I grew up in Montana, so mountains have always been a part of my life. However, when you grow up surrounded by something, you don’t always recognize its magnificence. I moved away from Montana as a teenager and returned for a quick visit when I was in college. As I stepped out of the car into the driveway of my childhood home, I was taken aback by the beauty around me. I felt so small. These ridges of might surrounded me, and though they were terrifying, at the same time I felt grounded. The prairies and cow pastures that I had once ridden my bike through ended at the mountains, and where the mountains ended the sky began. I kept kicking myself that I had wanted to leave this place, that I had not recognized how lucky I was. I grew up not realizing how amazing my surroundings were. Regardless of my past, I was back now, and I was in awe.
My life since leaving the mountains had been rocky, so to speak. Growing up, learning about myself, knowing what I wanted to do, it was all really challenging.
A few months after visiting Montana, I was skiing down the Alps and hiking most weekends. I was spending the semester in Austria. I was able to walk out the door of where I was staying and hike a mountain. I started to realize that mountains boosted my mood. Hiking isn’t always easy, but spending time in nature is.
I think hiking, and a love of mountains, has to be in my blood. My parents met while hiking, my eighty five year old grandma walks every day. I also have to look at my German and Austrian heritage. A love of the outdoors is a huge part of both of those cultures. Nature motifs even appear in their art.
After I returned to the United States I spent the summer at my family’s home in California. Once again, the mountains were in my immediate surroundings. The summer ended quickly and once again, I returned to the hills and bad air of Ohio for my Junior year.
Compared to my European adventures in the prior year, that year of college was rather lame to be perfectly honest. I did not want to be where I was. I began researching summer internships. By March I had two amazing offers, one was to be a marketing assistant at a flower business in Los Angeles and the other was to write for a public relations piece at a high adventure base in rural New Mexico. This was a really tough decision, but in the end, I chose the New Mexico option.
I am so glad I did. I spent three months hiking about 30 or so miles a week, interviewing people in the backcountry. To think I almost gave that up for LA traffic makes me a little queasy.
Physically, this summer was beyond rewarding, but also very challenging. I was more aware than ever before of how much of a mental sport hiking is. When you have a full pack on, and are breathing at an altitude of at least 6,500 feet, and even up to 12, 441 feet, the only thing keeping your body going is your mind. When you’re making your way up the steepest part of the slope, your inner dialogue goes something like this.
“10 more feet, just make it to that stump, do not stop, you’ve got this, make it to the stump. You’re so close. You can breathe for a few when you get to the stump.”
Besides losing weight, and ending the summer feeling healthier and happier, my summer in the mountains prepared me for the rest of life. That inner dialogue I just described has come in handy when trying to get all my work done, or trying to balance work, and school, and my extracurriculars. I just calculated that for my senior year, approximately 60 hours of my week are spoken for, and that doesn’t include homework. Point being, this year has already been like hiking in high altitude. Not to mention there are also human and emotional factors to add to that. I definitely have had some “freak out” moments so to speak. But then I remind myself, “You signed up for this hike, you said yes to all of this.”
These first couple of weeks have been insanely stressful, but I remember that even the tallest mountains have a peak.
In my mind, life is like a really long hike. Childhood and my high school years were those easy side hikes where you learn about how to hike. Beginning college is getting started on the hike. You’re gear still needs adjusting, and you’re really excited for the views. Right now, at the end of college, I am realizing the intensity of the altitude. My lungs are adjusting, and I am still mentally preparing. If I learned anything this summer, I learned that you do get over the altitude, your lungs adjust. But, there are always unknowns on any hike. Out West, the weather can change in the wave of a hand. There are natural predators, bears, snakes, eagles. You have to worry about staying hydrated, and if the people you are hiking with are doing OK. That might sound like a lot to worry about, but it’s part of the fun. You start hiking, and you don’t worry about what could go wrong. You just do your best to prevent it, and do what you need to if something bad happens. You also learn from your mistakes. I won’t ever hike with a full pack, in the rain, and not use a map again.
Life is the same way. We could just sit there and worry about how long it is, and how much we have to do, and all the bad things that could happen, like cancer or bankruptcy. OR we can keep hiking down the trail and enjoy the time we have.
I hope, when I am 85, I can look back and say, “My life was a mountain.” I hope I don’t look back and see a flat trail that peaks on a boring East coast hill. I hope there are lot’s of steep switchbacks that end with beautiful views that overlook lakes and prairies. I want to make it down off the peak and be able to relax by a stream, sitting on a stump, knowing that I made it.
