As I walked, I could think of nothing but standing atop Moosilauke. My brain, previously recollecting all the experiences of the last 4 months, went quiet. I kept my eyes on the orange summit sign glowing against the bright blue sky. I could only hear my breathing over the gusting wind. Step after step, I drew closer until I was finally standing directly in front of it.  The summit marker for Mt. Moosilauke: 4,802 feet, in all its glory.

“I am so looking forward to not having to do any more of these hikes with you!” Jason yelled as I ran out of earshot, heading back to the car. We had walked about a half-mile of our Sandwich Range Traverse before I realized that I had forgotten the keys for our car spot at the end of the traverse. And that wasn’t even the start of the issues I had already faced so far that morning.

Jason, Fred, Porter and I drove north with the windows rolled down, enjoying the sunshine and warm air. It was March 12th, and despite knocking off an uneventful trip to the Kinsmans on the 6th, I still had 8 mountains to summit in the 7 days of winter that remained in the 2015-2016 season. I hadn’t allowed myself much wiggle room if something were to go wrong, but I tried not to think about that as we cruised along, our Dunkin' Donuts in hand, headed towards the North Twin trailhead.