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10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
First Edition
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5
April comes a few weeks later, and, since the snow
around our house has fully melted, I figure it’s time to
give one of these mountains a go. Mount Tecumseh, a
ski mountain my family has noticed while driving into
nearby Waterville Valley, is not too far from our house.
A quick Google search tells me it stands more than
4,000 feet high— 4,003 feet, to be exact. Another
quick search reveals that its peak can be reached after
only 2.2 miles of hiking—2.2 miles! Alex can do that;
I’m sure of it. She hiked 4 to 6 miles every day with-
out complaint during last year’s trip to Maine’s Acadia
National Park, when she was only four years old. She
shouldn’t have any problems. Sage? Well, we’ll see. We
can always turn back if she gets too tired.
Though there’s no snow on the ground by our house,
I figure there might still be some left on the peaks, so I
bundle up both excited kids in their regular snowsuits
and boots. Feeling proud of myself for thinking ahead,
I pack some gloves, hats, water, and food into a small
backpack. How proud we’ll all be when we reach the
top! What a great feat we are going to accomplish! The
three of us climb into our car and take off, envisioning
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see a relatively flat stretch just ahead and urge the girls
onward.
We reach the flat stretch, but instead of experienc-
ing a reprieve, the snow on this stretch has lost its firm-
ness and we are no longer walking on a flat sidewalk.
Every five steps, someone’s foot punches through and
makes a hole several inches deep. Sage continues to
complain, her voice getting louder by the minute. Al-
ex’s forehead now has a furrow, and she asks if we can
stop for a water break.
It’s difficult to fi nd a place to rest, since sitting
means sinking into the snow. After a few minutes, we
fi nd a large rock whose flat surface is just above the
snowline. I sit both girls down, dig out the water bottle,
and hand it to my eldest.
Alex looks discouraged as she tilts the bott le to her
lips. She doesn’t seem fatigued, though. I wonder how
far we’ve come . . . a mile? It’s obvious just by looking
around that we are nowhere near the summit. Can she
make it all the way up? Does she want to?
Sage doesn’t look discouraged. She looks down-
right upset.
“Are you okay, honey?” I ask.
“No,” she mumbles, looking down at her lap.
“Getting tired?”
“Yes.”
“Would you like me to carry you?”
“Yes.”
We continue onward, Alex and I sinking inches
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The girls and I wait out the last of the spring thaw
by hiking flat, snow-free trails at lower elevations to try
out our boots and gear. We walk for hours at a time,
Alex consistently happy and strong, and Sage content
as long as we don’t go more than four miles. At the end
of our hikes, Sage is worn out while Alex only seems
energized. There is no doubt in my mind that if we at-
tempt a snow-free Tecumseh, Alex will summit. I read
and reread the two guidebooks while the three of us
wait for the springtime sun to dry out the trails.
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