Greylock

Greylock. The very name inspires awe and wonderment. Towering above Massachusetts at a height of 3,491 feet, Mount Greylock, the highest point in the Bay State has beckoned the intrepidest of the intrepid to attempt scaling its lofty heights for eons. Many have tried. Most have succeeded.

We left the oxygen-rich safety of Boston early on the morning of Saturday, May 23nd. We bid farewell to Phoebe, the cat. Knowing that we might never return, we left an extra dish of food out. We drove west on the Mass turnpike, using those precious three hours to produce the extra red blood cells we would need for the travails ahead. We took the Corolla as far as it could take us, loaded our meager provisions into backpacks, and began the arduous 1.5 mile trek to base camp.

It was nice, they had toilets, water, and free firewood. We pitched camp.

We then took another equally arduous hike to Stony Ledge, elev. 2560 ft., from which we got our first glimpse of the imposing figure of Greylock. Intimidating to the extreme, we searched our souls for the strength we'd need to drag our fragile bodies up its sheer, jagged face.

Then we went to a pretty waterfall.

The trek back down was quiet and introspective, the trials tomorrow would bring looming heavily on our minds. But tomorrow would come soon enough. We pushed thoughts of our fragile mortality aside, for tonight we would have s'mores made with Peeps. Yummy.

Dawn broke early after a surprisingly restful night of sleep. Zero hour. Time to test our mettle against Greylock's cold, dizzying heights. The ascent began smoothly enough. Suddenly, at about 3,300 feet, our Sherpa was stricken with high altitude cerebral edema and went mad, babbling incoherently about Transformers and having to get back to his scout troupe. Or was it cerebral eczema? It's impossible to say since my oxygen deprived brain could only recall the most rudimentary of medical terminology such as "Charley horse" and "Wiener." In any event, having no oxygen canisters with which to save his life, we did the only humane thing and ran him through with his pocket knife. After pinning a note of explanation to his neckerchief, we somberly pushed on to the summit where we ate Nature Valley Sweet and Salty granola bars with almonds, Laughing Cow pasteurized cheese spread, and Triscuits (original recipe). It's what our brave, fallen Sherpa, Steven K., would have wanted. Atop the summit, past the parking lot and near the interpretive center, we saw another cruel site. A stone obelisk, presumably hewn from the virgin rock by the gods themselves would need to be scaled if we truly wanted to say we'd been to the highest point in the state.

Drawing on reserves of strength I didn't know I had, I climbed the stairs to the top of the tower. Alas, mist obscured views of the Green Mountains of New Hampshire, Albany, NY, and the entire Tibetan plateau. Exhausted, humbled, but triumphant, we descended from the death zone and bid farewell to Mount Gaycock, as it's known in the language of Steven K's. people. We returned to Boston damp but elated. Then we had pizza. You know who loved Pizza? Steven K.

Steven K.

1998-2009

Friend, Sherpa, Pizza Lover

Liz here. Thank you Rick for the rich description of our travels to the Berkshires. Yes, we indeed traveled to Mount Greylock State Park in the Berkshires for a couple days of hiking and camping. My number one goal of the whole trip was not to summit Mount Greylock, but to slowly roast my Easter Peeps (that's right, my mom still sends me an Easter basket) over some red hot coals. I had heard that the outer layer of granulated suger crisps up really nice. An important side note about s'mores, I learned many years ago from Rick's mom to use canned chocolate frosting instead of a Hershey's bar, one of the best pieces of cooking/baking advice I've ever gotten. Needless to say, the peep s'mores (which I deemed s'meeps) were delish!

Phoebe was over joyed upon our return home. We had left her a small pile of catnip on a plate in the kitchen. When we got home the plate was at the other end of the kitchen and the catnip was strewn everywhere, seems that someone got a little crazy while her parents were out of town.