Things are different on the mountain (#1, #13)

I've always loved hiking. When I lived in San Francisco, CA I used to hike almost every weekend and appreciated the variety the Golden State had to offer: the rolling hills of the wine country, the redwoods in Marin, foggy coastal paths, the rugged Sierra's or just a plain old stomp up to Buena Vista park to throw around the football. I also did extended backpacking trips to the Black Canyon of Yellowstone and Los Padres National Forest. I relocated to Charlottesville, VA for graduate school and some of my happiest memories and closest friendships were formed while exploring various parts of the Blue Ridge Parkway. When I moved to Charlotte, NC last year the vehicle for making new friends and ultimately peace with the Queen City was hikes and dog walks. One of my favorite rituals whenever I visit England is to walk the familiar loop across my grandparents farm.

Summer 2010 a girlfriend and I decided to take our love of hiking to the next level and take on Mount Kilimanjaro, the highest mountain in Africa and one of the seven summits. On the spectrum from "gentle stroll" to "expedition", my interest and skill level still occupied the middle ground but the trip marked my transition from "hiking" to "climbing" due to the length, difficulty and technicality of the trip. We managed to summit and spent much of the descent pondering our next trip. We decided to take e a mountaineering course in the Cascades to gain the skills and experience required of more challenging mountains. We spent the past week completing the course and summiting Mount Baker in Washington State.

Nicole and I survived the experience, but to say we thrived would be a stretch. I struggled with cardio vascular fitness as we moved to higher camps, “mentals” as I peered over a crevasse in a mock rescue, balance as I stumbled across the river, spirits when I was soaked to the bone and endurance on the long, uncharacteristically challenging descent. Not to mention the injuries that landed me in the emergency room 24 hours after we came down. The guides (aka dreamy and dreamier) will send us a formal review stating if we would be an asset or liability on future expeditions and suggest trips that are appropriate for our skill level. I am eagerly watching my inbox for this coveted feedback although I’m expecting a mixed review. Whatever it says I plan to reach out to our guides and ask them for ideas about how I could be a stronger climber and better team mate.

Before and during the trip I kept being asked was "why are you doing this?" Our guides were asking to understand our motivation for taking the course and my co-workers were asking as they couldn't fathom why I would chose to spend my summer vacation in the snow and wind, lugging around a 65lb pack, sleeping in a tent, walking up to 12 hours a day, pooping in a bag and voluntarily throwing myself headfirst backwards down the mountainside.

Why I climb:
• I do it because I love to be outside.
• I do it because I find it hard. I find school and jobs easy and I typically coast through life but when I climb mountains I am afforded the opportunity to go outside of my comfort zone physically and mentally, to confront fears, challenge boundaries and learn more about myself. Mountains humble me.
• I do it because it calms my soul. When you set out to summit a mountain you become laser focused achieving that goal and every ounce of physical and mental energy is expended on making it to the top. This involves tasks like making sure you are eating, sleeping and drinking enough, being efficient, taking care of your feet and reacting to a myriad of changing conditions. My everyday life (family, work, friendships, relationships, community, finances etc.) doesn't just diminish in significance, it disappears. There is also the overwhelming sense of accomplishment when you make it to the top. I am not a spiritual person, but climbing mountains takes me to the most simple, peaceful, and relaxed place physically and emotionally.

So that is why - despite the fact that I'm laid up in bed with a twisted ankle, bruised muscle, no sensation in my lower left leg, a sunburt nose and a grazed knee - I can't stop myself from scouring the internet in search of my next mountain.