Mount Willard Triumph and Toilet Despair

The Fat Man and I got up early, the sun was shining brightly, and we were feeling quite spunky.  We briefly discussed the possibility of climbing Frankenstein Cliffs (4.9 miles, 1,500 feet), but decided (due to my campaigning) that Mount Willard would be a more attainable endeavor at 3.2 miles and 900 feet elevation gain.

I shared that I was feeling unbridled enthusiasm as we started the drive.  “That will be crushed today,” the Fat Man mumbled under his breath.  A few minutes later, he let out a resigned-sounding sigh and I inquired why.  “I think I will be hating myself in an hour or two,” he said.  “Let’s think positively.  Put on your happy face,” I suggested.

It was a spectacular day and some of the leaves were starting to turn red, yellow, and orange.  At the base of the trail were a gift shop and a beautiful bathroom that looked brand spanking new.  Of course, I paid a visit before our climb.  I took my sunglasses off and held them tightly because it was a Clevis composting toilet (think of a big hole on a big mound of you know what).  You definitely don’t want to drop anything in there.

Women's bathroom at Mount Willard

While I agree with the gliede (the guidebook that lies) that Mount Willard provides a grand view, I would not say that it requires “little effort.”  You are walking uphill the entire time, but it is a gradual incline.  My thanks go to the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) for the occasional rock steps that make it easier to navigate for vertically challenged (short) people.

Trail to Mount Willard summit

The Fat Man and I have very different climbing methods.  I walk for ten paces and then rest for 3 seconds; a little trick I learned from a Vietnam vet that prevents my heart rate from going too high.  The Fat Man, however, goes up at a fast clip without any resting.  He says he likes the feeling of his heart bursting from his chest.   I should mention that the Fat Man is a two-time survivor of prostate cancer (get your PSA tested, gentlemen) and recently had heart surgery to correct atrial fibrillation.  He comes from good Slovak stock and hikes like a machine.   I, however, come from a long line of couch potatoes with heart disease and have a healthy fear of myocardial infarction.

Reaching the summit of Mount Willard felt a little like stepping into heaven (go toward the light).  We sat in the sun and enjoyed our petit dejeuner (French for a little lunch).  There were about 20 people at the summit, but there was room for everyone.  

Go to the light, Fat Man

One couple had a little picnic pack that included real silverware, plates, and even little champagne glasses. I must admit that I coveted that picnic pack for several minutes.  But carrying an overstuffed backpack is no fun on any mountain. This couple had obviously just met through match.com and they were sharing life stories, laughing, and gazing at each other with hopeful looks that communicated: “you might be the one.”  

Mount Willard summit

There was also a gregarious and manic English fellow who was making friends with everyone.  His group left the summit long before we did.  When we reached the bottom of the trail he was pacing around the restroom.  I asked him where his posse had gone to and he answered me rather curtly that they were probably at the AMC Highland Center Lodge, which was just up the road.  “He’s not so friendly now,” I muttered to the Fat Man. 

The Fat Man went into the men’s room and came out with a rather puzzled look.  He told me that he went to use the toilet and the Englishman told him that “maintenance was working on it.”   “What kind of maintenance do you need for a hole with wood chips?” asked the Fat Man.

Another Fat Man summit snooze

About five minutes later, an AMC staff person emerged, wearing rubber gloves and gingerly holding a Ziplock bag that contained a wristwatch.  We realized that the Englishman must have dropped it into the Clevis composting toilet.  No wonder he was not his chipper self.  We saw him again a little later at the AMC Highland Center Lodge, begging another staff member to soak the watch in a strong cleaning product.  They refused, despite his pleas to sign a liability statement releasing them from any damage to the watch.

The Fat Man and I spent several minutes discussing how his watch could have fallen into the toilet.  Did he take it off?  Did he lose weight on the trail and it slipped off?  What could he have possibly been doing?  Whatever the reason, we agreed that you should never wear anything that you really need back when you are using a Clevis toilet and hopped into Horace the Honda for the ride back to Pea Porridge Pond.

Heidi's rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Gradual incline and a phenomenal view.
The Fat Man's rating: 2 thumbs up and 5 cherry pies.