The Countdown Is Almost Over: Jordan, Egypt, and Israel!

The countdown is feeling real. Like really real. Like easily measured in hours, not days or weeks kind of real... I leave Sunday afternoon. And my bag is already packed and ready to go. Today, I threw my last 50 for almost 3 weeks and worked at getting the warehouse cleaned up and ready to shut down for a bit. I even told my “bastards” (horrid, but it's--usually--a term of endearment, what I call all my palletized 50's, since they're kind of my “kids” which I'm actually really proud of, and I'm not married, so it seemed a fitting name...) good bye, knowing some of them will likely be missing when I get back, having moved on to the land of pallets in the sky (or rather shipped to Halsey). And as I left, I was a bit teary eyed. Then tonight, we had a family dinner as a chance for everyone to catch up after a long and crazy-busy summer... And again, it was hard to say goodbye.

All week, people had been telling to have a great trip, and... to stay safe. And always, with a weary look that doesn't seem typical when I leave on trips. I think most of it is that people are inherently scared of the Holy Lands, because there is a constant state of unrest there. You put that many religions together that all consider Jerusalem a holy site, and there is bound to be conflict. But there is also tremendous amounts of security... And realistically, how many millions travel there each year completely unscathed? Nothing in life is without risk, and the risks I do take, are calculated ones. It's who I am. I way over-analyze the situation, looking at all the pro's and con's, and choose if it's worth it to me. And going to the Holy Lands? It's scary on the surface, sure, but beneath that... It's reasonably safe, and definitely worth the risk to me. To experience those places, breathe a new life and reality into all those “stories” I've heard from the Bible all my life... To learn whatever God is wanting to show me.

For some though, the fear goes beyond just the fear of the Holy Lands... It's the things I intend to do in the Holy Lands. And I have to try and keep it in perspective, that if I was doing those things here in the States, they'd be plenty worried as well, but it does make it progressively harder to not let it get to me... And that's hard to explain, or even fully wrap my head around. It's hard because it brings to life the turmoil in my heart of the life I have and the life I so very much long for... My brother told me that he'd say to not do anything he wouldn't do, but that would mean not going on the entire trip, so... Thanks Jered, super helpful. He was more upset about this than any of the mountains I've climbed. Like, way more upset... Kevin, always supportive Kevin, even was hesitant and the mere mention of land mines... Nope, he was siding with Mom on requiring the GPS watch (which I now have, and know how to use, so rest just a little easier). Mom said she can't tell me not to go, because she went... Of course she didn't do some of the things I'm planning on doing, but still... Reasonably the same, and she knows she can't be a hypocrite as much as I'm sure she'd prefer I stay home. Tammy asked legitimately if I want to die. And sadly, she wasn't the only one... Nathaniel at the Soup Kitchen had the same reaction, pretty sure Sean's was along those lines too... But no, I do not have a death wish—but rest assured, if I do happen to die, it'll be a day to celebrate. I'll be with Jesus, and it doesn't get better than that.

But having no fear of death...? It does make it easier to take risks. And that's sometimes worrisome in the sense that I don't know what's “normal” anymore. I watch other climbers/hikers worry about this or that, and I'm just like “oh posh...” They were terrified of the bears on this hike I did, and I was like “A bear??? I wanna see! Show me!!!” Later, my hiking partner said that when someone says there is a bear ahead, you should not rush up the trail to go find it... I thought he was just a spoiled sport, I mean it's not spring time, they aren't “hangry” right now, they're fat and ready to go to bed for a few months... But is this not normal? Am I wrong in thinking they are just being overly cautious and that I'm being perfectly sensible? Have I become someone that uses risks to distract from reality?

Sometimes I feel like I need to make up for lost time... I didn't truly live for so long, that I want to experience it all now, no time to waste! Yet, I'm still very much clinging to hope (and begging God) for the life I want... The one that will effectively put a stop to all of this... I want a husband, I want someone to spend my life with, to have a family with... Someone worth laying down all the unnecessary risks for, to truly put first in my life (apart from God). I want to sacrifice that to protect my family... No mountain would ever be worth the risk of leaving behind a family... No hike, no adventure would ever be worth that, and life is already risky enough. I never thought I wanted that life, until I felt it'd been dropped in my lap. Then it got yanked out from under me, and left me reeling, and in some ways, I truly feel like “What does it matter? What do you have to lose???” And maybe that's not the right thinking to have, but logically, it's the truth. But does it mean I take extra risk because of that truth? To distract myself from that reality? No, I'm quite certain I don't... Most of what I do in my life that seems “risky” is exactly where I feel God wants me to be... Every mountain, every adventure, every single risk. And it leads me to the ways I feel Him the strongest, to rely on Him the most, to celebrate how He's moving in my life in the most incredible ways, to remember that He truly isn't done with me yet.

I might not see risk the way I used to, when I saw danger and fear everywhere and tried desperately to live in my little bubble of “safety”. I may hate this crazy life at times because I feel it keeps taking me farther from the life I want, but this is the life I have right now. And I intend to live it, and live it well. To go where ever God leads me, even if it seems everyone else thinks it's insane of me. And believe me, it's hard to grasp at times that this is somehow my life. Plenty of times I find myself on the floor either in tears or shock at the realization of what my life is like now... How it mirrors so many things about someone I resented for these same things... And I take comfort in the fact that I know how important it is to me to make that sacrifice some day to lay it all down, to start making the “safe” choices again... But for better or worse, risky or just insane, this is my life. My ICE bracelet is on my wrist complete with the most valuable lesson—“Fear Not + God is With You” (paraphrase of Joshua 1:9), as is the addition of my very high tech GPS watch already loaded with the tracks I plan to take, and my baby ice axe bracelet—to remind me of who I am and all the crazy things God has already led me to conquer.

I completely understand why someone might think going and hiking through an area known to have active land mines might be insane... Or why crossing into Jordan might be ill-advised... And don't even think about Egypt... I get it. And all of their worries and expressions of concern might mess with my head a little, causing flares of anxiety and making me doubt my decision to go a wee bit... But crazy or not, the thing I know the most is that I'm not afraid. Crazy or not, I know this is where I'm supposed to be. My heart has peace in it, so off I'll go... And I can't wait to see what God has in store for me as the reward for being obedient to where He wants to take me. Following Him when the world is trying to stop me always makes for the most incredible lessons... Stay tuned. It's bound to be a wonderful adventure! And filled with pictures, which this post is sorely missing... 

The End Of Summer--On to Mt. Sinai!

Hiking up the Sahale Arm, North Cascades NP

It's hard for me to believe that summer is over, but I'm also so, so incredibly happy to realize Fall is here. I put away all my climbing gear, my backpacking gear, and all the things that have been on my dining room table getting packed, unpacked, and re-packed all summer long. The seemingly endless trips every weekend, the feeling of losing my mind not being able to keep straight where I'm off to next of how in the world I'm going to get everything done. Not to mention trying to do it all while still cranking out the most seed I've ever cleaned through my warehouse on tight shipping deadlines. It's been exhausting! Amazing, and crazy, and awe inspiring of how God leads me down paths I never dreamed I'd wander, but... Exhausting.

Yukti and I on top of Mt. Shasta, CA

I knew I was hitting the wall of trying to do too much for too long, but I had felt so much that mountains were where God wanted me, and gosh darn, I was going to go at them hard. And God was gracious in rewarding me: with so many lessons about life, and learning about myself, and incredible conversations with people along the way, and always seeming to get everything done that I needed to... I somehow always had clean clothes to wear, food to eat (thank the good Lord that He led me to working at the Soup Kitchen, they have been a life saver in taking pity on me and sending home leftovers), and my responsibilities covered. It was an amazing summer. But it took a toll.

Bible time on the deck at my favorite place--Woahink Lake

When I get really tired, I lose my ability to really reign in my crazy brain, to focus, to cling to God's promises, and just live in the peace He offers. Worries and anxieties started creeping back in, and feelings of frustration and despair—to put it simply, I felt rudderless. Mountains weren't speaking to me the same way, I knew climbing season was winding down for me, and I just didn't feel like doing anything. I'll confess, I don't like to be aimless, yet I know sometimes God makes us take a break. We can't always be working, working, working towards goals and plans and whatever He is wanting us to do in life, sometimes we have to just be still. Rest. Recharge. Get ready for what's next. But oh my, it can feel like you're wasting time, and I'm soooo not a fan of wasting time. I'm the person who's TV hasn't been turned on in months—because I don't like wasting time. The thought of aimless driving makes me cringe because I want to know where I'm going and just get there. No, feeling rudderless, and like there is no where for me to be headed but to just sit and wait at God's mercy of what's in store next... Isn't really the easiest place for me to be.

More prettiness from Sahale!

Have you ever noticed how much easier waiting is when you have distractions? You have 30 minutes to kill, and staring at the wall, it feels like 3 hours! But with a good distraction, it feels like 5 minutes! Yet too many distractions, and we're exhausted, either physically or mentally or both... But still, I tend to rebel when I find myself in this place of needing to cut distractions and just rest... And I feel bad, incredibly guilty, because I know God is taking care of me in His most tender and loving way... And yet here I am, grumbling and fighting him, and taking on more stuff to do as soon as my calendar starts mercifully opening up just a smidgen. Yes, I'm a slow learner, and still really struggle to say no!

Trying to find motivation to keep grinding on this pile... Just one scoop at a time.

I finally hit that point that I knew I couldn't do everything much longer, even if I knew ultimately it was God helping me out, but physically I was to that point I couldn't even get my eyes to focus long enough to read... My Bible time would be reading the same verse 5 times still trying to get it through my brain what the words were actually saying before giving up that it was yet another night of wasted effort. I didn't like what I was feeling, that icky numbness inside, that screams to the fact that your intake of Godly influences has dropped dangerously low, and your reserves are depleted. I didn't have time to process all the things God was showing me, let alone write about them. I missed church! I missed having the habit of Bible study! I missed having those moments when God's presence is so strong around you that you're just giddy. And I really missed when I wasn't pleading with God to show me how things “made sense”, to clue me in to His plan so I could trust him easier... When I'm rested, I can trust Him without having to have proof! I missed that.

Second attempt at Mt. Shasta was victorious!

And then I finally looked at the calendar... I had cleaned almost a million pounds of seed in a little over a month. The calendar was showing an entire extra month of time before my deadlines than I remembered figuring for. I got an incredible vice chairperson for Strawberry Festival that was a total God-send. My dad left for a week, and I got to help my brother spray rather than be cooped up in the warehouse—guilt free since I was so far ahead of schedule. I got to take naps! I went on a restful “hiking” trip that was far more geared to fun than achieving any sort of goals or mountains. I made it to church and was greeted with open arms by my ever loving church family. I got to spend mornings so wrapped in God's love during prayer time and evenings at home to actually have Bible study and get caught up on the to-do's. And little by little, I felt alive again. This, this is who I am. A woman that knows that God loves me, that knows God is good, that knows God is trustworthy, that knows God is working so much beauty from every bit of bad or mistakes or hurt. I know these things. I don't need proof.

I have a thing for National Parks... And hadn't been here yet!

When I'm really tired, it's hard to lay down my human “wisdom” and understanding, and rely instead on God's wisdom, which is beyond my ability to comprehend. I see things in my life and get discouraged that there is no possible way these things make sense, that this all works out, that there is anyway through this mess. But when I'm rested? I remember what God has shown me... The evidence He has placed in my life that serves as reminders that He is always working on our behalf, that He has seen the beginning and the end and knows exactly how to weave all these things together for good and for His glory. There is an incredibly powerful story I wish I could find the words to share, that shows just how amazing God is at working behind the scenes, creating these perfect knock-your-socks-off plans for us if only we trust him and keep to His plan... The perfect reminder to never lose faith and default to our own “wisdom” or we just might miss out on what awesomeness He had in place waiting for us to just surrender, so He could give us far more than our wildest dreams... But I don't have the right words to share that soul-baring story. I've actually been going round and round with God about it, knowing He wanted me to write it, but me knowing it had the power to hurt people, and pleading with God for a different way to explain it that was just as impactful—or else some very clear confirmation that it's what I was supposed to write. Some day I might still write that story, but for today, I offer up a story that is also weighing on my heart, and one that likewise shows my incredible awe at God's love in working behind the scenes to prepare His plans for us...

Mt. Sinai. I. Can't. Wait.

I leave in a week to climb Mt. Sinai (well, the main chunk of the trip is Israel, and not to discredit my level of excitement about that... But it doesn't stir my heart to nearly the degree that Mt. Sinai does). Just typing those words... Mt. Sinai. There are tears in my eyes, and such joy in my heart. This isn't a real “climb”, the monks have literally hewn steps into the rock clear to the summit. But regardless, it's Mt. Sinai... A mountain that has held my heart as long as I can remember. It's hard to put into words why this mountain has always captured my interest, maybe because I love the story of Moses and how God used someone who couldn't speak well to deliver His people from a great and stubborn nation, someone with such faults and inadequacies, someone so unlikely yet God did such incredible things through his life. Or maybe it's because it's a mountain that God's own presence descended upon... God! Not an angel, not the Holy Spirit, but God... He brought his presence down and actually met with Moses! And to stand in that place? To be atop that same mountain? Oh my... I can hardly contain myself.

Sunshine at Woahink! Because sometimes you need to not hike...

The idea that I could ever actually do such a thing as travel to the Middle East and climb a mountain? It would never have happened if God hadn't led me down this crazy path of climbing mountains... I still find myself thinking that “I could never do something like that...” Then I realize, why can't I??? I've climbed a 14er, do I really think I couldn't get my butt up a “mountain” in the Middle East? But even to consider that anyone would do such a thing... Climbing mountains was just never on my radar! It would never have crossed my mind! God has woven so much together the past couple of years to make this trip happen, from leading me to put money aside, to building my confidence in myself, to drawing me to Him in such real and meaningful ways... And to say it's beyond my wildest dreams is so incredibly true. I am still discovering more and more ways He has been working and preparing this experience for me, realizing just how much was going on behind the scenes that I wasn't privy to—like accidentally booking my flights for the wrong day and causing extra time I needed to fill... And oh it's an incredible feeling. When you realize just how much effort God puts in to your life, just how active and present He is, just how much He cares... It reminds me over and over how much I want to choose His path not my own. How much I never want to default to human “wisdom” and understanding to be my decision maker, but to be okay living in the belief of the impossible, because I serve a Big God. Who doesn't have the word impossible in His vocabulary. I never want to risk missing out on the awesome plans He has in store for me because I lost faith, or patience, or let my pride of needing to be in control get in the way. Or because I was just too worn down and exhausted to actually experience it.

Hiking in North Cascades, NP

So today, I will choose to praise God for the “break” He has created in my life to rest. Even if sometimes I still feel like I'm wasting time and not being productive for Him nearly enough. I will relish in the “being still”, and remember that He's at work, creating the most incredible of plans for my life, and that the next season of craziness and going hard at something will eventually come, and I better be rested and ready to tackle that mountain. And I can just wait in anxious anticipation to find out what it is... Knowing God, it's sure to be something crazy-amazing.  

Mount Shasta: Healing in Creation

Mount Shasta from Bunny Flats TH, 14,179ft

As I've gotten sucked further into the world of mountains, I find I'm (often!) asking myself: Why? Why are you doing this? Why not turn around? Why try to go higher? Why do you keep coming up with new ways to torture yourself? Don't you find this crazy, and a ton of work, and time consuming, and... well, crazy??? Most climbers would probably just pull a George Mallory and say "Because it's there!" Or another classic go-to: to see if I can! To see what my body is capable of! But as a massive over-thinker, a superficial answer would never suffice for me. And getting the opportunity to spend more time with people that also have a love of mountains, I've noticed a real pattern that causes me to think that those quick and superficial answers are actually indicative of the real reason they are out there, whether they fully understand that reason or not.

Setting out! The plan was to climb 7,300ft in ~5.5 miles over 3 days

The first person I was really exposed to that did "crazy" stuff would have to be my ex who rode bikes competitively. I wanted to understand the why... why the time, the effort, the dedication, the pain and agony... But try as he may to explain, and try as I might to understand, I didn't get it. Pieces of it, sure—clearing your head, being in nature and feeling closer to God, wanting to live a healthy life. I had found those bits true for myself in hiking and riding so I could rationalize those aspects, but I knew they weren't enough to fuel that degree of commitment, or drive, or obsession. It seemed like something was missing from the explanations, even the ones written by other athletes and sent to me to try and help me "understand". It all seemed like a carefully constructed web of justifications, but hollow on the inside. Somehow not getting to the heart, or the real reason. Maybe it was just me, maybe there was nothing missing in his explanation, or that I just wasn't in a place yet to understand, maybe God was just leading and preparing my heart for where I needed to go... But I've noticed that this feeling of a seemingly hollow web of justifications and superficial reasoning tends to be a trend for a ton of people doing "crazy" stuff and pushing beyond the bounds of involvement normal people would enjoy. Of course, over-thinker that I am, when presented with something I don't understand, it became a reoccurring question in my head, annoying me in my inability to find an answer—even long after I felt it had any applicability to my life. It wasn't something I had ever thought about previously, but as I became more and more exposed to people living lives of pushing their bodies to do insane and incredible things (living in the "crazy"), it really caused me to want to dig deeper, to finally understand... To put that question to rest once and for all. I just never thought I would finally understand because I had somehow became someone doing some of those crazy things. And that's still hard to process at times, but I'm working on it.

Horse Camp! We stayed here our first night, it was incredible!

I had been following a friend's journey of using trail running to heal her body, and to make up for the lost time her health issues had cost her. There was so much about her story I could relate to. I understand feeling like you wasted time in your life and want to make up for it, oh how I get that feeling. And sometimes I think I overwhelm myself trying to do just that; but using the outdoors, using the "crazy" to heal? Yes, this was making so much sense to me as I was journeying in the healing myself, and starting to recognize the prevalence of the hurting in others. I had started to recognize the quickness to give the easy and superficial answers to the "why" as an indicator to the hurt laying under the surface, it is often a deflection, a denial that there is more to it. There are wonderful articles about others using running/trail running/cycling/hiking/mountaineering/what have you to help heal their minds and bodies, and I can totally get behind that logic having experienced it myself, and as much as it seemed like the pieces were starting to fall into place for me to understand all this crazy, something still didn't quite add up for me...

Peter and Chatchay working their way up the Climber's Causeway

It really wasn't until this weekend that I think I finally got it. Not the superficial explanations of why people do this stuff, but the deeper truth... I've met a lot of people now that live in the crazy. All these sports, but especially mountains it seems, have an uncanny ability to absolutely strip away all barriers and conceptions of what is normal or decent or proper... They leave you vulnerable and incredibly authentic. And the result is that you get to see a lot more about people in very short periods of time than regular life affords. And most have some degree of hurting. Sure, some might be completely well adjusted and just truly enjoy pushing themselves to the point of agony instead of kicking back and watching tv or something, it's possible. But I think those are by far-and-away the minority. Some might carry it better than others, or hide it better, think they are cured of the hurts, or simply in denial that they exist. But most, whether they recognize it or not, are running from that hurt or seeking the healing help that nature has to offer. They might say they are only out there to see what their bodies are capable of or to climb a mountain because it's there, or any number of superficial reasons just as a defensive mechanism to protect themselves from the truth of the hurt lurking in their hearts and minds. Or maybe they are like I was for so long and are in absolute denial that their hurt runs so deep but have intuitively found that they can use nature and their sport as a coping mechanism, or a tool to process, or a distraction so they can avoid the hurt entirely. I've been guilty of it all, but in this journey of healing, I didn't just want a "treatment" for these problems and hurts that had been brought to the surface. I didn't just want something that helped me get through a day or week, but left me needing another patch job after that. I didn't want another crutch in my life, something that my mind would become fixated on to keep me feeling okay and in control of my problems. I didn't want to become one of these people that need a sport in their life so desperately to keep themselves going. No, I wanted a cure. I was done wasting time with the nonsense of these hurts, and wanted to beat it once and for all.

The Causeway had big stones all along it to walk on--so neat!

And there in lies the beauty for me... Reading through what I wrote in my prayer journal during my trip to Mount Shasta, I found this: "I was talking with the others about [...] why I come do these things, and it's amazing how so many need healing and find it in your Creation... Lord, help them see you in it. You were amazing to provide this for us, but it's more than Creation, it's YOU." God wired us to run to his Creation to seek healing, and that truth is found in one of my favorite verses: "Therefore, behold, I will allure her, will bring her into the wilderness, and speak comfort to her" (Hosea 2:14), but ultimately... the healing Creation is capable of giving us is only part of the curative healing we're wired to crave. If we allow ourselves to be content with that degree of healing, if we settle for the easy superficial and safe answers to the “why” and fool ourselves into thinking we're okay and have our problems under control, if we cut out those people from our lives that don't understand and question us and force us to dig deeper to find the real truth of our motivations... If we are okay with the band-aid and temporary relief and never own up to the truth that we want something more... If we don't let things get stirred up and force those hurts to get laid bare, brought to the surface demanding to be dealt with once and for all, if we don't let ourselves see that running to nature and pushing ourselves into the crazy, isn't actually curing us but only treating the symptoms of the hurt we want to forget or deny or dismiss... then we miss the true blessing of what that calling to nature truly affords. Creation points us to what is even greater at alleviating the hurts, our ultimate healer... the CREATOR.

Getting into snow headed up to Helen Lake!

My mother likes to tell me that most people aren't insightful enough to care to evaluate why their lives aren't as good as they could be, or to push beyond accepting the mediocre. I don't want mediocrity in life, and I sure don't want it in my faith. I thought I loved mountains because of the perspective the summit affords... The views of God's Creation of course, but also in the greater sense: the accomplishment of a challenge, a tangible precipice to look back on where you've come from in life and evaluate where you're going, and a chance to really praise God for the journey of life that seems so beautiful from up there. But I realize as true as those things are, mountains are so much more than summits for me. They are a chance to not just get a treatment for my problems that will leave me needing more tomorrow or next week, but a chance to be stripped bare and let God do the work of true healing. To show me my true self, to teach me incredible lessons in the raw and vulnerable, to break down the walls and barriers that prevent me from seeing who I am really becoming. "I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order" (John Burroughs) is one of my favorite quotes, but without God in the mix, without letting Him work in the crazy to actually cure me and not just let his Creation put a band-aid on my problems, it's all for not. I'm so grateful this is how we're wired, to run to the wilderness, and to find God there when we finally let our knees hit the ground in surrender to His love and healing.

Camping at Helen Lake, Elevation 10,443ft

Mount Shasta taught me a lot. I'm still processing it all. Some of it is still hard for me to accept... like how incredibly different I've become by this journey. I got teased and didn't freak-out in debilitating discomfort, I slept in a tiny tent with two guys I had just met (me, who could never be near guys without freaking out that I might get hurt), I fell on my butt in front of a whole group of climbers so many times and never once was embarrassed but just laughed and razzed them back, I changed clothes in yet another crowded parking lot (and had it pointed out that if I thought I was being immodest, I obviously hadn't noticed the naked people walking around by the rainbow painted buses), but more than all these rather shallow (but poignant) changes... God showed me something very interesting about my heart.

The view up from Helen Lake, you can see the "heart" towards the center below the "Red Banks"

I still struggle at times to believe good things about myself (good things could be attractive things to someone, which could get me hurt, so bad things were good and good were bad), and this mountain finally let one good thing get into my heart with the full weight of truth attached to it, not just logic. Towards the start of my journey of healing, while trying to process how someone ever moves if their heart is incapable of becoming unloving toward someone, my dear friend said it would be impossible for me because I'm so loyal, my heart can't un-love, that I'd have to accept that reality and find a way to love in a healthy way that would still allow me to move forward with life. I could see his logic, but that word loyal... That had me hung up on the accuracy of his evaluation of my heart. But when stripping the word "loyal" down to its definition (a trick I've learned when I freak-out about applying words to situations or people or myself, so I can clear the messed up connotations my mind has created about those words), I knew he was right, but my heart still couldn't process it. Loyal is a good thing, surely I'm not that good... But trekking up to Helen Lake, our second and final base camp on Mount Shasta, I found myself pondering this word: loyal. I've written it in the front pages of my Bibles and journals, "Kevin says I'm loyal. Pastor Scott says I'm tender-hearted. God says I'm enough..." (and so on), and I see it and try to find the truth in these "good" things. And it's hard. But that trek up to Helen, I found myself feeling so protective of this incredibly inspiring woman in our group. 

No summit bid at 3AM meant a nap and waking up to this!

I would say she was quite a bit older than my mother, but boy was she a tough cookie! She had summited Shasta 4 times, and skied down most of those times. She fell off a cliff in December hiking, and was hospitalized with a punctured lung amongst other things, and yet here she was, trucking up a mountain. Yeah, she was slower, but my lands, she was incredible. I offered to hike with her so the others could go ahead at a quicker pace. And had the most amazing time visiting with her during our "breathers". And then while hiking, I'd ponder... Loyal... Is this loyalty? When she couldn't summit bid Sunday morning because an eye had gotten severely inflamed and irritated by a torn contact lens... I knew my hesitation of attempting the summit had been for a reason, I couldn't leave this woman alone at base camp. If it hadn't been so windy or if I'd been feeling 100% and not been having the worst cramps in my life that no amount of Aleve and ibuprofen could even begin to alleviate, I may have made the selfish decision and gone for the summit... Even as it was, my cramps were relenting and I was feeling good, and I was wondering if I should try for the summit instead... Maybe this was just mountaineering code that I wasn't used to? Wouldn't I be a failure if I don't get the summit? And I really want this summit! I came this far! But I knew that wasn't what my heart was driving me to do, I knew that wasn't the person I wanted to be, who could leave someone in their time of need despite how (arguably) safe and secure she'd be... I knew that wasn't the lesson God had for me on this mountain.

Glissading down with Marianne!

Hiking back down with Marianne, taking our sweet time while the others summited, I grappled some more with this word loyal, and then my mom threw "compassionate" into the mix when I got a message out that I wasn't going for the summit so she could stop worrying, and I'll have to process that word some more before it ever feels true... but loyal? Yes, that word finally holds truth in my heart as a word that describes me. And I thank God for bringing me on a path to find the truths He has for me, to be led on journey to have my walls and protections stripped away, and to heal my broken mind and heart enough to grow and truly grasp His incredible love for me. The journey makes me fall more and more in love with Him, and makes me even more appreciative that I now can recognize the difference between running to nature to be temporarily "soothed" and going there to be truly healed. I want the healing in my life—the cure, so I aim at making sure all of my treks into nature stay fully rooted in the One who created it and wired my heart to seek Him there. God is good! And so are mountains.

When you realize your desperate attempt to avoid burning your nose again makes you look like a ninja...

Another visit to Mount Shasta will be in my future at some point, so I can finally add that peak to my book, but it will be in God's timing, and in accordance with the lessons He has in store for me. And I'm definitely okay with that plan.

 

View of the Mountain from Horse Camp

Going Solo and Climbing Mount Adams

There she is. Mount Adams.

It's back to the combine today, but my mind is still kind of lost in the mountains! And I kind of love it. I took off Saturday night after finishing up combining for the week, and drove up to Trout Lake, Washington. I got my volcano permit (required for climbers above 7,000 feet) at the ranger station, then made my way up the 12+ miles of winding single-lane gravel forest roads (can you call that gravel?) to the trailhead. With leaving the house at around 11PM, I'd been feeling a bit sleepy on the boring freeways, but the dodging of trees and potholes and washboard-galore sure got me woken up in a hurry! I somehow ended up with a prime parking spot at the crowded and pitch black trailhead (and by parking spot I mean driving my car over a tree stump and wedging it in beside some logs to get it out of what passes as driveway at remote trailheads like this one). This was by far the most "rugged" trailhead I've encountered, and there was no doubt about it, I was in the wilderness. With a bunch of long-vacated cars. Not the least bit creepy, no! I finished getting my gear together, and set out on the South Climb Trail #183 around 3AM, hiking into darkness with only a towering dark spot in the sky to hint at the monster I would be attempting to conquer. Sometimes the unknown is your friend, especially when it hides the dauntingness of what lies ahead: Washington's second tallest peak, coming in at 11,276 feet (or 11,280 depending on the source), the majestic Mount Adams.

The sunrises I stay up for are the only ones I ever see!

Most people don't tackle Adams in a day (they camp part way up at "Lunch Counter"), so I knew that tackling it with zero sleep was sure to up the ante on the level of the challenge, but I wanted the summit and it was just how it was working out. Getting to this summit was a major lesson in letting go of plans and being flexible, two things I'm not the best at. I was supposed to climb on Saturday with a group, camping at the trailhead the night before and starting early but rested Saturday morning. But wicked winds at the summit forced us to cancel. Conditions were supposed to start improving early Sunday, and keep improving throughout the day, so after even more plan changes, I seized the opportunity and went... Solo. I'm a control-freak that likes everything planned out, but letting go of my plans was a good reminder of how it can let God do his work and let even better plans fall into place—in this case for next weekend, and I'm thrilled. It's awesome to see how very much God is on this crazy journey with me, and keeps me excited for the things to come. Plus this new plan? It got me my first solo summit! Climbing solo is not really a goal for me—I tend to make bad judgment calls when left alone, but seeing as how it was a non-technical climb, I chose to embrace the chance to face my insecurities and challenge myself both physically and mentally.

Working my way up... To the false summit.

The climb itself is around 7,000 feet of gain, and around 12 miles (I ended up with more of both—electing to switchback some of the slopes to conserve precious energy and with a getting-myself-lost incident on the way back to the trailhead). It was a BEAST to say the least. I was feeling incredibly sick, and was battling exhaustion and the results of a poor decision to deviate from my tried-and-true fueling plan (harvest messes with my stomach and makes it hard to get/keep food down, I thought something more "appealing" tasting might help, but it left me under-fueled and unable to recover effectively. Lesson learned.) But it all gave me lots of practice in praying for God to give me the strength to keep moving when I really just wanted to curl up in a rock shelter and sleep, and makes me more able to praise Him for the gift of this summit, because I know with all certainty it was Him that kept me moving. And what a summit it was! It took a long and grueling 8.5 hours to reach it, and boy was it cold up there! And windy! The winds had mercifully been dying down, but were still plenty strong at the summit to make it very uncomfortable. I had no interest in wasting time digging out all my insulating layers and trying to stay warm, so I took in the incredible views, got a few pictures, and started the long trek back down. I did have such an amazing vantage point of Mt. Rainier from up there, oh my! Someday, that beautiful summit will be mine, and it will be another great day of praising God for all the incredible places He leads me to, and the ability to experience his creation at its most magnificent.

Lunch Counter. See all tents???

It was a long day. I had started earlier than I wanted to, sacrificing time to let the winds die down as much as possible in the hope of being off the mountain and back to Salem in time for church... I obviously wasn't planning on being that sick or getting lost and it taking 13.5 hours to get back to my car... Needless to say, I didn't make it to church and didn't get home until about 9. After washing my gear and a well-warranted shower, I was so very happy to climb into bed, and this insomniac was dead asleep within minutes of my head hitting the pillow! My alarm has never seemed as cruel as it did this morning, but it is harvest after all, and that means combining! It was so very worth it though, and I'd do it again. Just maybe not in one day. And not without sleep. I'm not that crazy.

Summit! The views never cease to impress me.

Other random thoughts from Mt. Adams?

1) I really wish sunscreen was more effective for me, my poor nose is not happy with this climbing-life thing.

2) I love that my car has good suspension and can tackle those rough and awful drives to trailheads on mountain roads that would make off-roaders drool.

3) Glacier sunglasses may not be the most fashionable, but oh my lands, are they amazing and worth every penny of their ridiculous price tag.

Looking down hill at an insane glissade chute

4) Glissade chutes are a great opportunity to find free gear! Like another Black Diamond Pro ice axe to add to my collection. Check that your gear is secure before sliding, people! But no worries, I made sure whoever you were honored the “Leave No Trace” rule! I'm just kind like that.

5) And on the subject of glissading... I may have forced myself to be brave and give it a go for the first time in an attempt to conserve some of my depleted energy for the descent. Glissading reminds me so much of sledding, and how much I both fear and dislike snow and going fast, and then to couple those things together... Please no! But other than accidentally stabbing myself in the leg with my ice axe in the initial freak-out, I survived unscathed! And maybe, just maybe even enjoyed myself a little!

6) I can't help but laugh at the things I'm utterly un-phased by now because of hiking. Changing my clothes in crowded trailheads? Peeing on mountains with no privacy? Even discussions about blue bags! Hiking is a funny thing and definitely breaks down all sorts of barriers, because at the end of the day, any other soul also pushing themselves along side you on that trail or climb is your friend, your ally. You're in the same boat, working toward the same goal. You don't judge or get offended by the strange—and otherwise inappropriate—things that happen on the trail. You take care of each other, root for each other, help each other—even if you don't know the other person's name. It might be lending gear, offering a snack, or just an encouraging word. I may have been climbing solo yesterday, but I by no means was climbing alone. Besides, God was with me! As He always is.

When you're lost and you finally find one of these poles... And people? You praise Jesus!

God is good. And I continue to be amazed by this incredible journey He has me on, and am anxious to see what the coming months (and years) have in store. I may have some plans in place, but am definitely going to try and be better about staying flexible and leaving plenty of room for God to do his thing and shake things up and make new ones as well! And as always, to teach me life lessons along the way.

Oh yeah. I was up there.