Those Mountain Moments

I had a “mountain moment” this summer. I was climbing Mount Algonquin, one of the Adirondack Mountains’ 46 High Peaks. At 5,114 feet, Algonquin is the second highest mountain in New York. 

It is a mountain moment worth sharing. But the moment was not at the summit. 

If you work in any kind of business, sales or marketing capacity, whether you’ve ever scaled an actual mountain or not, you may relate to this idea of challenges as mountains.

First, the hike 

People have asked me if I do the kind of mountain climbing with picks and ropes. No, I’m not that adventurous. I like a good challenge, and I enjoy hiking. I’ve climbed a couple of the other High Peaks — Giant and Cascade — and thought I’d try a third.

The Adirondacks are a protected, 6 million-acre park of unspoiled natural beauty. A true New York state gem. If you are the kind of person who is restored and energized by pine trees, lakes, streams, and mountains, as I am, you should visit the Adirondacks. Hiking a mountain is good exercise, offers breathtaking (often 360-degree) views at the summit, and provides a true feeling of accomplishment. This time, I got all that and more. 

I set out with a group of new friends to the Lake Placid area and tent-camped at a base camp for two nights — the nights before and after the hike. The main event started Saturday at 4:45 a.m. with some cold water on the face, hot coffee, and a light breakfast. After loading up our backpacks and filling our water bottles, we drove a half hour to the Adirondak Loj & Heart Lake Program Center, located at the trailhead for several of the High Peaks. By 7 a.m., we had taken the obligatory pre-hike, grinning group photo and hit the trail. 

It’s a four-mile walk up the mountain. How bad can four miles be, right? And sure enough, the first mile is a nice, rolling trail with a few switchbacks and lots of dirt and pine needles to make you feel comfy and cozy. The second mile was not as kind. I fell down and went boom a couple times, cutting my arms on some rocks. Then, we’re halfway, stopping for water and energy bars, and I ask one of the most experienced hikers in our group what to expect for the second half of the ascent. He bluntly points out that while we’re halfway there in mileage, we are probably 20 percent there in terms of exertion. Okay, calibrate that. Tighten the pack straps. Carry on. 

Now we’re climbing rocks. Large rocks. Some are bona-fide boulders. Think of steps that are much higher than any steps you’ve climbed before. But uneven steps. Cracks and crags. Step after step after step. Uphill, pulling, lifting, and jumping. Okay, stay calm. Calibrate, hydrate, breathe. But my legs are feeling it. Burning. I have been training at the gym for months, years, for this day. Somehow right now it doesn’t feel like I’ve ever done a single squat in my life. My quads are tight and getting tighter. Stretch, hydrate, breathe. I feel it in my calves too. Tightness and pain. And we’re only three miles up. Now the cramps start. Have you had leg cramps in the middle of the night that make you jump out of bed, only to fall on your face? Those cramps go away. These were not going away. 

I was hurting, with a mile to go to the summit and another eight miles on the other side. Thankfully, I was surrounded by a great bunch of people. One of them is a 46er. That’s what they call you when you have climbed all 46 of the Adirondacks High Peaks. Dave is 20 years my senior and has been there and done that. He’s working on his winter 46er patch, having already climbed 37 of the peaks in the winter months. Dave stayed right with me. You’ve heard the expression, “Lead from behind?” Dave did that. He kept our team together, and saved my sanity, by putting himself last in our little parade of eight hikers, so that I wouldn’t fall too far behind. As if on cue, when I told him my legs were cramping, he produced salt pills, then magnesium pills, then a leg cramp pill. I’m not usually much of a pill popper, but I downed those suckers. I don’t know if it was one of those pills, a placebo effect, or some combination of pills, Dave’s encouragement, and divine intervention, but I felt a little better by the time we hit the summit. We celebrated with bagels and beef jerky. And another salt pill. 

Now, the business lesson learned

I said the “mountain moment” for me was not at the summit. Yes, the views there were spectacular. There was a feeling of accomplishment. Of relief. Of reward for risks taken. That’s all part of business, too, right? When you go out on a limb and land the big deal, when you help a client be more successful in their business, when your hard work pays off, it feels good. It is rewarding.

But for me, in life and in business, I have to keep remembering that the journey is the thing. On the hike, the real mountain moment for me was when I stopped about 400 feet shy of the summit. I asked Dave to take this picture of me, sitting next to a cairn marking the path to the top. I wanted to sit for the photo, first of all because my legs were killing me, but also because I wanted to pause and remember that mountain moment. That was the moment when I surrendered to the fact that I was going to make it to the top of that mountain. No leg cramp was going to stop that from happening. And I didn’t need to strike a heroic mountain-conquering pose. That mountain beat me up so much that I needed to sit down. I wanted to remember that, be humbled by that, and yet know that I was going to make it. The mountain would not defeat me. Losing an employee or a client will not defeat me either. How about you? Do you let setbacks defeat you, or do you use those experiences to make yourself and your team stronger, tougher, better?

Do you have days at work when you feel like the mountain is winning? Ever feel like Sisyphus, who was condemned to push a boulder up the hill every day, only to have it roll back down the hill every evening, for an eternity? I have felt that way before. I have lost business deals, lost colleagues, lost accounts, lost money. But I have always returned to work the next day to keep pushing that rock up the hill. The mountain won’t defeat you. Only you can defeat you. 

So I want to encourage you to take heart. Take stock of the good things happening in your business. Be thankful and appreciative of the good people around you. Bring others along. Help them up their mountain. Lead from behind if you can. Bring water and snacks. 

I wish you happy trails and leave you with a quote I like about moving on. 

“When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened.” — Alexander Graham Bell, American Inventor.         

Steve Johnson is managing partner of Riger Marketing Communications. Contact him at sdjohnson@riger.com