Oh man… Mailbox! Also known as “fuckin’ Mailbox!” It’s a love-hate, it really is.

Mailbox Peak has quickly become a favourite for training, with its nonstop steepness, unkempt muddy slippery slopes, and its patented “moment of false hope near the end” if it’s your first time climbing it. When the Washington Trails Association’s description starts with the words, “Wimpy hikers, turn the page. This trail offers nothing for you but pain and heartbreak,” you know you’re up for a good time.

But why a rivalry? Why is it like playoffs? Well, it all started when we first climbed it in summer 2013. Yeah, it was tough. I’d say two of the three hours on the climb were mostly mental. There are marker diamonds along the path to mark the trail, and all of them have some kind of encouraging note that someone wrote on it with a sharpie. The one that caught my attention the most the first time was, “Pain is weakness leaving your body.” That became my mantra while slogging through the never-ending steepness.

Eventually, things get nicer for a bit, and you start seeing that familiar “thinning” of the trees. Yes! I’m near the end… so close… I must be close, look at how there’s no more trees…

Hmmm, NOT! As you emerge from the bush, the sweet taste of victory turns into the agony of a hopeless pit of despair, as you witness what sits in front of you. Huge mass of rock, with the trail leading up it. There are dots moving up there in the distance, very far away; damn, I think it’s people! Time to push through the last bit! By this time, I was completely exhausted, but at the top, some amazing views open up.

There is also a mailbox, filled with barter goodies. By then, this being the first such arduous climb I’ve done, I was completely tired. And well, with the exhaustion and the heat and everything, at the time, it felt like there was only one thing left to do…

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Haah I’m not even sorry!

After all that, I thought that was it. Mailbox makes a nice story, but it’s a once-a-year-max ordeal… right? right? Well, not exactly. At the time, we were training for Mt. St. Helens, and we were worried that we would get bad weather, since our climb permit was for mid-October. So, we figured it would be best to test our gear in soggy, colder weather. And what better place to go to do a St. Helens dry-run than fuckin’ Mailbox? So we drive to fuckin’ Mailbox on a rainy day and start climbing.

Well, my pants aren’t great, and my friend’s gloves are garbage, and just the rainy weather was enough to make us very cold. Obviously, the gear was no good. AND it was a late start, so we were worried about whether our car would get locked in by the time we got back down. So, we decided to turn around. You win THIS round, Mailbox!

But wait, this means… we’re breaking even! The score is 1-1! And my OCD doesn’t like that! We can’t have… loose ends!!!

Fast forward to 2014, and our Rainier training. Sure enough, Mailbox gets its turn on our training list. Eeexcellent, I thought. Time to settle the score for good! Heavy pack in tow, we head up the mountain. Oh mailbox, as hard as I remembered it. I was already tired from the heavy pack on the steep trail, but the MUD!!! The mud made all the difference. I must have fallen on my face like 4 times in a 15 minute period, muscling my way up the steep open segment around the middle. Eventually, I decided to ditch the extra weight (25-30lbs of water in a big jug). After that, climbing seemed pretty easy, though I was noticing it getting colder as I got closer to the clearing of false hope.

Upon reaching the clearing, the rest of the group was already turning around. We had decided to turn around. Why? Because it was SNOWING SIDEWAYS!!! Damn you, Mailbox, now we’re at 2-1! That’s it! Now it’s personal!

Well, for the next several weeks, we kept coming back to Mailbox, and kicking its mailboxy little ass!

It wasn’t long until the score was up to 3-2, and my Mailbox score was finally above the line. But there was still something missing. After all, it’s NHL playoff season, and that means you have to win 4 out of 7. That means one more Mailbox climb. Well, that time, we decided to really test ourselves. We won’t just climb Mailbox; we’ll put it in its place! How? By climbing TWO peaks in a single day, not just one. It was a great way to push ourselves, but also a way to say, “Hey MB, not only can I climb you, but I have enough in me afterwards to do… one more full hike and climb another mountain!”

4-2, bitches! And that’s how we won the Mailbox Playoffs, and showed it who’s still King!