Member-only story
Camelback Mountain Kicked My Ass
And I’m glad
I climbed Camelback Mountain in Phoenix, Arizona, this past weekend with two of my coworkers. One of them, Julie, had already bailed, but Abby and I kept going. Julie had nothing to prove and knew her limitations. She said she would just chill and wait for Abby and me.
We had just passed the helicopter landing pad. Approximately 200 hikers need to be rescued from Camelback and surrounding trails each year.
My legs were shaky and I felt dizzy. I had taken a Xanax on the plane earlier that day, and I could still feel the effects.
“Shit. Abby, I need to stop for a second.”
About a half-hour earlier, Abby and I had encountered a local, who was booking it up the trail. He looked about 10 years older than me, and super fit.
“How far to the top?”
He looked at us with a scowl.
“That depends. 15 minutes?”
He seemed bothered that we had asked him the question and scurried away.
After the landing pad, the trail had become extremely treacherous. There was about a six-foot-wide climbing area and a major drop-off on either side. That 15 minutes turned into 30, and we weren't even at the top yet.