So, we’d made it up Mount Constitution (and more significantly given the weather, made it back down again). But while climbing perhaps should be a noble end unto itself, we did still wish to savor the view from the top.
So we did it all again.
We were amused to find this sign, pointing to one of our favorite NYC-area destinations
This time around the skies threatened as we headed out, and got downright ominous by the time we reached Moran State Park. Would the drizzle once again turn to snow? Descending a second time in nasty weather was not appealing. But neither was missing a chance at the view. So we took our chances and pedaled onward.
After some maddening indecision, the weather gods opted to come over to our side (maybe they just wanted to give us some moody photo opps first). By the time we made our way back to the top, the skies were clear and the view spectacular. And we could claim credit for that climb not once, but twice.
Here’s our route.
In mid-April we headed for a four-day trip to Orcas Island, part of the renowned San Juan Islands. Highlight: the climb up Mount Constitution. Lowlight: the descent down Mount Constitution.
While Timothy prospers at both climbing and descending, Paula had never before uttered the words “going up was a lot easier than going down.” Especially when we’re talking about 2,600 feet of vertical gain over 4.5 miles.
But here’s where heading up a Washington State mountain in mid-April proved perhaps not the best idea: The chilly rain that we encountered on the way to the mountain turned to snow and freezing temps at the summit. And after we spent arguably more time than was wise taking pictures at the top — the structure erected by the Civilian Conservation Corps in 1936 is a cool castle-fortress — our fingers could not feel the brake levers on the way back down again. Paula was quite certain she would die of frostbite, or at least lose a finger or two, as she quaked and quivered and shook and shivered while inching down what should have been a glorious descent.
Timothy, being the seasoned cold-mountain veteran that he is, found it simply a little annoying.
But we survived. And a few miles down the road, we took shelter in the welcome warmth of the Moran State Park offices — where the very kind staff took pity on us and served us hugely appreciated hot chocolate.