains tell you the truth because it is the only thing they know."