I’m 68. My Knee Failed Mid-Hike. I Finished Anyway.

My favorite hiking buddy was turning 40.

“Where do you want to go for your birthday?” I asked.

Katie mapped out a hike up Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park. At 1,530 feet, it’s the highest peak in the park — though admittedly not all that high by mountain standards. The route would take us up Cadillac, down the eastern side, over Dorr Mountain, and eventually back toward Cadillac again by way of Canon Brook and Featherbed Pond.

Photo by Katie Dyer

Nine miles. More than six hours. Plenty of climbing.

I said yes without hesitation.

Four of us started out under clear skies, even though rain was forecast later in the day. The climb up Cadillac was beautiful.

Then we started descending.

My right knee gave out.

I rarely have knee pain. This was different.

I stopped on the trail and admitted I needed a minute. Katie immediately said, “We’re turning back.”

“Give me a minute,” I answered.

Our friend Kathy happened to have an extra knee brace in her backpack. She was wearing one herself “just in case.” I had KT tape on my knee, but no brace of my own.

The brace helped almost immediately.

Katie tried once more to convince us to turn around.

But:

1. I was not ruining Katie’s birthday.

2. I trusted my strength.

3. My pain dropped from “absolutely not” to “manageable.”

So we kept going.

We climbed Dorr. Descended Dorr. Climbed Cadillac again. It started to rain. We were prepared with jackets and hats.

Photo by Katie Dyer

My knee fluctuated between painful and tolerable, but it held. So did I.

Photo by Katie Dyer

The funny part is that somewhere along Canon Brook Trail, I became deeply worried about making our dinner reservation. We had planned a birthday dinner for 5:00 that evening, and suddenly I was convinced we’d never make it.

During a water break, I suggested we move the reservation to the following night.

My mother has always called me a cockeyed optimist, which is entirely accurate. Katie had matched my optimism all day long. But once we changed the reservation, I relaxed.

We had a lovely dinner the next night at Bella Vita.

I’m 68, not 28. Not even 58.

This hike was harder than it was ten years ago when I did the same route in reverse with my old hiking partner, Sam, who was about my age then.

I have lost some capacity.

But I also strength train regularly. I do yoga and Mat Pilates. I work on power. I jump. I challenge balance. I take care of the body I have now instead of mourning the body I had decades ago.

Sam was ten years older than me. We hiked many mountains together before the day came when both of us had to admit it was no longer safe for him.

That’s part of aging too.

My deal with Katie is simple:

We’re hiking together until she tells me I’m done.