The Saga of Mt. Osceola – November 1994

It began as a day like any other day, filled with the events that alter and illuminate the times in which we live. (If you don’t get it, you’re too young for our senior’s teams.) It ended with the emergence of a new legend and the reaffirmation of a proven one. 

A hardy band of GFTC’ers gathered in the early morning of a lovely fall day to scale the twin peaks of Mt. Osceola, under the capable leadership of John Shane (Certified Legend). All who have partaken of the outings planned by John & Charlotte know that we can march blithely into the most godforsaken regions, under the most foreboding circumstances, because they will ALWAYS take care of us. Need a spare pair of woollies, 3 band-aids, and an ammonia capsule? Charlotte will pop them out of her backpack. Have to perform an emergency angioplasty on exposed ledge at -30 degrees? John will be handing you the chest cracker with one hand while setting up a tent and butane heater with the other. 

So the only thing marring our otherwise fine start was that Lona Hooley (Apprentice Legend) and her houseguests hadn’t appeared. No problem - leave a note on the windshield and off we go. After about 30 minutes of gradual uphill hiking we hear some pronounced wheezing behind us and there is Lona, attired in running shorts & singlet, and wearing running shoes, telling us her party is on the way. You must understand the rest of us were in full Outdoor Geek Garb: Gortex shells, Woolrich shirts, Eddie Bauer Hi-Mountain shorts, and Hi- Tec Hiking Boots with full 3” Vibram cleats for extra hold on the icy peaks of the Himalayas. And here is this flake, dressed for a fun run, flouncing up the mountain after us. 

About 4 hours later, after climbing two strenuous 4,000 ft peaks, and enjoying a luxurious view of the surroundings, we began back down. Going down was in many ways more difficult than going up. The steepness of the slope, combined with the slipperiness of wet leaves, made each step an adventure. Furthermore, Diane Curley had developed a painful back problem, so she & Joe had to descend more slowly. 

While the rest of us were looking for ropes and railings, Lona chirped: “ Anyone else feel like running down?” We demurred but let her go ahead, confident John would have a large enough squeegee to clean her off the rocks for return to her loved ones. Much later, we arrived considerably fatigued, at a pond where we would await the Curleys. Lona, having arrived 45 minutes earlier, was sunbathing on the shore and worrying only about whether the coconut oil sunscreen was less healthy than the aloe. 

Here’s where things got squirrelly. Through absolutely no fault of their own, the Curleys were descending a trail that took them nowhere near our end of the pond. Also, they were making better time that we had anticipated. Thus, they completely bypassed us and continued down believing we were ahead of them. Meanwhile, after a considerable wait, most of our group, led by Lona departed for the bottom, leaving John, Charlotte, and two sherpas, to wait for the Curleys. 

As daylight waned, it became clear the Shane’s group might not get out till after dark. Meanwhile the other group caught up with the Curleys much further down the mountain. To fully appreciate what happened next, you have to understand that most of us couldn’t have walked up Hopkinton hill at this point without considerable pain and agony. We were worried about having enough strength to walk downhill to the cars. 

Lona turned around in her tracks and proceeded to RUN back up the mountain to alert the Shanes. John had already begun to backtrack up the mountain in search of the Curleys. Without adequate water, in diminishing light, he reclimbed the first peak and most of the second before realizing the Curleys weren’t above him. Lona, carrying no water, after having found Charlotte and explaining the situation, continued running up the mountain to find John. 

When they finally contacted each other, the sun had already set, the air was getting considerably cooler, and there was no hope of making it out before dark. So they proceeded to run down trails, and across streams, the rest of us could barely stumble down in daylight. Fortunately, they made it back safely, though obviously dehydrated. 

When John does something like that, it’s like when Larry Bird scores 50 points and a triple double. On the one hand you’re in awe of the feat, but on the other hand that’s what you expect of legends. However, on that day Lona rose above the ranks of the rest of us dysfunctional mouth breathers and became a fledging legend. Somehow, someway, we’ll get even with her for that. 

(Space prevents me from describing the rescue of two lovely, and very lost, young women that day. Eat your heart out Wayne, there’s other things in the woods besides bees.)