LOCALadk Magazine

LOCALadk 46 pose. Dad snaps off a picture that I keep to this day. We start back down Mount Redfield but we realize soon after that there's no way we'll make it back before dark. We spend the last six hours of this 16- hour hike in the dark, walking by the light of a single flashlight. Dad's always prepared but our extra bat- teries have died. The trail is too narrow for us to hike side by side, so Dad walks in front, and I walk behind him, holding the flashlight off to his side so that we can both see the trail ahead. The Adirondack Moun- tains demand so much. It only seems fitting that they require such a challenge from Dad and me for my 46th peak. Karen and I are on the home stretch of the White- face trail, an open section, with views of the signature weather station on top, and the valley floor far below to the east. We take our final steps and reach the sum- mit. I ask Karen how she feels. She turns towards me and gives a triumphant thumbs up. Despite the issues with her back, she's done it. Her training and determi- nation have paid off. There's not a huge amount of fanfare here. The feel- ing of the accomplishment is more subtle, and rever- ent, and a fist bump and tired but satisfied smile is all that's required to punctuate this moment. Kathy has no doubt reached the summit of Mt. Esther. I wonder what's going through her mind, but I know she must be feeling proud of what she's achieved today. She hadn't put in as many miles of training as she has for previous hikes, but she knew she was going to give it everything that she had, and what she had to give was more than enough on this day. Karen reaches into her pack and pulls out a rock, which came from our father's property in Pennsylva- nia, and which she hauled each step of this trek. She holds the rock in the palm of her hand, as a symbol, a tribute. A tribute not to the accomplishment of the hike, but to Dad. The rock that she holds in her hand, the bucket hat that she wears on her head, both "pieces" of Dad, reassurances that he's here with us in spirit. As I look out upon the high peaks, miles away to the south, I reflect on so many adventures of the past in these mountains, so many moments etched into my memory, so much precious time spent with family. Then my awareness returns to the present moment and I think more about the experience of this day for Karen, Kathy, and I. "Thanks Dad" is what I imagine each of us is thinking to ourselves in our own way. And neither at the funeral home, nor at the cemetery, but on these mountain tops, on this hallowed ground – this is the appropriate place for that gratitude. Dad: Thanks for your greatest gift to us, the leg- acy of this wonderful, magical place, and this ritual of climbing mountains in the Adirondack Mountains, of 4,000 feet in elevation or greater, known as the "Adirondack 46." The Adirondacks, this place where we share countless memories together, and where each of us holds our own set of unshared memories near and dear to our hearts. t Pete can be reached at petebdk1@gmail.com Below: Mt. Colden's false summit. Right: The next generation of hikers, by Pete LeRoy

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