A mountain of second chances
Incremental thrills on Mount Chocorua
If you’ve spent any time waiting in lines at amusement parks, then you’ve probably experienced Rider’s Remorse. It’s that wave of nauseous contrition that hits you as the roller coaster car starts clicking and clacking its way up the lift hill. You’re strapped in. You can’t escape. What seemed like a great idea a few minutes ago now feels like a self-inflicted death sentence. The last time this happened to me was on Canobie Lake Park’s “Untamed,” which has a 72-foot vertical drop that had me shrieking so loudly that I’m still waiting to be served with a civil suit for rupturing my seatmate’s eardrum.
This sort of thing also happens with mountain climbing. You set off chasing the most tantalizing pinnacle on the horizon, only to find yourself quivering on a 12-inch ledge or a boulder scramble, too exposed and frightened to continue or retreat. Search-and-rescue crews are often dispatched to assist hikers who find themselves paralyzed by Climber’s Remorse and need to be persuaded forward or backward. (Huntington Ravine, arguably the scariest hike in New England, is infamous for triggering Climber’s Remorse.) On many mountains, your final chance to turn around before things get seriously gnarly won’t come with a signpost. But there are exceptions and ironically, one of them happens to be the sharpest and most visually distinct peak in the White Mountains; the one that brings to mind the Paramount logo, amidst broader ridges.
I’m talking, of course, about Mount Chocorua.
