… or just Mont Tremblant, if you’re our Memoirs of a New Dad columnist. A dad takes on his longtime nemesis with just shoes, water and a pair of cool shades
Columnist Chris Hunt, right, and his son Riley take in the view of Mont Trenblant. Photo Credit Angela Jacques
Editor’s Note: This story was a part of the series You can do it, which ran in the Spring 2026 issue.
There was a time not so long ago when I’d wake from a gentle night’s rest with a quiet but vibrant energy and my mirror would display the youthful portrait of a man eager to face the challenges of the day.
I was spry and full of wry energy. I could work a full day and come home and play with my young son without feeling the icy and ruthless fingertips of fatigue coming for me.
Most summers, my family vacations in Mont Tremblant. One trip I had the brilliant notion to climb the mountain on my birthday. There was no forethought, no planning. I was wearing sandals but not a hat. I didn’t bring water. I just grabbed a juice box and was on my way. I’d climb the mountain and take the gondola back down. Easy peasy… or so I thought.
I was a quarter of the way up when the pain hit. The muscles in my lower back were so taut I feared they’d tear if I even stumbled.
Halfway up blisters formed on the bottom of my feet. I took the sandals off, but the mountain was a minefield of small, jagged rocks so back on they went.
Towards the end, I was literally crawling on my hands and knees.
When I reached the top, I was a sunburnt, sweaty heap of a man. But I proved to myself that I still had it.
Climbing the mountain became a summer ritual of mine. Once I hiked it during a thunderstorm. My spouse took the gondola up that day and the wind was so bad her carriage swung in the wind like a pendulum in a clock.
Those were the days.
Then the world shut down and the only exercise I had was puttering around my small condo.
Imagine how excited I was when we booked that first trip to Tremblant after COVID. I decided to bring my son to see a small waterfall located at the beginning of the hike up the mountain.
It’s not far up, but it’s a steep climb. My kid wasn’t fazed, but I struggled. I heard my heart slamming into my chest and my legs seemed to be devoid of bones. We got to a point where I could see that the trail I normally took was blocked off due to ongoing maintenance. I was relieved but also saddened because I felt old.
I didn’t even try to scale the mountain on our next two trips. Cut to last year when I had a health scare.
I was off work for almost a year and with nothing constructive to do, I hit the gym pretty hard. By the time I got a clean (mostly clean anyway) bill of health, it was time to go back to Tremblant.
It had been around four years since I had last tried to climb the mountain. This time I was ready. Water, sunglasses, proper shoes. I forgot the hat. It wasn’t easy and it took me longer than I thought, but I did reach the summit.
While I was taking in the glorious view, I had a notion. Instead of taking the gondola down, why don’t I hike back down? It was something I hadn’t done before. A new challenge, one I was excited for.
I may or may not have almost seriously injured myself on the way back, but that’s another story. The takeaway is that maybe you’re never too old to not have it, whatever it is to you.
You just need to be willing to work for it.
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