In July 2020 my twin sister Madelynn and I had decided we were tired of being apart, of quarantining alone in our homes—mine in Syracuse, NY, where I was an MFA student drafting my first “novel” and hers in East London—rightfully cowering from a deadly pandemic whose end then seemed unfathomable. We decided we would overcome confinement by becoming hikers. Those were the kind of people we were. Not the kind who cowered from viruses and obsessed over death.Article continues after advertisement
We had never summited anything beyond a modest hill, but we just knew hiking Big Slide Mountain would be easy. Yes, Big Slide’s imposing height meant it had a place on the list of the Adirondack 46 High Peaks, a set of peaks in the Adirondack Mountains of New York. True, it had an elevation of 4,420 feet. And, sure, the AllTrails website alleged that the 9.4 mile ascent and descent would last eight hours, but we were pretty fast walkers. How hard could it be?
We bought hiking boots, rented a Corolla, and drove four hours east from Syracuse, NY to Lake Placid, NY. We drove to the trailhead at dawn and parked, the day’s impending heat foreshadowed by mosquitos and humidity. I left the big water jug I had brought in the car because there was no way I would need it.
