The Peak Isn't Easy

I like to climb mountains. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m no Sir Edmund Hillary. It’s kind of a “when in Rome” type of thing for me. I live in the mountains. We don’t have a mall. We have just one theater showing one feature at a time, two grocery stores and one Walmart. We’re a bit limited.

So when in Colorado… Climb mountains.

A mountain 14 thousand feet and over is called a 14er.  All 14ers have ratings so you can know in advance how big a fool you are to attempt one. A Class 1, 14er is considered an easy walk—easy being relative, mind you. The highest class, a Class 5, is considered somewhat technical and requires ropes. I don’t do fives. Or fours. Or quite frankly, threes. I've climbed two at a Class 2 and one at Class 1 and honestly all three made me huff and puff. 

Towards the top of the peak, well above tree line, the terrain changes, becoming more dramatic. A hiker at this elevation is likely to encounter rock fields, snow fields and switchbacks. Not to mention that somewhere above 11,000 feet, the air becomes noticeably thinner, making breathing feel more labored. The trails may only be five to eight miles at the lower classes, but within that distance a hiker can expect to ascend 3000 to 5000 feet. That’s a lot of climbing in a relatively short distance. A hiker who is not acclimated to the elevation or staying well hydrated can get in a heap of trouble, even on a Class 1.

It's a lot of work. By the time I am on the last big push, hitting the rocky switchbacks, I am counting steps, and talking to myself. Just 50 steps, Jule— then you can rest. 

So why do I do it?

There is joy in the journey. There is a whole range of alpine flora that only exists above tree line. They are delicate and their supporting ecosystem is fragile. There is  unique wildlife at this elevation too. I had never heard the sound of a Pika—a little mouse like animal who sits on rocks and chirps warnings of invasion whenever someone walks by—before hiking a mountain. Streams and waterfalls, colorful lichen, dramatic rock formations-- all are sights I would never see if I didn't attempt the climb.

The views from the top are almost unimaginable. Even photographs can’t possibly provide the full image of what it is like to be standing on top looking down on peak after peak of surrounding mountains, a bird's-eye view of the trees and valleys and lakes. The sense of creation and awe I feel when I look out from the apex is nothing short of life-changing.

It’s a huge sense of accomplishment. I am a rather non-athletic type, so being able to stand at the top of one of these 14ers gives me a feeling of pride and elation. That "high" gives me a little sense of what drives true athletes and extreme sport enthusiasts to push their body to the next level. It also provides me a whole new appreciation for the discipline and time it takes to become that accomplished. Climbing a mountain instills in me the confidence that I can achieve what I didn't think was possible.

But what does climbing a mountain have to do with writing?

Everything.

Keep writing,

Julie