Today I decided to take on Mailbox Peak for a second time. The weather at the start was overcast with rain threatening. Temperature was in the upper 50's. There was 4 of us taking the trek. Beside myself I was joined by The King of Ireland, Donal, his good woman, Natasha, and a Kiwi named Phil(?).
My legs felt good, and I had a lot of confidence that this would be finished with a relative amount of ease. That being said, at about 1 mile in I began to think to myself, "Why exactly have I made the conscious decision to spend my Sunday putting myself through hell?" For some reason I lacked motivation today. It is probably the first time that I had faced that. I know that it is good for my last major training climb, but Mailbox is not fun. I learned that last time, and seemed to have forgotten rather quickly. Nonetheless, I pushed on, and Donal and I managed to reach the summit in a respectable 2 hours and 40 minutes. The peak was fogged in, and there was no view to be had. After a quick bit, it was time to embark on the worst part of Mailbox. The trip down.
Donal and I managed to keep a decent pace on the way down, taking advantage of any shortcut we could find (Sorry WTA). In the end, we managed to get to the bottom in 1 hour and 50 minutes. Pretty good time. My knees and quads are sore, but it was certainly easier than last time. Of course that is like saying hell felt a couple of degrees cooler today.
I think my major training for Rainier is done. In my last 2.5 weeks I have climbed Mailbox Peak and to Camp Muir twice each. That equates to just under 30 miles hiked, and almost 20,000 feet of elevation gained - just going up. 40,000 feet of elevation up and down. Time for a beer.
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