Why is it that you only see 'My car climbed Mt. Washington' bumper stickers on old bangers? Is it that much of a challenge that owners of these little rust buckets have a sense of pride that there's life in the old girl yet? It would be kinda like a 60 year old tattooing 'this old fart made it up Mt. Everest' on his back. To be honest if I climbed that beast now at thirty eight years old I would probably brand the slogan on my forehead. Well, on a recent trip to North Conway, I decided to see what all the fuss was about.

Now bear in mind I'm not too good on heights. I didn't think that would be an issue until I saw the sign at the entrance of the Auto Road. It read something like, 'If you have a fear of heights you may not enjoy this trip'; 'Turn back now' at the foot of the mountain, and 'It's not too late!' on up a bit. Well, the last two were made up, but I was seriously starting to feel a little flutter in the pit of my stomach. No one had said anything about 'heights'. I thought it was just a steep climb. I had stood on top of the Empire State building some four years ago and felt the ground sway beneath me; my legs cramped up and I had to hold onto something to stop from sliding off. This was all in my head of course and I came to the realization that I had vertigo.

We gave the guy at the booth our $27 and he gave us a folder with aforementioned bumper sticker and a little certificate. The rules were displayed on the outside of the folder. There were so many I doubted we'd finish them by the time we got to the summit: 'Your speed on the Auto Road should be approximately 20 miles per hour' and 'Driving down in lowest gear will cause the engine to act as a brake and help to slow your car's descent', were just a couple. Okay, now I was really getting nervous. How steep was this thing, anyway?

My wife assured me it would be okay. She's a psychotherapist, and if I did start to freak out she could always counsel me and prevent any hint of a panic attack. I stood there for a while in the parking lot looking up to the peak, 6,288 ft away. It loomed above like a stone demon awaiting sacrifice. I took the wheel first and hit the gas, with the pressure of a butterfly wing, and proceeded to climb the 'road to the sky'. So far so good. It was steep, but hey, there were trees on all sides. I couldn't see a thing, piece of cake. Upwards we climbed and I calmed a little. I was thinking the whole 'heights' thing was a tad dramatic; probably a marketing ploy to sell more Auto Road tickets.

We continued to climb amid trees on both sides to what must have been halfway. Then the trees disappeared below us and my heart sank. Little did I know it was about to sink a lot deeper. The view was breathtaking though. On all sides we could see for miles and miles. Wildcat mountain looked so tiny in the distance, and it's black diamond trails an inch-wide channel in the side of the mountain. We pulled into a gravel parking area and stopped to give the car a rest. It was cold and windy now. It was in the mid 70s when we first got into the car but up here it was late October. We stretched our legs and wondered at the panoramic scene all around. The peak of Washington looked close enough to touch. Then I saw a flash of light on up the mountain. Then came another one. It soon dawned on me that these flashes were reflections from the sun coming off cars going up the hill. What I thought was a bare rocky mountain rising a few thousand feet above us, had a trail carved corkscrew style into its perimeter. It was a road - the Auto Road - and we were going to have to go up it.

This time my darling wife took the wheel. She's a sensible driver and not afraid of heights at all. Hey, if it got too bad I would just close my eyes. So up we went; upwards on a road that seemed to climb 45 degrees and couldn't have been more than six feet wide in places. It wasn't too bad when I, as the passenger, was on the inside of the mountain. I couldn't see over the edge. But my wife could and she was getting scared. I just kept staring at the mountain face on my right. When we turned the next corner I was on the outside. I was probably the most dramatic, most frightening sight I had ever witnessed. The drop into the valley below seemed to plunge for miles. I seriously had visions of my wife and I on the evening news: 'Couple falls to their death on Mt Washington' or, 'Cowardly husband vacates vehicle in mid-plunge; Wife starves to death on her way down!'. My palms were sweating but I had to keep my eyes open, even if they were fixed straight ahead. Closing them seemed to make things worse.

We climbed a couple more thousand feet and at last, we were at the top! We pulled into the parking lot and stepped outside. Now it felt like late January and we certainly were not dressed for the occasion. We had a fleece each but no hat and it didn't take long for my ears to go numb. It must have been 20f with the wind chill. There were scores of tourists on the mountain. We spoke to a few Swedish people beside the little wooden sign that read 'summit'. One of the guys had had a similar experience to me and assured me it would be easier on the way down. This made me feel better. We stopped for a while, had a coffee in the cafeteria and enjoyed the view from inside this time. Outside there were huge masts with dishes encased in ice. The Observatory reminded me of Ice Station Zebra from the Alan Dean Foster novel. After thirty minutes or so of freezing our butts off we decided to make our descent.

The Swede was right. It wasn't as bad on the way down. It wasn't totally free of hair-raising moments, but it would soon be over and we would be back where mankind was meant to spend most of its life here on earth...as close to sea level as possible.

I was shocked to learn from Mt. Washington's website that 136 people had died on this mountain since 1849 falling victim to from anything from hypothermia, skiing accidents and murder. I was glad I didn't read that before I visited the mountain. The people with those 'This car climbed Mt Washington' stickers really do deserve to have them displayed on their bumpers. I just put mine there yesterday.