The thing with dreaming about a place for years, is it rarely meets your expectations. This was not the case for Rainier. We entered the national park late afternoon, the haze of wild fire turned the sky purple and blue, the mountain stood majestically at
the centre of the national park, protected by wild flowers of yellow and purple, and deep, lush forests of ferns. Clouds clung to the summit, refracting the late afternoon light. We pulled up at our first photography location, reflection lake. The lake was calm, peaceful. Golden hour lit the ferns and the blues clung to the shadows. A hiker approached us, having hiked his 3rd day in the wilderness begging for a ride so he could make camp. Rob agreed whilst I stayed to wander. I took to the trail down towards the lake and began to snap away, each photo as spectacular as the last, none of which was a result of my talent, simply location. Upon robs return, we wandered, marvelled, photographed and ate dinner opposite the lake, watching the last of the sun illuminate the summit.
The cloak of night fell upon the mountain and we found our camp spot for the night. Day two we woke, and drove to a partly thick part of forest for breakfast before heading out on our hike for the day. As we ate,very enjoyed the peace of the forest and watched the gold of the morning light brush the ferns and moss. We hiked the skyline trail that day the hike was relatively easy, passing meadows of wildflowers and fields of alpines until we finally climbed high enough to reach rocks and snow. I had no intention of making the loop on the count of my acrophobia, so towards the peak as scrambling became necessary, we turned around to enjoy the descent. After a strenuous hike, we made camp, set a fire and washed. It felt incredible.
Day 3 we woke. I was apprehensive about the days plans we we were scheduled to summit Mt Fremont, towards the fire lookout. The lookout stood at 7,300 feet high and to get there required a hike across some particularly thin ridges which lined sheer drops of thousands of feet. The hike started as they all do, full of excitement, talks of snack stops and jokes. Shortly into the journey came the first hurdle. I stood, weighing my options. Dry mouth, sweaty palms, legs locked, heart pounding. I was rooted to the spot. A physical challenge is one thing, over coming
a mental challenge is something else entirely. Your mind is the most powerful muscle in your body, and if you can't find a way to overcome those inner demons, it can prevent you from moving an inch. My fear of heights isn't something I can control well, it's not like my mind spirals full of intrusive thoughts before I have a panic attack, they seemingly come out of nowhere. One minute I'm fine, the next my whole body has seized, like someone has put the handbrake on and a wave of fear washes over me. My mouth goes dry, my heart pounds and not one muscle in my body can move. Everything tenses up. Then the spiralling happens. "What if I can't move"? "What if my body sways slightly and I fall off the cliff"? "Will I need to call mountain rescue"? "What if my fear and being stuck to the spot causes me to fall to my death"? So on, and so fourth, for what feels like hours, despite minutes passing. I watch some other hikers pass the same spot which has been the source of my grief, do some breathing exercises and push the fear to the pit of my stomach. One dry swallow later, a couple of small steps and a sigh of relief, and the moment has passed. The nervous adrenaline pumping through my veins becomes elation and I power on forward, invincible. We stopped at the frozen lake to refuel. Although we hadn't been hiking very long, panic attacks drain me in a kind of way no exercise can, and my anxiety gets worse with hunger, so it's important to regularly refuel, drink and take stops to adjust to new heights. The frozen lake was liquid and blue, a testament to the ongoing heatwave.
A strong wind whistled in the mountain air, and after half a peanut butter sandwich and some chopped apple, we were on our way again. It happened again. This time on a stretch of rock ridge which descended before climbing again. On the right hand side, a mountain, safety, something to cling onto. On the left, thousands of feet between my feet and the ground, and between us jagged rocks protruding from the side of the cliff edge. The usual symptoms set in, plus some fun new ones; my vision became distorted, suddenly the distance between myself and the point on the trail I was trying to get to started to move, my legs simultaneously buckled and tremored. Mouth dry, bile coming up my oesophagus. A hiker attempted to pass when he stopped, took one glance at me and took pity. He struck up a conversation about nothing and began to tell me about his fear of heights, his coping mechanisms and is journey hiking whilst battling his fear. He took us onboard for the rest of our journey and helped me past my fear.
As the trail went on, we learned about his career as a financial planner and the exam he was set to take, we learned it was his birthday, how his knee had been damaged for a year and the hike to Mt Fremont lookout was his comeback hike we also learned about his son and their hike to Montana, the time they saw a bear and his trek through the Nepalese mountains. Before we knew it, the path widened and the wind wrapped around us. We looked down on endless blue layers of mountains. Looking upwards we saw the summit of Mt Rainier. Clouds clinging to the snow, quiet, majestic. We finished our sandwiches, had some water and stuck around for photos before making the descent with our new companion, all the while talking, discussing our trip and planned adventures. The way down was nothing like the way up, I barely noticed as we passed the cliff edges, made our way down the slopes, past the lake and back to the junction.
When we reached the base, it was near sunset. Golden hour had filled in the meadows and set the trees on fire. We parted ways with our new friend, and walked around sunrise taking photos of the mountain in the changing light. As the gold light turned to blue, we hopped back into the car and made our way back to camp. Stars fell on the mountain and the moon lit up the night sky. It was the perfect way to end our adventure at Mt Rainier.
コメント