I summited Stratton for the 16th time at 4:25 pm.
I was just one more away from Everest, but I also only had just over 90 minutes to do it.
There’s no way… I’ll leave here with the Red Bib, but I won’t be able to earn the Red Hat. I still have to ride the gondola down, and there’s no way I can climb fast enough to get back up here by 6 pm…
I didn’t speak any of that out loud, but mentally, I’d thrown in the towel.
My daughter, Carter, and Lisa met me at the summit like every other time, rushing to grab me whatever I wanted from the aid station. By now, the routine was set - they hurried me into the gondola and started game-planning for me on the way down.
I was too spent to even muster the little energy it would take to tell them I was done, so I just went along with it.
“Okay, when you get to the base, take the ramp, not the stairs. You won’t have time to brand, so we’ll do that for you. Carter, run to the board, grab Grandma’s bib, and bring it back so we can put it on her while she starts climbing.”
It wasn’t really registering with me what was about to happen as the gondola car reached the base.
As the doors opened, Carter sprinted out of the gondola to the board, grabbed my Red Bib, and rushed back to me as I hobbled down the ramp. My daughter and Lisa tied it around me and sent me on my way.
I guess I’m going to try to climb one more. Quitting wasn't an option.