My cousin Garry and I hiked the infamous Mt. Washington, all 6,288 feet of it, in the late summer of 1996. It was my first foray into hiking, but not Garry's, so he showed me the ropes and is probably responsible for this all-encompassing addiction I suffer from now. Granted, it was a solid twelve year span between this hike and our big trip to Yellowstone in 2008, but I also had to finish high school, graduate from college, and live in Florida for a summer before I could start checking off my hikes on my bucket list. Please don't mock the glasses.