Wonderfully Exhausting

As soon as we turned our bikes from pavement onto the dirt single track, the littlest one let out a petulant, disbelieving groan. Somehow, in the excited discussion about going for a family bike ride, she hadn’t expected THIS: bumpy dirt, knobby roots to maneuver, long grass scratching against bare legs. Through the course of the ride – a mere two miles or so – we went from frustrated to joyful, back and forth, a dozen times.

“A mixture of wonderful experiences and parental exhaustion,” is how another mother – with two children younger than mine – recently described her family’s vacation. I feel as if that is a pretty accurate description of nearly every family outing. And, many days, of raising kids, no matter how old they are.

Growing is hard work. Learning new skills is hard work. Figuring out all the different ways the world operates is hard work. It is sometimes exhausting for the kids and the parents. It is sometimes exhilarating. Often, it is both of these – exhausting and exhilarating – nearly simultaneously.

Soon after the mini meltdown over the bike ride’s turn into the woods, we came to the biggest beaver dam I have ever seen. The kids hopped off their bikes and scampered over to check out the long, pointy-ended logs the beavers had felled. They examined how the sticks went together to create the dam and the section that had been breached, allowing water to flow through. We found a wildflower we didn’t know and snapped a picture of it to remind us to look it up later. (Bunchberry, it turns out.)

Riding over the roots was challenging. The complaining about said roots – and working to keep my parental composure as a meltdown ensued – was slightly exhausting. Discovering the beaver dam and checking it out was a pretty wonderful experience, and hopefully one my kids will remember – and want to relive on some future bike ride along the same trail.

I remember being on family hikes as a kid and feeling as if they would never end, whether we were on a short jaunt or a hut-to-hut overnight trek. But once we reached the top, the reward was great: a sense of personal accomplishment, and amazing views of the lowlands from which we had ascended, stretched out now far below.

What I remember most from those adventures are the stories we’ve told over and over: playing cribbage with other hikers, eating weird green pasta in one of the huts, the thick clouds atop Mt. Lafayette that obscured the rest of the world, the weight of my little brother’s backpack after a day of collecting rocks along the trail.

From those outings (which I imagine included a good dose of my own folks’ parental exhaustion) I gained a lasting appreciation of the outdoors and exploring it, the realization that hard work often pays big dividends, and the knowledge that the view from a mountaintop, from a height attained by your own will and power, offers a vastly different perspective than the one you had pre-climb.

After we left the beaver dam last weekend, the rest of the ride included an ascent along a bumpy trail and a bit more complaining. But also the downhill on the other side of the hill, time spent drawing with sticks in the sand along the edge of a brook, scampering across the water over logs, and stopping to look at swallowtail butterflies. On the final stretch of single track, my youngest child slammed on her brakes and reached down to pick up the large empty cocoon of a cecropia moth: a tangible treasure to take away from the ride.

We emerged from the woods about a mile from where we’d parked the car, and the mostly-downhill paved return was smooth sailing. There was one final challenge at the end of the ride: a super-steep climb to reach the car. My older daughter was in the lead and pedaled her way to the top, then came back to cheer the others on. All three made it, pedal strokes gradually slowing with the exertion as they neared the top, arriving tired but happy.

I hope they remember – as I do – the happy more than the tired, that they take from these adventures more of the wonderful than the exhausting. I hope these experiences provide my children the awareness that often at the far side of a challenge is a big view, a thrilling rush of adrenaline, lessons learned, and memories to hold through many more adventures. 

Original content by Meghan McCarthy McPhaul, posted to her Blog: Writings From a Full Life. This essay also appears as Meghan's Close to Home column in the June 12, 2015 edition of the Littleton Record.

Making it to the top

Before last weekend, the last time I’d climbed to the top of Cannon Mountain without the aid of a chairlift, a mid-winter moon was rising over the broad, rocky shoulder of Mt. Lafayette, and I had snowshoes strapped to my feet. That quiet evening I was rewarded for my toil with a proposal, a sparkly ring, and a cold beer at the summit.

Almost there!

The scene on the hill last Saturday was markedly different, as I joined a line of sweating, gasping people winding up Cannon Mountain during the final leg of the 20^th Annual Top Notch Triathlon. This was my third Top Notch experience, my first coming as an “Ironwoman” 17 years ago, and my second when I ran the race as part of a relay team a decade ago.

My team this year included biker extraordinaire Martha Wilson, who pedaled a great opening leg, passing other riders on the road and in the woods, and all-around athletic superstar Melanie Harkless, who pounded through the swim across chilly Echo Lake and sent me on my way up the mountain with a shout of “Go! Go!” (Mel and I first met at race registration Saturday morning, and I learned after the race that she had previously won the Top Notch as an Ironwoman and held the course record for six years. I know how to pick a good team!)

My goal heading into the triathlon was to finish the climb in less time than it had taken me during my last Top Notch experience, 10 years and many life changes ago. I came within a minute of that goal, barely missing. Thanks to my super-fast teammates, our team finished first in the women’s relay team division, and 9^th out of 76 teams.

Over two decades, the TopNotch Triathlon has grown from a relatively small event to one that this year included 261 individual finishers and 76 relay teams, with racers arriving from throughout New England and as far afield as California, Alaska, and Switzerland.

Racers range from serious athletes to casual participants out for a good time, and the roster always includes plenty of locals in each of those categories. The race now even draws the occasional professional triathlete. Despite its growing popularity, the Triathlon remains a community affair, with a neighborly friendliness that stretches from morning registration through the finish high above Franconia Notch, some 10 miles and 3,320 feet in elevation gain later

Besides offering a fun challenge, the Top Notch is also run for a good cause. Proceeds from the event – more than $6,000 annually – go to the Lafayette Recreation Department, where the funds are used as seed money for projects like improving the playground and playing fields at the Dow Strip, installing a gazebo there, and creating new basketball and tennis courts in Franconia.

Milling around the start area before the race, I found a slew of familiar faces – friends, neighbors, kids I used to coach, parents of kids I used to coach, my children’s babysitter. They were all there to cheer someone on, to run the triathlon, or as race volunteers helping register competitors and direct traffic.

Among the crowd, of course, were the Cowles family: Tim and Kim who founded the Top Notch Triathlon back in 1992 and continue to orchestrate the event, and their kids Anne and Tucker.

Once Tim had started three waves of racers Saturday morning, he headed up to oversee the finish. After seeing to endless course set up and registration details, Kim, Anne and Tucker jumped on their bikes and ran the race.

As Top Notchers toiled up Cannon’s slopes Saturday, the mood on the hill remained convivial. Folks being passed on the mountain offered words of encouragement to other racers, even as they gasped for breath. One racer commiserated with a woman just ahead of me who was bleeding from bad scrapes on her thigh and shoulder incurred during the bike leg. A guy near the top gave me a wheezy pep talk as he surged slowly past.

I heard the crowd at the finish before I could see it, as I turned onto the Tramway trail and the final steep stretch. In that crowd were my teammates and my three young children, whose cheers of “Go, Mama, go!” were swallowed by the general shouts of encouragement. As I crossed the finish line, I was greeted by Jean McKenna, one of the friendliest faces around – and one of more than 60 race volunteers who helped orchestrate every Top Notch detail.

At the end of the climb this time around, my reward was high fives from my family, and joining a community of friends and neighbors in celebrating 20 years of a great event. I caught my breath and joined the crowd, which included a growing number of racers, to cheer others through the end. Buoyed by the cheers, as I had been, nearly every racer found a last burst of energy to run through the finish, breathless and smiling all at once.

This essay is also published in this week’s edition of the Record-Littleton.