My Bunker Hill

My Bunker Hill

It’s an imposing structure, a round, gray stone tower built into the sky.  From the entrance at the bottom, if you look directly up, you can barely see the top hidden in the mist.

“It didn’t look that tall when we were walking up here,”   I grumbled under my breath.

But, in my mind, 294 steps didn’t really seem all that far.  This was no match for me!

“Those signs saying people with health problems shouldn’t climb it are just to cover their butts,”I said.  “It can’t be that bad, that little old lady just did it!”

So, off we went.

“20, 21, 22…see, I told you, nothing to it!” I said with an overly cocky smirk.

The first tiny window had a great view.  We were just a little above the brownstone houses we had passed on our way to the monument.    The reds and browns against the green of the wet grass made me smile.  What a good way to spend the last day of our vacation!

“98, 99, 100….how much further?”

The fun was sure wearing off in a hurry! The round stair case was growing narrow and stuffy.  We would take a few steps, stop and squeeze up against the wall to let someone slide past us on their way down, and then take a few more steps.  Around and around. Step after agonizing step. I made a mental note that if I survived, it was probably time to quit smoking….and eating.

“I think I will turn around and go back down with them.”  I whispered, already defeated, but with many more battles to come.

“Don’t you dare!” Jennifer threatened.

“200, 201, 202…my legs have turned to jelly!” “Are you sure I can’t go back down with them?”

We were getting closer.  Now the view was even better than I could have imagined, at least what I could see of it out of my one eye that still worked. The other one just had black spots floating in it, and my eyelid was having some sort of spasm. All of Boston stretched out before us.   The ships in the harbor looked like bathtub toys. The damp wind off the water rushed through the tiny windows.  Only 92 more agonizing, torturous, work of the devil steps to go!

“292…….gasp…..293….sigh…..294!”

“We made it!!”

“I know, no big deal!” I said, as I struggled to catch my breath and find my legs.

We really had made it, all the way up those winding, narrowing, stuffy, crowded 294 steps.  We were at the top!  The Bunker Hill Monument was no match for us!

“Okay, stand next to me and smile,” Jennifer said.

I was impressed she could still hold a camera up that high. I couldn’t even hold up my finger nails.

“Wow, I can’t believe how hot and sweaty we look!  That’s an awful picture, delete it!”

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