Catching Up From Summer: Recovery and Mt. Thielsen

Mt. Thielsen from Diamond Lake

I've been a slacker lately with my blog. Multiple times, I've written posts, and... Never gotten around to posting them. It seemed like too much effort, and the reality is that I have enjoyed being a hermit, enjoyed taking a break from the world. Living in the moment. Being intentional with my time, not thinking about how to craft what God is doing in my heart into words that would make sense to others. And maybe, just a little bit, I wasn't really sure what He was up to; and truth be known, I'm still not. I just know I'm enjoying the crazy journey, and trying to trust God will make it clear where it leads to next. So, in an effort to try and get caught up with what happened months ago... Here are a couple of blogs from Summer.

Cooper Shelter via the Timberline Trail

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This is something I wrote a few weeks [now months] ago, that I never posted. I'm not sure why, maybe because I was kind of over posting anything on Social media or maybe it just didn't feel as insightful as some things I write, but in seeing it still open on my much neglected laptop, I'm rather in awe of the progress I've made in just a few weeks. How successful my plans of enjoying the scenery, hiking to hike, and seeking the adventures has truly been. I summited a mountain yesterday [errr, start of August]. A small one, but still! Far more than I expected I'd be capable of this season, and it has it's own story to tell... But first, this one:

Not going to lie, even taking the dogs for walks at first kicked my butt. We went for lots and lots of walks during harvest!

I tried my first hike post-Denali, post-end of the denial of how weakened my body was. Okay, maybe there was a certain degree of denial left, because I totally thought I'd just go crush Mary's Peak like I always have... I had visions of getting up early, beating the heat, and being home by noon. On my way back to feeling like I could go climb some mountains still this season... Wrong. After another night with an unwelcomed visit by my friend, insomnia, I canceled my alarm when it went off at 5. But by 8, I was still awake, tired of “resting”, all bit of merciful dozing well behind me. So I got up, loaded Allis' pack, and we headed out.

Jefferson Park via S. Breitenbush

Truly, I probably didn't do that badly. I still roadkilled 3 men in my short hike. But within the first half mile, my legs were screaming with the exertion, I didn't have the stamina to truck up the steeper hills like normal, and the mental battle to keep going set in. The car was close... Maybe this just isn't my day... But I've only ever not summitted Mary's ONCE, and snow was involved. (Snow = legit enough of an excuse for someone like me to turn back, plus... I had a truck waiting for me at the warehouse, and had been horrifically sick.) So... I let pride fuel me for awhile, and finally, when I didn't feel like I could even get my legs to lift my feet anymore, I realized it was fine. I could go back to my car. Today wasn't really about going and crushing a trail, it wasn't about keeping my excellent summit stats, it wasn't about anything other than seeing where I was at physically, and getting my butt back on a trail. I had left my house! Unlike the numerous “plans” before, I had succeeded in making it to a trailhead, to face this honest evaluation of my body.

Triangulation Peak

Yes, it was rough, my legs are weak, my back was still making its protestations very apparent, my stamina is still oh so far from where it once was... But on the way down...? I ran. Not the whole 2.5 miles I'd gone up, but a few large sections of it. And oh did it feel good! Of course I saw a trailrunner running UP as I was coming down, and I was utterly cursing him with the ugliest and nastiest jealousy I've probably ever felt—there was a time I could do big sections of Mary's on the way UP as well, and after this less than impressive return to hiking, I rather doubt those days will return, but... At least there was progress. There was no way I could do any running towards the last of my training for Denali. None. It wasn't even a tempting thought!

Early morning hikes are the best--Black Butte

Once home, with achy legs and a body that was just crying out for a nap (which it got)... I wondered if I have the passion or drive in me to regain what I've lost. Or was hiking just one of those things that was no longer worth the energy, the effort, the time for me to invest in again? My bikes still hang in my garage, waiting for the day that I risk the coordinationally challenged and zero-balance reality that is “me” and go for a ride again. They are still waiting, but would my hiking shoes join them in waiting for my return? Oh I sure hope not! There is too much beauty on a trail. Too many wonderful smells of wilderness, too many miles begging for you to lose your soul on... I'm sure it will be a long road for me to get back to where mountains are an option (sigh, I had so many goals for this summer and fall), and I'm not going to push myself. I'm going to enjoy a break from any real “training” and just “hike”. Seek out those smaller adventures that never warranted the drive because they had no “training” qualities. Seek the spots that truly speak to my heart. Stop watching my pace stats and take the little moments to open my eyes to the beauty God placed around me. Relish those moments He designed just for me. It'll be a long road, but I'm hoping one that is a little more peace and beauty filled than I've had for awhile.

Mt. Thielsen Summit!

Rereading that blog post that almost wasn't, I remember all too well the uncertainty in my head at that moment. The fear that God was taking climbing and, worse, hiking from me. The fear of who I'd be without those things, how I'd keep my head in check when it got crazy, how I'd process things, how I'd grow. Who would I be without my crazy adventures that make the challenges of life pale in comparison, giving a very insecure woman some much needed confidence and strength. It was a dark moment. Darker than realizing I was going bald. As I was putting my untouched climbing gears away, trying to reestablish order in my neglected house, I found myself legitimately tempted to box it all up and donate it instead. Just get rid of the lot of it. I was angry with God, and hurt beyond belief as well—how could He do this to me??? How could He leave me here??? What was the point of all that work if it was just going to END???

Gold Butte Lookout

I knew I needed to find some new mojo, but it was hard. I looked at my lists of hikes I'd never gotten to do, and thought maybe I'd find the inspiration there... And sure, I saw some incredible things on some pathetically short hikes that still managed to kick my butt. And it was pleasant enough, but... It wasn't the same. I went to Ramona Falls. I hiked some of the Timberline Trail. I went to Triangulation Peak and Boca Cave. I went to Stahlman Point. I made the drive to the always beautiful but not long enough Iron Mountain. All were gorgeous. All taxed my energy and strength. And though I was excited I was finally seeing a little improvement physically (like oh my goodness, I was struggling so hard not to give up hope that I'd ever make progress)--and my hair was even regrowing, but my heart just wasn't in it... And that leads me to the decision to climb Mt. Thielsen.

Lake Ann

My parents and some dear friends of our family were going to be camping down at Diamond Lake like they do every year... And Thielsen is right there, just across the highway. It is hardly more gains than I had worked my way up to again, so realistically, it was feasible I could make it. It's just a little mountain, with some different elements that make it a little more exciting than just a slog. I told myself it was probably the only mountain I stood a chance at summitting this season, and if I failed, at least I'd get some fun times with friends and family out of it. So I decided to head down to Diamond Lake and go it solo—no way was anyone going to see me struggle that bad. No way were there going to be witnesses to the battle I needed to have with God regarding mountains and life and direction and purpose. Mom doesn't like when I solo, but... I figured she'd practically be within yelling distance and had ample means to track my GPS, so eh, she could deal. It was nice to just relax for a bit, but seeing that rocky spire pointing up into the sky, I was wondering how the heck I thought I could get up there, but did my best to ignore and just be in the moment.

Paradise Park via the PCT

I got up early, or rather I didn't sleep—having these weird dreams of zombies and death, and hoping they weren't foretelling of my plans for the day. I slipped out while the campground was still quiet, and the sky was just starting to get light. The trailhead lot was pretty deserted, just a couple of cars, which surprised me, and started making me doubt my decision to go solo. The spire is low grade rock, which isn't my forte. I was going without protection--no rope, no harness, nothing to prevent a major fall. I was hoping there would be people around for that part to at least put my mind at ease. But I put it out my head, because there were still a few miles and close to 4,000 feet of gain I needed to get through first. And oh was it rough. My body was protesting. I couldn't get any breakfast in my wonky stomach. My legs and lungs just didn't want to cooperate and get in a groove. But I pushed on. I told myself to just keep going—I didn't have to go fast, I didn't have to not stop, but I had to keep trying. And the first few miles clicked by. My body finally started to come alive, and all of a sudden... I was at the ridge. I wasn't mentally prepared to start “climbing” yet, I had struggled so much just on the approach! And now I needed to go up the steep ridge? You've got to be kidding me... So I found a nice sit-rock, and took a little break. Tried again to get some food in my stomach (thank the good Lord for gummies...) and finally took off again. I did the math, I had plenty of time to get to the spire by my goal time, so just needed to calm down, keep my head down, and GRIND! Okay, let's do this!

Golden Hour! Jefferson Park via PCT

Before I knew it, I glanced up and the spire was looming right in front of my face! I had somehow covered almost 2,000 feet of gains and hadn't even realized. It was like a major repeat of how God met me on Kilimanjaro, just like He was setting my feet on top of the mountain with no effort of my own. This time, yes, it was a grind, but the worship music in my ear buds was speaking straight to my soul, the temperature was mercifully cool, the air was dry and smelt of all my favorite pine-goodness-smells, and I had just got lost in the moment. Now this summit was right in front of me, and I found myself again, fighting back tears at how God can give us the most amazing things, when our soul needs them desperately. I took my time up the scramble—I have to fight for scramble. Plus, there was a team of five slowly making their way down, and I had left my helmet in the car thinking it would be deserted—so had no protection against rock fall, so I hung out for awhile at the edge of the route to stay out of their fall lines. And then the spire...

Not going to tell you... Off trail. But it was BEAUTIFUL.

I couldn't see the promised “worn” rocks that made the route obvious. I saw nothing obvious. I saw potential routes everywhere! But I wanted the RIGHT one... So fought my head more than necessary and had myself in a tizzy. If I couldn't find the route up, how the heck would I find it on the way down??? Maybe down is exactly where I should go... does it matter if I make it up the spire? Do I need a true summit? Oh geez. It was ugly. But I finally convinced my head to just shut.the.heck.up and climbed. It's a super easy climb, I'm just one that trusts my judgment better if someone is there so my pride keeps my freak out at bay letting me think clearly, and without that luxury, it was more mentally taxing than it needed to be. But I made it! And it was gorgeous! The lake, Mt. Bailey... The world at my feet. All the memories of how God meets me on mountains flooding back, and I was just in awe. But I saw no more obvious route indications from up top as I had from the bottom, and having seen no one else on their way up, I knew I was stuck having to downclimb this sucker solo, so I may as well suck it up and hurry and get it done and over with. As I was strapping on my pack and taking my first step off the edge, I prayed God wouldn't leave me alone here, that He would be with me, and not let me freak out. I had barely uttered this silent prayer when I heard something... could it be??? I hollered out “Is someone coming up??” And out of the quiet, a voice. A fellow climber. How he got up there without me seeing him, I will never understand, but it was exactly what I needed. We visited on the summit, and agreed to downclimb together. In his company, knowing I wouldn't have to downclimb alone, I was able to actually relax and take in the beauty of the world laid at my feet. He asked me how I'd gotten into climbing mountains, and I just simply said what has become my normal take-it-or-leave-it response, that I blame it on God, and the conversation moved on. He pointed out Crater Lake... Somehow, I had totally missed that this giant collection of peaks was actually in a circle with a lake in the middle, because what valley girl really thinks of seeing Crater Lake from the top of a peak? That just doesn't happen. I'm special, I know.

Threw down a marathon for the first time! Via MRT

Climbing down was a breeze, and off we went descending the scramble and back onto the ridge... Along the way, and much to my surprise, he asked more about why I blame God for mountain climbing, and it led to probably the most profound conversation I've ever had. Not profound in it's content necessarily, but profound in the way it correlated to what I've learned to expect of God: for Him to meet me on mountains. I thought He had done that on the way up, but then for the way down, as a bonus, He sent me a brother in Christ, someone that has struggles in faith and trusting God the same way I do, someone that seeks to find God in solo time on a mountain-side, begging for the epic, someone that can find strength and inspiration in how God created such beauty for us to marvel in. It was incredible to see someone else that mixes faith and the outdoors, and be reminded just how much God can use people anywhere, at any time, to speak to our hearts. I think we both walked back to our cars seeing God a little more clearly than we did when we'd left them hours before, and I'm so grateful that God works how He does.

Sometimes, you combine 3 shorter hikes into 1 day! Coffin, Bachelor, and Marion Lake

Follow Up: I absolutely love hiking again! My heart dreams of craziness and adventures. My mind drifts to the possibilities that trails and mountains hold in their midst. I continue to be amazed at how God uses trails to quiet my head so I can hear His whispers of peace and love and truth. I feel more like myself than I have in so long--my body can still be a traitor, but progress is being made, and passion makes up for the residual weakness. I have crossed so many trails off my bucketlist, and logged more miles than I had hoped for this year. I have found such blessing in all the solo time, and the courage to tackle things I would never have dreamed of on my own. I have discovered to a whole new depth the level of support and love around me, and have been actually enjoying walking in faith, blind to where the journey leads to. God is good.

Once again summiting Mary's. Everything is right in the world.