The idea of pulling a wagon up Mount Washington made sense in my head. Practically speaking, I learned, not so much.

This year’s Alton Weagle Day drew a record 46 participants to the Mount Washington Auto Road, where returning “Weaglers,” first-timers and three members of a Jay, Maine, family joined a tradition built around strange ascents, mountain history and the question of how far a determined person can carry an unlikely idea up a mountain.

Mount Washington is in New Hampshire, but from western Maine it feels like part of the neighborhood skyline. It rises beyond the state line, visible from Maine mountains, tied to our weather, our hiking culture and the White Mountain pull that draws people west before dawn.

The event honors Alton Weagle, a Mount Washington figure known for unusual ascents of the mountain. The Mount Washington Auto Road history says Weagle climbed the road by car, on foot, walking backward, blindfolded and while pushing a wheelbarrow full of sugar.

Weagle’s connection to Mount Washington was not only physical. He also married Cora Carter on the Mount Washington Cog Railway at Jacob’s Ladder in 1955, tying his personal life to the mountain as much as his stunts did.

That part mattered to us, too. Earlier in May, my husband, John, and I had a vow renewal on the Cog Railway. It was cold, rough and somehow worse weather than Feb. 3, when we celebrated our actual 33rd anniversary by going to the summit on a SnowCoach. By the time Alton Weagle Day arrived, Mount Washington had already become part of our own marriage story in a way that felt strange enough to belong.

The event began in 2011 as part of the Auto Road’s 150th anniversary, founded by Howie Wemyss as a way to honor the road’s history and encourage new “first ascents.”

This year’s group was led through the tradition by Wemyss, Don Bliger, events manager, and Hans Bauer, known as “Mr. Mount Washington.” Bauer has become one of the modern keepers of the Weagle spirit. The Concord Monitor reported that he has climbed the 7.6-mile Auto Road 17 different ways, including by pogo stick, in 48-pound cement shoes, on a penny-farthing high-wheel bicycle and five different times on different stilts.

The morning began with coffee, doughnuts and a ceremony about the history and spirit of Alton Weagle Day. Participants met at the original toll house for a group photo before walking across the street to begin their ascents. In the photo, an 8-foot bunny steals the show, previewing the kind of day ahead. The road remained closed to public traffic until 9 a.m.

The day started long before the climb. We got up at 2 a.m. and left Jay by 3:30 a.m. so we could get there in time for the 6 a.m. celebration and start.

I was not there as a Franklin Journal reporter, but as one of the participants, joined by John and our 22-year-old son, Garp, who was born in New Hampshire — the three participants from Jay. We came with a Radio Flyer wagon, a watermelon, a cutting board, a knife and a plan that was equal parts tribute, family ritual and mountain experiment.

The wagon was meant to honor Weagle’s wheelbarrow and also Frank Perham, the Maine mineral collector who used his children’s Radio Flyer wagon to carry rocks.

The event itself was not a race so much as a moving inventory of determined oddity. It included a group of 16 on electric unicycles, a rider on an electric unicycle pushing his child uphill in a wheelbarrow, a man on a recumbent bicycle, a cyclist carrying a small dog on his back, a man dressed as George Washington, a woman in giant platform heels and a cyclist who rode up with two young daughters seated behind him and an artist painting in oils as she walked up the mountain.

A large walking bingo group from New Hampshire was joined by two friends who flew in from Baltimore. One member of the bingo group was dressed as a banana, and the group later played two rounds in the shuttle van on the way down.

Artist Rebecca Fullerton, a landscape painter based in the White Mountains of New Hampshire and archivist for the Appalachian Mountain Club, climbed in an old-fashioned dress and hat, carrying art supplies and painting along the way. Fullerton said her ascent was made partly in celebration of the Appalachian Mountain Club’s 150th anniversary, and that she dressed as an 1876 woman hiker and painter because the club had women hikers and painters among its early members.

At the ceremony, smiling broadly, Fullerton said the experience felt like a hero’s journey. “I came, I saw, I Weagled,” she said after the event.

She said she made her dress herself with light wool fabric and a Victorian-style walking dress pattern, then designed, built and road-tested a wooden walking easel for the ascent.

“I knew that painting in oils while walking up the mountain would be a first,” Fullerton said, adding that she had to consider weight, comfort and how to secure the painting surface because wind is often a factor on Mount Washington.

She said the day was cool enough for the wool dress, though she removed her jacket about halfway up, and that the climb gave her about four hours of painting time.

“Reaching the summit was wonderful, but the rest of that gorgeous morning under clear skies out on the empty road was what really made the experience special,” Fullerton said.

“The spirit of the day was jubilant, hilarious and infectious,” she said, adding that she was glad to count herself among the many “Weaglers” who came before to “baffle, strive and kindly challenge.”

Other scenes were just as memorable. The woman with the 8-foot bunny wore bunny ears and pushed the stuffed rabbit in a shopping cart, while her partner hauled a five-gallon jug of water on a hand truck. One participant built a rowing-machine-style contraption to ride up the road. Another juggled while riding an electric unicycle. One woman rode a nonmotorized scooter to mile 4 before deciding that was satisfying enough.

My family’s version of success changed around mile 2 when we had to leave the wagon behind. Garp did not want to leave it behind, but he and his dad already looked spent, one pushing and one pulling. The wagon did not fail. I had underestimated the hill.

But the watermelon had to go on.

I continued up the Auto Road in my wedding dress, a vintage gown from Barbara Sculati. John wore what has now become his “wedding outfit.” He also carried the cutting board, knife and watermelon toward the summit.

The weather could hardly have been better for Mount Washington. A screenshot of summit conditions from mountwashington.org showed wind at 2 mph, with a 10-minute gust of 8 mph. The sky was blue, the sun was out, and the views stretched far across the mountains. On a summit known for sudden and severe weather, the day felt unusually calm.

Throughout the climb, Mount Washington Auto Road vans stopped to check on participants and see how everyone was doing.

Our driver stopped to help a family from Austria whose minivan was pulled off onto rocks after apparent brake trouble during the descent. The family was OK, and one member was headed down to figure out rental car arrangements. It was another reminder that the staff were not just moving participants up and down the mountain; they were watching the road and helping people through the unexpected.

After reaching the summit, the three of us cut the watermelon and ate the entire thing.

We were almost the last to arrive, so by the time a van took us back down to the base ceremony, most participants had already returned. The ending included doughnuts, certificates and a song about Alton Weagle Day performed by musicians Daniel and Faith Senie.

John retrieved the wagon from the woods near mile 2 before joining the ceremony.

By the time the day ended, it had become less about whether the original wagon idea worked and more about joining the tradition Alton Weagle Day was created to celebrate. It was also another chapter in our own odd Mount Washington year: a SnowCoach anniversary in February, a cold Cog Railway vow renewal in May and, finally, a wedding dress, a Radio Flyer wagon, watermelon tourmaline and a watermelon on the Auto Road.

Before the day was over, Garp and John were already planning next year. The wagon will go up the mountain again, but next time, if they have their way, it will involve a motor.