The list of NH 48 for me was a wonderful thing. It had a starting point and an ending point. It was a goal clearly defined and helpful to someone like me who was not a hiker and needed some guidelines to get to the point where I felt comfortable to later get "out there" and do whatever I wanted to do. I figured that as long as I had "the list" I was doing fine. It was like following a map and I could gauge myself as I went along.
For me, the 48 had a different purpose. I started this May with the intention of doing them all for my Dad, who at 85 might not be around too much longer. When I finished in August I felt both relief and sadness. I had delivered the gift I wanted to give my father, but suddenly a sense of intense purpose was over. Afterwards the intensity was missed, but for those three months I was of a single-minded purpose. I didn't get sick; my injuries did not keep me from the trail; I was fixated on finishing. It was an obsession. For three months everything I had went into getting up to the mountains each weekend. It was simple and it was focused. When the obsession ended, I fell into an abyss of sorts. I became a little depressed. I came down with the flu. The aches and pains that had accumulated over the prior three months made it difficult to hike as much in the following month and in some cases made it even difficult to stand when first getting out of bed.
On top of the physical ailments of overuse there were mental and emotional challenges too. Years ago a study was done on marathon runners and Ironman-distance triathletes who were in training for one specific race. Once the race was over the majority of them experienced something akin to postpartum depression. When you are obsessed with the list as I was, and some others are, this is the pitfall that awaits the finish of the 48th.
I can remember getting to number 42 or 43 and seeing the end so clearly in reach and getting sentimental about it, as if I didn't want it to end. I wrote this before, and believe it even more now, that for me, submitting myself to the list gave me a chance to become something I hadn't been before, it gave me something greater than myself to surrender to.
Now, I look at my hikes differently. I hike what I want to hike and when I want to hike. One of the posters/hikers out here who most intrigues me is Dr. Wu, whose exquisite sense of adventure and play is something many of us could do with more of. Now that I'm done with the 48 I plan on playing a lot more in the mountains and letting my sense of adventure take over.
For me, the list was needed to get me started, and to get me to the point where I am now. Which is a place Joseph Campbell wrote about at great length when he defined "Hero's Journey" in his book, The Hero With A Thousand Faces. The quest, he argued, is not over when one accomplishes his or her goal, finds the buried treasure, rescues the damsel in distress, saves his family or friends, (or finishes the list of 48). The quest, he argued, was not complete until the person on the quest not only gets what he or she was looking for, but then finds a way to integrate all that was learned or gained along the way to help make the world, the city, the community or family a better place...the treasure must be shared with others. Having finished my quest, I now find myself bringing other newcomers to the mountains and watching them get hooked on the outdoors and in my little community, where I wrote about my chase of the 48 quite frequently, I have discovered there are many others who are now enraptured with the idea of losing themselves in the mountains. For them, just as it was for me, the list is a fine introduction to the mountains and adventures awaiting all of us who were previously ignorant to their pleasures.
But to address the original post, I was obsessed before the first 4,000-footer of the year. I was obsessed once a friend put the Smith/Dickerman 4,000-Footer book in my hands over the winter.
