Mountains

On a breezy Sunday afternoon, I put on my sneakers and set off for Mount Pinnacle with my cousin and her husband. They decided it was a good time to do some hiking as autumn was spreading its splendor across the state; the leaves were turning a warm color and the summer sun was fading in presence. The weather seemed perfect for a good hike. We arrived at the foot of the mountain and started our climb.

I was told that the mountain was about 1000 feet high. For those who have climbed higher mountains, Mount Pinnacle would seem like a little hill. My cousin’s husband insisted that Mount Pinnacle was a baby mountain. He made it sound so easy. He must have forgotten that he was talking to a girl who had never climbed a single hill or mountain in her life.

The steep climb seemed to take forever. I trudged on even though my legs threatened to fail me. I would like to add that I have always been afraid of heights. Put me on the roof of a ten-foot building without support and I’d start trembling all over. I had horrible images of falling backward and injuring myself against the sharp jagged edges of the boulders, or just falling right off the mountain itself. If I could have a nickel for every time I glanced behind my shoulder and cringed, I would be rich by the time I made it to the mountain top.

It didn’t help to see people running up and down the mountain around me. They were probably frequent hikers. With advanced agility and dexterity, they hopped off boulders without missing a step. I felt like a snail in comparison to their cheetah-like movements. Unlike many others, I wasn’t concerned about reaching the peak of the mountain before sunset. I was just concerned about reaching the peak in one piece.

I panted all the way to the top. Even then, I just planted myself on one of the boulders and refused to inch to the edge of the mountain, insisting that the view was good enough from here. Eventually, I stepped closer to the edge to get a clearer view. The vision was breathtakingly beautiful. I could see the shape of Maumelle Lake, outlined by trees. I looked upward to the vast blue sky and saw eagles soaring freely across the horizon. I savored the view for what seemed like a good half hour, pleased at my perseverance for getting me here.

Climbing a mountain was no stroll in the woods for me. But I learned something important that day. I learned not to get ahead of myself as I was climbing; it helped to be slow and steady. The trick is to take one step at a time, choose your steps wisely and to keep your head up high. Glancing backward every 5 minutes isn’t going to boost your confidence. It’ll only make the climb a more intimidating than it actually is.

I guess the same concept of climbing a mountain can be applied to life. When life gives you a mountain, climb it. When you address the mountains that you’re facing with confidence and perseverance, you’ll be on top in no time. Take pleasure in getting there and acknowledge your accomplishments at every level. I personally think that life is more enjoyable when you can learn to be happy on your journey, and not just when you have reached your destination.

Written for The Echo.