NORTH BEND - In the weeks before we were to hike three mountains in a day, my friend Brent Frei, a large man who talks the same, carried out an intimidating "drip marketing" e-mail campaign.
One morning, I opened my inbox to find photos from an 8-mile training hike Brent had taken on a mountain frequented by many Seattleites looking for a quick fix of the Cascades: "To the top of Mt. Si in 1:15. Mt. Rainier salutes in the distance."
On another afternoon, he sent a report of a hike up Mailbox Peak, 5 miles east of Si: "Tree roots provide helpful stair steps straight up the 20-50 percent grade but in spacings that could not pass code in a land occupied by 10-foot-tall humans. The trees nearly lean flat against the hillside despite pointing straight up."
It had been Brent's big idea that I join him in a Seattle suburb and head east against the I-90 rush hour with Mount Si, Mailbox Peak, and Granite Mountain in our sights. He had climbed all three a year earlier - more than 22 miles up and down 11,000 vertical feet in a day - to celebrate his 40th birthday.
Soon after I committed to the plan, Brent sent word that he had invited along a friend, who happened to be an Ironman triathlete and former Army Ranger. Brent, a former college defensive lineman, apparently could not drum up someone who had run across the Sahara.
I, on the other hand, am a writer. Living as I do on the North Shore of Massachusetts, my training consisted of sprinting up and jogging down crooked stone steps in a 373-year-old cemetery, and paddling a kayak in ocean swells. Time and geography conspired against me: I e-mailed Brent, requesting that he
Brent: "Pick a steep hill for this weekend and go up and more importantly down it. It's the downhill that will wipe you out on the triple."
Mount Si: "This is the easy one, right?"
At 6:30 a.m. on a September day that would bring blue skies and 80 degrees, there was still a dusky dawn, as though the day were not ready to begin. We pulled into an otherwise empty parking lot, took long swigs of water, stowed energy bars in packs, and set off at a brisk pace.
Starting our assault at Mount Si, with a 3,900-foot summit that stands as a short sentinel at the edge of the Cascade Range, was to begin with logic and reason. Friendly firs towered over shadowed terrain. Fallen needles cushioned pathways and nerves. Upward incline arrived gently, after a few minutes' walk, with wide, smooth switchbacks.
Brent - 6 feet 7 inches and 245 pounds - informed the Ranger and me that he would save his talking for the descent. So I settled in behind the Ranger, Mark Albedyll, who now works in federal law enforcement.
