I will not be forwarding this to my mother.

I've been above the tree line in what I'd call, compared to what Jim and Alan faced, stiff wind. I think I've been above the tree line six times. Some of these were unremarkable. The first (Wright Peak) was dead calm in ideal winter conditions. A dropped feather would have landed at my feet. The second (Algonquin Peak) was an unsuccessful summit attempt in very windy winter conditions. As soon as I crossed the tree line I lost the trail. I pushed up maybe fifty feet, didn't find the trail, consulted a map, considered my options, and safely hiked out. I came back a month later and made the summit in windy but more manageable winter conditions. I was better prepared, too. The next was Algonquin again in ideal summer conditions but now pushing down the ridge (to Iroquois Mountain). The fifth (Gothics Mountain) was pretty good winter conditions. Tougher trail but manageable winds.

But the sixth still scares me a little. It was Mount Haystack in Adirondack Park. It's a long hike, about nine miles each way. It's the third highest point in New York. I hiked it this past November. Down low, conditions were very fall-like. No hat, no gloves, a modest weight jacket. There was some ice below the tree line but nothing too bad. To reach the Haystack summit you have to go over Little Haystack. Making the situation worse, my hat (which I'd worn leaving the car but took off mid-morning) had fallen out of my pocket. I had only a small hat liner, but coming that far I'd push on until it was too much. Leaving the trees on the way up Little Haystack, the wind was clearly pushing me. There was some gusting, though not as sharp as those that took Alex off his feet. While there was some snow and ice on the trees, the wind had blown the bald areas clear. The trail was well marked with paint marks. As I reached the top of Little Haystack I considered turning back, but the wind was coming from behind me and the left. Cresting the summit the wind was essentially nil. There are some little trees in the col to provide a little relief until finally pushing to the main summit. I didn't fall, but the wind did force me to take careful steps and use my trekking poles for balance. The bald areas were totally in the clouds. Not fog; I could see the trail easily. But all around me was nothing but roiling grey; I couldn't even see the tree line. As I topped what appeared to be the summit, my GPS beeped and displayed "Arriving Haystack" to indicate I'd reached the waypoint. The altimeter said 4975' (the official altitude is 4960', but I haven't calibrated my GPS altimeter). I looked beyond to convince myself it was the summit. I thought I saw someone on a peak in the distance, but it had to be a trick of the clouds. I turned and went back the way I came. No pictures, no summit snack, just immediately getting back to the safety of the trees.

This is hyperbole, but in retrospect I feel like if I had sat down and just stopped, I would have died. I believe I was safe the entire time, acting within my abilities and the conditions, but I think nine miles from civilization in whipping grey clouds on a lifeless sheet of rock probably the most dangerous place I've been.

I have a couple more bald summits to go. I will be cautious. I carry a satellite tracker/SOS messenger.