Dome Rock: When your nerves (almost) get the best of you!

Detroit Lake!

I hiked a new trail yesterday! By myself. Something I haven't done in what feels like ages... And the thought of doing so sent my nerves into overdrive! I don't know why I so quickly forget the things that were once my “norm”, but it definitely leaves me scratching my head in bewilderment. The best example I have? Bikes. I used to ride bikes a lot (I say “a lot” because for “normal” people, it was a lot, but for “bike people”? I couldn't hold a candle to their miles!) And I just have to pause for a second and set the record straight: that whole “it's like riding a bike” phrase is the biggest.lie.ever! I don't know about you, but when I tried to ride a bike again after 15 or so years??? That was just ugly! I couldn't stay on the path to save myself! And after quite a few years of riding, and practicing going in a straight line, I still had to watch myself like a hawk or I'd end up in the ditch in 2-(distracted)-seconds-flat. I guess that's kind of my point though, when I was little and riding bikes every day during the summer, it was easy, the balance and coordination where natural. And then I got out of the habit, and it became hard. I had to work at it, and never was able to recapture that ease I had when I was younger, no matter how much I tried. Sure, I got to the point I'd built up to longer rides, got comfortable riding on the road, going further from home (I may still have had a 10 mile radius limit, if you do have to call for help, you want to limit the inconvenience, right?), exploring roads I'd never even driven down... And that was my "norm". But now, with like 9 months not having ridden? The thought of even being a couple of miles from home? The thought of riding on roads at all?!? With CARS?!?!? The thought of setting out for a 10 mile, let alone a 50 mile, ride??? That's all just crazy talk! Am I even sure I could still ride a bike??? What in the world was I ever thinking? I was insane! Wowza, makes my anxiety flare just to think of it. Yeah, let's not try to reignite any love for riding any time soon...

Mt Jefferson! Maybe someday??? :)

But hiking is no different for me! I had built my way up to this degree of comfort and confidence in myself where I was excited to seek out new trails, and go explore them on my own. Just escape and get away from it all. How far could I get from any semblance of civilization??? Let's see! And then I started hiking with my friend Tammy... I didn't always trust my emotions at that point in time (a lot of them were new for me and I struggled to process them), so I welcomed the distraction on the trail of not being left alone with my thoughts. It might not have always worked the same to get my head back on straight and get me grounded again, or go long distances with crazy elevation gains, but it was fun. And I got used to it. And it became my new “norm”. And lately... I've been terrified to go alone. At least to new trails—my old favorites aren't as much of an issue, I feel comfortable and safe with those (which probably makes Tammy oh so happy, since “training” isn't her goal in hiking, and she gets to sit out the treks up Defiance or Mary's). But a new trail? It's nerve racking for me! I don't really know what to expect. I can't gauge what's coming up. How do I pack my bag for the unknown? What if I take a wrong turn? Have I been past this tree before? Oh no, this isn't looking familiar, I swear this isn't looking familiar!What if I get lost?? Or what if I can't do it? What if I hike all those miles in, and can't get back out? What if I fail???

Tumble Lake in the distance

When people are there, even if it's just to listen as I think out-loud which turn to take, it gives me so much comfort. It's easy. I don't over-analyze all the write-ups and trail descriptions I can find, I don't freak-out about the time and what if I run out of daylight, I don't play all these games in my head of why I should turn back now. Because I know it'll be okay. I trust my instincts more. And my nerves stay at bay. I don't have to try and remind myself of all of the miles I've logged solo, or how this used to be my norm that I was perfectly comfortable with, all to convince myself “Hey, no one has murdered you yet. No bear has attacked you. You've still not fallen off a cliff and died (no matter how clumsy and uncoordinated you are). You've never not made it out. No--that sound is not some monster coming to get you. You've still never had to bust out your head lamp. You've got this!” Or today, a new addition to the mantra... “You freaking climbed Mt. Hood! Not even a week ago!!! Why are you worried about this???”

You could even catch a glimpse of Mt. Hood if you looked North. 360 degree views!!! It was amazing!

Nerves. They can be ugly. They can make us do stupid things. Like create new norms. And limit ourselves to what is easy. Or to stop progressing and growing. But do we want to be... limited? Or stagnant? Isn't it better if we kept our nerves in check by keeping our “norms” where we want them? By staying diligent and not wavering in our resolve? My devotions this week have driven this point home in a profound way (God likes to beat me over the head with an idea until it sinks in. Thanks, God. I think...) Our faith-journey is no different than anything else. If we slack off, if we don't prioritize our Bible time for a bit, or miss church for a couple of weeks, or skip out on Bible study... That all so easily becomes our new “norm”, and it can be torture to fight our way back into the habits that used to be so easy for us. It can be scary. It can feel overwhelming to find passion again for losing ourselves in God's Word, even if it was just a well-intentioned “break”... Just like finding passion again for being brave and exploring new trails can be hard when we've hung out in the safe comfort-zone for too long.

I almost let my nerves get the best of me today... I truly thought there was no way I was going to finish the hike, that I'd be turning around before the summit and tasting failure. I was sure the battle was lost before I'd even left my house, so why fight it? But I so didn't want to fail... I wanted to find my way back to that brave girl that loved exploring new trails... So I pushed on, even though my legs were screaming, I felt sick, and my body was sleep deprived. I pushed on, and prayed like heck that God would take my nerves away, and just let me battle my body and the trail... And He did. It was still a struggle, but I'm so glad I kept pushing... I would have missed out on all the beauty that is Dome Rock, and all the joy and praise I could offer God on the way down for having given me the strength to keep going. When my life gets crazy, I get so tempted to put off my Bible time, or being a Prayer Warrior for those I love. It can be so easy to "take a break", and say I'll get to it tomorrow. But I hope I can continue to stay the course, to keep up the good “habits” I've established in my spiritual life, and not settle for an “easier” norm. Making up lost ground is tough work! Work I'd rather just avoid having to do. So here's to the “working smarter, not harder” route instead, and just sticking with it. That being said... I think a certain book is calling my name...

Tumble Lake--Apparently there is even a waterfall somewhere!

And to my hiking friends, check out this far overlooked gem of a hike. You can hike to Dome Rock, or if you're really feeling ambitious, continue on to Tumble Lake. The trailhead is right on Hwy 22, just past Detroit Lake State Park. And even when the lake's accesses are packed, this trail is blissfully deserted. It's a lot of elevation gain, but so very worth the climb!

Can you say... "Happy Place"???