I don’t know the name of the craft festival we
were visiting that weekend in Michigan. I eyed the rock-climbing tower since
the moment we had arrived, but I kept quiet. We had circled around the booths
and tables, looking at beaded items and homemade ornaments. I finally got brave
and asked my dad if I could try the rock-climbing wall. It was either that or
elephant ears. Maybe the sun shone just right on those fake rock clefts, and I
desperately wanted to get up there and break my own personal record. My heart
beat fast as I was strapped in by a fellow teenager working a summer gig. I
looked up to catch a glimpse of the top of the tower and wasn’t scared for a
second. After the prompt, I confidently said “Belay On.” I instinctively put my right foot up and
started climbing. Fast. It’s usually pretty easy starting out, and my
adrenaline pushed me half-way up the tower. I could hear my Mom clap and say
“Go, baby girl!” Suddenly the hand-holds get smaller and farther apart, as if
the designers of the rock-wall are tricking me. I begin to repeat to myself,
“Climb with your legs, not your arms.” I know the achy feeling the day after I
climb, and it’s a rookie mistake. I start to panic a little and wonder if I can
make it to the next one. My fingers inch over a tiny blue fake rock with a
screw in it… and I have to hang on for a split second while my right foot
pushes off to the next rock. The pride of my parents looking on and cheering
gives me the confidence I need, and I run out of rock to climb. The wooden
balcony is close, and I feel the need to slam my hand against the top and give
it a good high five. I am swelling with pride. I feel amazing. I relax in my
harness and coast down to the bottom. My hands can’t stop shaking for 5 minutes
as I hug my parents and thank my dad for letting me climb. While it’s only a
couple of dollars to him, it means everything to me. In my book, I conquered a
mountain.
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A couple years ago, we joked with some seminary
friends that we should take a road trip to the Grand Canyon. After months of
planning and preparation, we actually pulled it off. We spent ten days with our
friends Kristine and Aaron Reiskytl traveling out west and visiting several
National Parks. At Zion National Park in Utah, there is a hike called “Angel’s
Landing.” It is a strenuous, steep, and dangerous hike. With two of the four of
us afraid of heights, we were not entirely sold on making it all the way to the
top. While I knew this was a debate and understood the concerns, my young body
was eager to take on the big challenge. We armed ourselves with trail mix, Gatorade, and
sandwiches in our backpacks, not knowing what the day would hold. The trail
started slow, and we steadily walked up the incline, careful to get enough air
as well as hydrate ourselves. We took a break and photographed the already
beautiful scenery. The whipping wind reminded us of our gradual ascent. We
smiled and laughed with each other, all of us feeling good.
As we made our way
around the back of the rock, Walter’s Wiggles emerged. Switchbacks lined the
way for us, and we anxiously got started. Walk about 25 feet, incline, walk 25
feet, incline. Back and forth, for several minutes all the way up to Scout Lookout. Scout Lookout became our decision post. I would
prefer to rename it “Attack of the Evil Chipmunks.” We were warned about these
tourist-loving creatures. Chipmunks climb on your back, eat your lunch, bite
your hands, and overall give you the most miserable and helpless feeling. It’s
impossible to sit on the rocks and enjoy a nice lunch break, because the
chipmunks come at you from EVERY angle. They were small but bold and
deceivingly vicious. I pictured an unexpected visit to the Emergency Room for
rabies and tugged on my husband to walk away with me.
Minutes later we stared up at a skinny trail
riddled with thick silver chains. Small trees and vegetation poked up through
the rocks. Moment of truth, ladies and gentlemen. I didn’t have to think about
it, and I eagerly led the pack, followed by Kevin, Kristine, and Aaron. My
hands gripped the chains, and I turned into a little monkey who had just been
released into the wild. All I saw in front of me was the clay-colored rock, and
I felt an absolute determination to go forward. I climbed and climbed and
climbed. I allowed myself to glance down the right side of the sheer rock and
felt like I was on a roller coaster with no seatbelt. I occasionally peered
back to the others, knowing they were in good hands. I grappled with rock after
rock and pressed on, sometimes foregoing the chain and just using my bare
hands. I never knew what waited for me around each bend, and curiosity ate at
me constantly.
The last few steps brought us to a large, flat surface, and I
knew we had made it. It was a difficult task to harness my energy and stay
within the bounds of the surface. I explored every inch of the top and took in
the breathtaking landscape of the entire Zion National Park. At nearly 5800
feet, this was the kind of view that you work hard for.
As if being at the very top wasn’t enough already,
I found a skinny rock formation that was a good 10 feet higher and only a
couple feet wide. I started up that rock in a hurry, pausing after realizing
how windy it felt. At first I didn’t know if I could stand all the way up. I
could hear my t-shirt flapping in the wind, and fear quickly surged me. I
slowly stood all the way up and felt like Superwoman. THIS was as high as I
could get. Kevin looked on with worry, and I promised him I was fine. I
couldn’t wipe the smile off my face and felt like a little kid on the top of
the playground.
Reaching the summit was indeed an accomplishment
for all of us. Hiking Angel’s landing is risky, mentally taxing, and flat out
scary to most people. The chase to the top, the rush of adrenaline, and the
constant climb was so riveting to me. I hiked a trail that some have lost their
life on. My footsteps let rocks loose that tumbled down the cliff thousands of
feet below me. I clung to a metal chain that determined life or death for me. I
embraced the reality that I conquered the feat on my own.
We may have been on
top of the mountain, but I felt like I was on top of the world.
 |
| We did it! |
 |
| Kristine and Aaron are beasts! |
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