Summit Thoughts During Valley Walks

Climbing a mountain is a lot like life.  There are ups and downs, highs and lows, obstacles, plateaus, valleys and peaks, aches and pains, second, third and fifth winds, falling and rising, and pondering your next move.  The valley has much beauty but you're too busy focusing on the path and getting to the tree line.  You're determined to reach the peak. The forest is dense and according to you, little to see except trees and the trail.  Little did you know a massive bull elk and a large female are grazing 10 yards to your left.  What beauties.  Your camera hangs from your neck pleading to be used.  Too late; you missed a great opportunity to see something special but your head was fixed on the trail.  Moments later a red fox 20 yards to the the right of the trail is standing on a boulder staring at you.  It seems at ease and has no reason to leave his box seat on this warm sunny day.  It's coat is beautiful and beginning to thicken as the winter months approach.  It yawns and lies down on the huge rock.  You're still focused on the dirt; head down and beginning to doubt your abilities.  The walk has already been long and you wonder if you'll ever reach the tree line.  Fatigue is setting in and the tree line is nowhere to be found.  You stop and take a sip of water. You're deciding whether or not to move forward.  You remain motionless for one minute, then two, now five.  Think about it, this trip could be done another day.  ABOUT FACE!  Your body does a 180 and you tell yourself, "I'll do this some other time."  You make it to the car, turn the key and head home.  Justification fills your mind.  "Many hikers are leaving." "I simply wasn't prepared."

However, some people reach the tree line.  When climbing a mountain most of your time is spent in the valley. The valley will drain you if you are unable to visualize yourself on the summit.  Finally you see the tree line and a glimpse of the summit.  Beyond the trees lie tundra, boulders, rocks and lots of huffing and puffing.  The rocks on the trail can slide and the incline is steeper.  But you're determined to move on so you take another step.  Optimism enters your mind.  I think  I can do this.  You reach 12,000' and see a peak you believe to be the summit.  You're rejuvenated regardless of any upcoming risks.  For a moment, you forget about those aching legs and stiffening lower back.  Your lungs start pleading for oxygen and you stop and take a few sips of water.  A sigh is released and you take another step.  Exhaustion is oncoming and the steepest part of the trek is ahead.  Doubt raises it's ugly head and fear begins to resonate.  You consider turning around but the peak is getting closer.  Movement continues and the top of the peak is reached. Oh No. False Summit. You were unable to see the real summit because the false summit hid it from your vision.  Disappointment sets in and you stop.  The altimeter removed from your backpack reads 12,750'. The summit will require another 1500' of effort. Negative thinking stops you in your tracks.  A boulder is near so you take a seat. "Wow," you think. "Returning to the valley and getting back to my vehicle seems very appealing but a voice in your head says, "take another step." Another replies, "you're not going to make it." The latter thought wins the battle.  You turn around and head back down.  First through some tundra until you hit the tree line.  You walk briskly through the valley and arrive at your Jeep. Under your breath you say, "I made it farther than most of the climbers." That you did. 

A select few make the false summit and aren't deterred.  This small group sees the desolate tundra and the rocky path but it comes as no surprise.  The summit is all they see.  They visualize themselves on the top celebrating their quest.  No pain, sliding rocks, risk of injury will prevent them from succeeding.  They have made their decision and turning back isn't one of them.  Sure, their muscles are screaming and lungs are pleading but they've decided.  Everyone stops to drink some water and eat a Cliff bar. Then one says,"Let's Do This!"

The weather is perfect, skies are clear and the wind is calm.  What a day it had turned out to be.  A couple of people in the distance are preparing to summit.  You receive your fourth wind and walk with more confidence.  You've accomplished much and are nearing the prize.  But weariness is powerful and you need some added strength and a dose of encouragement to finish.  Your group is experiencing similar thought and feelings.  You finally say, "I can't do this alone."  Everyone agrees.  "Let's pray," The team bows their heads and ask God for the additional strength needed to conquer the mountain.  A peace comes over everyone and the expression on every face changes.  "We're all going to make it!" Hope is renewed and bodies begin to move upward. 

At 13,700' you see 2 mountain goats standing on a ledge looking down at a beautiful lake.  You forget about the heavy pack, burning legs and sore feet and press on.  Inside you're thinking, "Take another step...take another step...one more step...."  Then you shout with vigor, "We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us."  You reach the ridge at 14,000' and see a select few taking pictures and talking on the summit.  The hardest part is over.  The terrain on the ridge levels out.  Your pace quickens and your heart is pumping.  You made it!  A handful of people give you a high five and say, "Way to go." You smile, embrace your team and find a place to sit, hydrate and have a snack.  After you've "chilled" for a bit you stand and view the splendor of the Rockies.  At every turn the landscape changes but remains magnificent in a new way.  The high mountain peaks created and painted by our Creator are beautiful with a capital B.  Your camera is set on continuous and the clicking lasts for several minutes.  

Then you look down into the valley.  That lonely, energy zapping  location that is required to experience before reaching the pinnacle and only goal of your journey.  You recall the limited views, dirt, and lots of effort just to reach the tree line.  "What a waste" you mumble to yourself.  "I wish I could start at the tree line.  Time and energy would be saved and the climb would be much easier."  No such luck.  

A few minutes pass and you begin to observe the beauty surrounding you.  The views of the Rockies makes you forget the struggle. You sigh and upload this incredible moment to be recalled another time. Your eyes decide to gaze at the path that brought you here. The spruce trees and ponderosa pines provide a beautiful green contrast to the brown, desolate, rock-covered tundra.  The aspens' golden leaves grace the valley with their fiery flare.  Beams of sunshine touching the clear blue lakes provide a diamond-like shimmering glare causing your jaw to drop. Something has changed.  The valley you earlier considered a waste of energy has captured your undivided attention. You realize time in the valley has much to offer and should be appreciated and embraced.  A paradigm shift has occurred.  You say quietly with a smile on your face, "I will no longer lower my head and negate the beauty and power of the valley.  No longer will it be considered a meaningless waste of time and energy.  Instead, I'll observe, listen, learn, live and take advantage of the meaningful time spent in the valley."  Despite some oncoming clouds, the sky seems to brighten. 


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