Subzero & Alone

Solo, Diabetic, and -40º on Mt. Washington

Where the Cog Railway ends on the vacant and frozen summit of Mt. Washington, February 2021

In February 2021, I strutted my way up the final steps to the summit of Mt. Washington, New Hampshire. I was alone. In total, there were probably fewer than 20 people on the entire mountain. I passed a few on the way up. Many turned back. Through the thick fog, I could see a small party behind me also approaching the summit. Catching my breath as I made it to the infamous sign, my goggles frosted again— I could not see anything. To fix the situation, I quickly removed them to wipe off the frost… sweat poured out from my face and instantly froze on my jacket. I didn’t want to fool around long enough to find out what would happen to my skin, so I maneuvered my goggles back into place immediately. At the summit, it felt warmer than the tunnel of wind I just went through.

The next day I looked at the statistics to find that at the time I made it to the summit it was -20ºF. Warmer than the tunnel of wind I just went through. -20ºF felt warm. From a point in my route named Lion Head to what is called the Summit Cone, I discovered that the extreme wind brought the temperature and wind chill factor to -40ºF (which is also -40ºC). I didn’t learn this until after I safely made it down the mountain. In my chest, I felt a sense of fear combined with a sense of accomplishment. What the hell did I just do?

As a Type-1 Diabetic, I managed to safely climb one of the most notorious mountains for horrible weather in the heart of winter conditions. This summit accomplishment changed me for many reasons. For one, it was the most rugged feat I’ve ever accomplished at the time. By February 2021, two and a half years after my T1D diagnosis, I’ve been on some serious climbs and hikes across the country, but nothing remotely close to the subarctic conditions I faced that day. For another… this was not my first attempt at summiting Washington alone in the winter. Below, I write about my failure a few weeks before this amazing accomplishment.

Right before I started my decent, the party behind me made it to the summit. I could not pass up the opportunity for the photo of a lifetime.

Mt. Washington, February 2021

Two Weeks Before:

I was 600 feet below the summit of Mt. Washington. A bluebird day. 14ºF feels like 70ºF when the sun is beaming on reflecting snow. Hell, I passed someone on their way down simply in a T-Shirt. Middle of January, and with the smell of sunscreen, I’m mistakenly reminded of a day at the beach.

At this point in my life, I’ve done Washington multiple times, including once in the winter. I was with a group then, and today I’m alone. Mt. Washington in New Hampshire is the tallest mountain in the Northeast, standing at 6,288ft. This mountain is notoriously known for its bad weather, including the fastest wind speed recorded by humans: 231mph on April 12th, 1934. Washington experiences intense storms year-round. In the middle of June, I’ve seen snow.

Today, I’m on top of an insane amount of snow, but the winds are calm and there’s no precipitation. The weather is perfect for climbing; however, my fluctuating blood sugars are not. At 13:00 (1:00pm) on a bluebird January day, 600 feet below the summit of Mt. Washington, a mountain so rare for calm weather, I made the calculated decision to turn around. I did not reach my goal of getting to the summit alone in winter as a T1D.

This decision ate me alive. I knew I could get to that summit. I’ve done it so many times before. To do it alone in winter would finally prove my transformation to total independence as a Type-1 Diabetic. I didn’t want to feel dependent on people for my life. I didn’t want to feel dependent on medicine and doctors’ offices for my life. I wanted total independence from top to bottom. And it killed me that I couldn’t reach the top. I was on my way down to rock bottom.

On the descent, below Lion Head.

Why did I turn around? My blood glucose levels kept dropping and dropping, no matter how much sugar I ate. The day was getting late, and those 600 feet were a lot of elevation gain left in a short distance. I was almost out of food and my CGM alarm kept going off every 20-minutes, stating my bump up to 140mg/dl from my previous sugar hit was now back down to 70mg/dl and falling fast.

At the end of the day, I knew I made the right decision to turn around. Going down became dangerous as well. Many things were going wrong all at once on top of my T1D. Before this solo expedition, I was all excited to use my new Scarpa mountaineering boots with my new crampons. One problem… I didn’t know enough about my new gear to realize that the attachment style of the crampons did not fit the style needed for my boots. Essentially, the spikes that were keeping me from falling off the steep cliffside of Mt. Washington were slipping and sliding around beneath my boots… Utter danger.

Going down, I toppled quite a few times. That setting sun finally sent a reality check to what 14ºF really means. All snowy from the many plunges off trail, I was shaking with cold. This was also due to my pack being insanely heavy. Fear is a deterrent. From my massive amount of anxiety, being on this expedition alone, my pack weighed close to 70lbs. Extra clothes to spend not one but two nights, and enough sugar to keep me running for days. One problem, a reverse effect happened because the weight of my pack made me work harder, pumping my heart faster, forcing me to intake more glucose throughout the day. And now, not only am I depleted of energy, with a concrete stomach of crappy sugar, I am also almost out of food as my blood glucose is not stable.

No wonder why I was mentally and physically exhausted. No wonder why my blood glucose kept falling. The amount of physical work I had to put into the elevation gain of Washington, with 70lbs on my back, meant that my body was using up all of my carbohydrate reserves. 

Luckily, by the way down, my body began to flatten out, and I did not require as much resources as the way up. But knowing that winter darkness was near, I was cold, alone, and without the proper gear. I needed to get back to the base, Pinkham Notch, as fast and as safely as I possibly could. 

Stupid. Pure stupidity. An utter failure.

I knew I made so many mistakes throughout the day, but that did not change the situation I now found myself in. Slow focus allowed for my safe return to the warm lodge. I heated my car up, and drove 3 hours back home with my head hung low. This solo attempt on Mt. Washington was a failure. The reason I classified it as a failure was because I did not summit due to elements that were in my control.

Usually, I am not upset if I have to turn around for reasons beyond my control. If the weather is bad, or the route contains too many hazards, etc. But this time, everything that went wrong was my fault. A heavy pack, not the right fuel source, and gear that didn’t match. The one good decision I made was to turn around and not further risk my life.

Yet… soon upon returning to the cushion of society, I found myself thinking about that summit. Alone in winter as a T1D. Suddenly, it became more important to me. I had to prove to myself that I could do it. I know what I did wrong, so I can change that into elements that can go right. Sitting by my fireplace, the following winter night, in a corny and ironic fashion, I vowed to turn my failure into a learning lesson.

The only true failure in life is not learning from your past mistakes. Was I dumb for attempting Washington alone with my sense of over-preparation yet lack of education in gear use? Yes. Was I dumb for wanting to do it again? Perhaps. But this time, I knew that if I wasn’t going to make the summit, it would be for a reason out of my control.

On The T1Determined Podcast:

We discuss turning this failure into an accomplishment. Relating it back to how proper T1D management can take you anywhere.

On the podcast episode releasing next week, I go into my transformation of better preparing myself for the climb. In fact, I prepared so well that when I was then confronted with subzero weather, I was able to safely complete a successful summit attempt. I will cover everything from the types of food I brought to my insulin management to my mindset. This was a life-altering climb that built confidence and allowed me to enter the world of extreme endurance as a T1D.

We will also discuss my recent scientific research regarding T1D and growth hormones. Between this chilling story and sports physiology inquiry, this next podcast episode has a lot to unpack. It will be an engaging one you won’t want to miss. I’m excited for you to listen.

I hope this helps. Stay strong. Stay determined. T1Determined.