I said never again. Then I went back up Baldy

Going in tired

I'd slept the evening before. That's where it started going wrong. A quick 60 minute nap somehow turned into four hours. I still couldn't fall asleep once night came around. I got under four hours before the alarm went off. Dinner was four dosai with mint chutney. It didn't feel like enough, even as I was eating it. All I had before the hike itself was a banana in the car.

I'm just not someone who eats before a workout. I know it makes a difference. I've felt it plenty of times in CrossFit. A bit more carbs before a hard session means I perform noticeably better. But I don't like using a WAG bag on a hike. So my workaround has always been simple: don't eat much and hope for the best.

My legs were already sore going in too. I'd done all five days of CrossFit that week. Of course it was a leg-heavy week. I knew this hike was coming. I did it anyway.

The climb starts, and so does my stomach

I started at 4:48am and went slow on purpose. It wasn't long before my stomach turned on me. The climbing pushed on it from the very first stretch. I kept walking but stopped twice to use my WAG bag.

After that I was scared to eat any of the snacks I'd packed. I worried it would just send me right back to the WAG bag. So I mostly didn't. More people than usual passed me on the trail. I just let them go. The one thing actually working in my favor was my poles. I had them out the entire hike. They carried me through more than a few moments where my legs weren't doing much on their own.

Ski hut, then the wall

The ski hut is the usual break point on Baldy. It's the spot where pretty much everyone stops to catch their breath before the real climbing starts. I had one honey stinger waffle there and sat for a few minutes before getting back up. That waffle ended up being most of what I ate all day.

It's fully uphill past the ski hut. That's where things really started to fall apart. This stretch alone climbs close to 2,000 feet in under two miles. My watch had it averaging close to a 19% grade the whole way to the top. I was averaging over 40 minutes a mile of moving time alone, not counting breaks.

I was slow. Way more breaks than I'd normally take. I could feel my energy draining out of me. My breathing was off. It felt different from a hard hike I could usually push through. CrossFit has built up a lot of endurance in me over the years. All those high-intensity workouts mean I can usually hold Zone 5 for a long time without falling apart. My watch had my heart rate averaging 153 on this climb. It peaked at 178. Those are numbers I can usually sit in through a tough WOD without much issue. But here I was barely moving, and my heart was working like I was still sprinting. I couldn't find the gear I normally rely on. No matter how much I dug.

The vision thing started somewhere after the ski hut. It happens to me sometimes after a hard CrossFit class: dark spots that just hang there for a while. Usually something sugary fixes it fast. This time it hit me mid-climb with nothing left in my legs to spare. For a second I genuinely thought I might black out on the trail.

At one point I wanted to turn back. I didn't want to risk the rest of the climb without clear vision or at the pace I'd slowed to. But turning back meant heading down that same steep stretch alone. Finishing felt like the safer bet. So I kept climbing.

The last stretch to the top was its own animal. Steep switchbacks, one after another. By then I had nothing left to give them. Every step felt like it was pulling more out of me than I had. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. Turning around felt worse than finishing.

I'd eaten one energy waffle and three chikki by the end of the hike. Chikki is an Indian peanut candy. That was it. The whole day. I had zero appetite from start to finish. I kept sipping electrolytes from my 3 liter water bladder. It clearly wasn't enough for what the climb was pulling out of me.

The summit

I finally got there. The summit was quiet and calm. It was almost exactly the way I remembered it. Same wind. Same wide open view over the basin. But this time I was too wiped to take any of it in. Last time I'd sat up there and eaten a whole Subway sandwich. This time I didn't have any appetite left. Not even for that.

A few people were up there taking naps of their own. They were stretched out on the rocks like it was any other afternoon. I found one of the small rock windbreaks people build near the summit marker and sat down. I stretched my legs out for the descent still ahead. I stayed up there for about 20 minutes.

I didn't feel much of anything, honestly. There was a small sense of having done it, but most of my head was already on the way down. The one real relief was knowing I didn't have to walk the full seven miles back. That's the way I'd have gone before. This time I could cut it down to about four, straight to the notch, and catch the ski lift from there.

Coming down was its own fight

My quads started cramping almost immediately on the way down to the notch. The poles saved me again. I noticed I was leaning on them more than I should have. That probably slowed me down even more. My watch tracked this half cleanly, no restart this time. It still had me at close to 40 minutes a mile. Heart rate averaged 151. It peaked at 174. Even downhill, my body wasn't bouncing back.

At one point I spotted a ski lift up ahead and felt a wave of relief. I thought I was basically done. Turned out it was closed. It wasn't even the lift that takes people down. I still had about 2.5 more miles to go before reaching the notch. That's where the actual lift was waiting.

I still had no appetite by the time I got there. I grabbed a Coke and took the lift down.

The day apparently wasn't finished with me yet. There was still close to a mile to walk from the ski lift back to my car in the full heat of the sun. Not fun in the slightest.

Takeaways

Did I say never again, again?

I knew better on almost every count going into this hike, and I did it all anyway. I know carbs before a high-intensity effort help me. I've felt it firsthand in CrossFit. I still didn't apply any of it here.

I also learned to bring snacks I actually want to eat. On most hikes I pack M&Ms. I skipped them this time. I think that's part of why I barely ate anything at all. My next hike was San Gorgonio, and I packed Snickers instead. I found myself genuinely looking forward to one at every checkpoint.

I applied all of it on San Gorgonio: better sleep, real food beforehand, snacks I actually wanted. It went well. Nothing close to what I went through on Baldy.

If there's a next time on Baldy, the plan is simple. Sleep. Eat before I go. No leg day the week before. And snacks I'll actually be excited to eat.

The relief at the top was quiet, not triumphant. That was maybe the most honest part of the whole day.