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. 

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.  

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.

Climbing Mt. Hood: Why Mountains Mean So Much To Me

“You're my cave to hide in, my cliff to climb. Be my safe leader, be my true mountain guide” 

(Psalm 31: 3-4, MSG)

A year ago, my boyfriend at the time decided to end our relationship, and my world was rocked; I had thought it was forever, and it wasn't. He had turned my life upside down by coming into it, and now it felt like the rug was being ripped out from under me, and I was lost. Absolutely and positively lost. I didn't want my old life back, but I didn't know how to find my way in a new life either. What does this have to do with climbing Mt. Hood? Or what does a breakup have anything to do with mountains in general??? Well, in the past year, the Lord has led me on an incredible journey that has given me a perspective on life that still amazes me. It hasn't always made sense, has been filled with ups and downs, pain and confusion, but also... Healing. Growing. Changing. Strengthening. Maturing. And has led me to discover mountains. And I think it's a tale worth telling, as vulnerable and hard as it is.

It's hard to think of a year ago, because it seems like a lifetime ago. A different lifetime. It's hard to remember the truth of who I was... A girl filled with so much anxiety about something as simple as going to the gas station. Grocery shopping was torture, I would literally talk myself out of buying any dairy products that happened to be in the same isle as the beer, or if I couldn't find something instantly and get the heck out of there, well I'd just have to live without it. I hated having terms applied to me, “farmer”, “cyclist”, “girlfriend”, because I didn't feel I measured up and could get rejected. Oh and the mere thought of wearing shorts... Oh. My. Goodness. Let's not even visit that mess of anxiety. And then you factored in relationship things, and I basically was just freaking out about absolutely everything all of the time. Here someone was questioning why my #1 criteria for new car shopping had to be how many miles it got per tank, or why selling my house was out of the question. And I didn't get it. Yet I thought he should get it. He should understand, and somehow make everything all better.

Do I blame him for walking away? No, I'm actually grateful. As hard as it was to accept and make sense of, I'm grateful. I was a mess. And am still a mess in a lot of ways, but I'm getting better, and wouldn't be where I am today without him walking away. So yes, as strange as it may seem, I am, and will continue to be, grateful for the heartbreak. And to be fair, I know it wasn't all on me, I think he had his own mess too—everyone does. But the thing I've learned most in the last year is that there is so much beauty in our messes, if we only choose to love ourselves in them as God loves us. And be grateful for them. But that's not always easy.

How do you love yourself when you hurt people you love? How are you supposed to be grateful when you screw up your life? When you feel like you've never done anything important? Aren't good at anything? Have nothing special to offer? When you've let God down? Feel like you're a disappointment to everyone that matters to you? How do you love yourself when you feel like a failure? I remember journaling in the midst of my breaking, and taking a picture of what I'd just written and sending it to my dear friend with something along the lines of “What the f*$# is wrong with me??? How the f*$# did I become such a f*$#ing mess? How the f*$# will I ever fix all this f*$#ing s*$# that is wrong with me????” Yeah. Fun times. Plus I used to have a swearing problem--my bad. How very much I want to go back in time and give that poor broken and lost girl a hug and tell her it's going to be okay. How I'd love to whisper in her ear the truths she so, so needed to know in order to get her head on straight, and start living life.

Many, many years ago, I was hurt by someone I had chose to place my trust in. It was at a bad time in my life, when I was sick of watching how much Christianity can hurt people I have always felt a passion for protecting, for fighting for. The ones that don't fit in, the ones that need God's love the most. The ones that Christianity likes to shun, or decide aren't worth God's love. But how could I love God and hate Christianity? So I decided to forge my own way, and go against God... So when God told me I shouldn't be with this person, well, that was all the reason I needed to be with him anyway. So when I wound up hurt? A big part of me felt like I deserved it... And being in college at the time, I heard enough stories that I knew I wasn't “special”, heck, I was “lucky” by comparison of what other girls had survived! So I just tried to carry on. To ignore it. My go-to when trying to get past things I don't want to deal with is change and distraction. So I launched myself into things I would never have seen myself doing... I joined a sorority, I chose to move to New Zealand for 4 months, I applied to be a representative for a trade convention all the way in Florida, I went on trips, got involved in a dance club at school, and just kept busy!

But then everything changed... College was over. Life began. I bought a house, and remodeled it, and got settled into working on the farm full-time, so was busy for a time. My friends had went back to their hometowns, and I found myself... alone. Years passed, and what did I have to show for it...? What had even filled those years? I was just existing. I don't remember when I finally started to “wake up” a little, if there was something that sparked it, or if I was just gradually becoming unsatisfied with merely existing, but little by little, I felt a compulsion to find my way back to "being good" with God... And little things would slip past all the walls I had built up, and find their way to my consciousness... A hike in Hawaii that is illegal but that looks beyond amazing... Oh but I could never do that, look at all those steps. This absolutely insane “hike” that goes up a granite face with only little cables preventing you from falling hundreds of feet off the cliff edge... Yeah, those people are crazy, and you could never do it anyway... As much as I tried to dismiss these things as crazy, as stupid, insane, or that I could never physically do them, I couldn't get them out of my mind. So I finally decided maybe I'd do some little hikes and see how it went... Maybe, just maybe, I could muster the courage to try...

I was watching my niece one day, and used “occupying” her as an excuse for moral support to drive up to McDowell Creek Falls for the first time and hiked the loop (after reading absolutely everything there was to find about this not even 1.5 mile loop on the internet! Because I have to over think everything and control-freak-the-heck out of everything, obviously, or it just might not be safe). And I found myself intrigued! Then I drug a friend with me... Then I went more and more, and tried out some other places and trails, sometimes even by myself, something I always swore others were moronic to do. I found myself wanting to go further, with more elevation gain, and to see new sights... I confided in my friend that I felt like I wasn't living life, that I was in a rut of just existing, and asked his help in breaking me out of it. So we committed on having an adventure each month for a year... We failed, but the adventures we did take were incredible! But just a few months into that year of adventures, when I'd taken a huge adventure to Costa Rica on my own, was feeling rather invincible, and like I'd finally figured all my “mess” out... That's when love came knocking down my door and turning my life on end. I had a false sense that I was great now! I was ready! And oh was I wrong...

It turns out I have an issue with pride. Funny, I thought that since I always thought terribly of myself, I obviously had missed the bullet on being proud! But trying to share my life with someone while needing to control-freak-the-heck out of life? Definitely destroyed the carefully (and pridefully) constructed image that my life was fine and dandy and brought all my mess to the surface... All of it. All those nasty bits you thought were hid away so deep there was zero chance they'd ever be seeing daylight again? That even you had forgotten about? Yeah, no. And then it was over, but the mess was all still there! No denying it, no ignoring it—it was all in my face demanding to be dealt with. No ability to just retreat behind my carefully constructed walls, because they'd been shattered. And I had a decision to make... I'd been fighting and fighting for years to find my way back to God in a meaningful way and making little progress. I'd been trying churches on and off, but they all reminded me of what I'd hated about the faith to start with... Yet here I was, utterly shattered and heart broken, with all this mountain of issues piled on my head, and knowing I was completely incapable of fixing any of this mess on my own. I was beyond overwhelmed, and exhausted to the point the mere thought of another day of living was almost enough to do me in. I didn't know what to do, I felt helpless. And I ended up hitting my knees in a way I'd never done before... With the full weight of conviction of how awful I'd been to God, that he owed me nothing, but recognizing for the first time how completely unable to control anything about my life I truly was. Instead, I surrendered it to the only one who could.

God was beyond good to me. He weighed things on my heart that were exactly right to steer me in the paths I needed to go... I knew I had to find a way to be grateful for the hurts and the breaking, or bitterness would consume me, and I knew a bitter person was not who I wanted to be. God led me to "stumble" upon the book Uninvited, by Lysa TerKeurst, which explained the idea of choosing gratitude over bitterness, and suggested finding “perspective changing opportunities” to help. So I started working in my town's soup kitchen—something I'd always wanted to do, but never felt like I was “good enough” to be able to. I wanted to ignore my negative feelings about myself and my problems, and instead learn to choose serving others and focusing on their needs rather than my own (less bad) problems. I barely got out the door the first night before breaking down in tears because the manager had thanked me for coming in to volunteer... Didn't he get it? Didn't he see what a mess I was?? Didn't he realize it was me that should be thanking him for letting messed-up-ol'-me come through his door??? But it got easier. And my heart grew. I found a church that preaches God's love. And my heart grew some more. Emotions came through that I'd never experienced before. It's like I was coming alive again. I was enjoying people, and could feel comfortable around them. And step by step, God was there... Directing me. Changing my heart. Showing me how to grow and heal, how to find my way to the woman he wanted me to be. I climbed South Sister on a whim, to see if I could... I went on an epic trip hiking in Utah's National Parks, climbing things like Angel's Landing and going into the backcountry of Zion to find the Subway. I fulfilled a goal for the year and climbed Mt. St. Helens. And in the midst of my adventures, I continued to seek God, to be surrendered to him, to recognize him being in charge--not me.

I was confused though. As much as I was enjoying my life, I was overwhelmed too. It felt like God kept showing me these different things I was freaking out about, and why... But the list kept growing! How was I ever going to keep myself in check on all of these things? I had figured out by this point that I'd been desperately trying to protect myself (even the swearing! Oh my...), but was shocked each time a new way was revealed and the lengths I'd gone to in order to do so. More tears and break downs, and finally another conversation with my dear saint of a friend... could it have anything to do with getting hurt previously...? To even acknowledge the idea, that it could have affected me, just made me sick, like it was giving him power over my life, but it was the only thing I could think of, there had to be a core cause. My friend thought it had, and everything just fell into place... in what felt like seconds at a computer (which I know was God directed, since I'm usually very challenged with all things techy), I had a list before me that described all my self-protection attempts to a "T". Page after page explaining everything I'd been living with for over a decade, everything God was walking me through the process of discovering... And to see it there in black and white, to have a label attached to it... The power of that hurt finally fell away, and the devil lost his grip of fear on me. And oh does it make me feel stupid at times that I never connected the dots. I like to think I'm a somewhat intelligent person, but sometimes... Not so much. I remember when my ex and I were still together, and I was trying to explain one of my freak-outs... He was goofing off and trying to tickle me or something, and the degree of terror it induced in me... Wow. But even then, in the midst of my mess and denial, I was rational enough to explain to him that things like that are hard for me to see as “fun” when I have so many memories of similar things leading to getting hurt... Goofing off turns to almost broken arms, or fingers I couldn't move for years without pain, or bruises I got to try and hide. Well intentioned “fun”, with someone who was “careless”, and it had left its scars... I had described my problem. Yet I refused to see a solution for it or the bigger impact of the situation, to see that the other “hurts” had left their scars as well, and just how much I was trying to protect myself from the world. I had failed to recognize what I'd just described is better known as PTSD.

When that piece of the puzzle fell into place, all of a sudden I could see the bigger picture perfectly clear. All of the freak-outs made sense. I could see beyond them to see the truth that was waiting beneath the surface, of what I did want out of life. I could recognize that the freak-outs were just wasted energy of trying to protect myself from the world... And how impossible a job that is. Life is messy, sure, and we'll get hurt along the way. No matter what we do, no matter how effective we are at keeping people at arm's length, or hiding behind modest clothes, of compartmentalizing what aspects of ourselves we show to others... We can't keep ourselves from getting hurt. By putting myself down constantly in my head, I wasn't changing how others saw me—just because I wasn't desirable in my own mind didn't mean no one else would find me desirable and hurt me as a result. Speaking profanely wasn't putting on a "gruff" enough of an exterior or offending people enough to keep them away (or avoiding the beer isle or gas station...) Clinging to everything that was mine with a death grip wouldn't protect me from feeling lost or worthless... Oh my. To think back on all of the ways I tried to protect myself is exhausting. And to think of how ineffective all those efforts were! I feel so full of sympathy for that poor frightened girl, because the truth was staring me in the face the whole time.

God is our healer. Our redeemer. Our protector. He is the only one that determines our worth. Our identity. Our purpose. He's the one that loves us at our worst, who promises to love us no matter how far we stray from him. He is the one that pursues us, even in our own self-inflicted darkness. He directs us, and weaves these incredible stories for our lives with all of our “messes” as his media. All of my life, I've heard these things, learned of his promises, committed verse upon verse of his word into my memory. I've loved him and felt his presence with me... Yet somehow, I never got it. When I'm weak, then I'm strong? What does that mean??? Until you've experienced it, you can only conceptualize what Paul is saying. When you've never seen how God can drag you up out of the mire you've created for yourself and felt him embrace you even in such a state, you can never fully grasp the redemptive love he has for you. Until you've felt the weight of an unbearable burden—like keeping yourself safe, keeping your life together and in control, making your way through life all on your own—all be lifted off your shoulders, you never fully grasp the freedom God offers us through salvation. I get it now. I get how we can be grateful and be filled with joy in the midst of storms, I get how we can turn to Jesus to provide strength when we're at our weakest, and how we can trust in God even when we can't see any possible way through the mess we find ourselves in. God is good. He has shown me this fact, over and over. And he kept showing me until I finally grasped the concept.

A couple of days ago, I climbed another mountain: Mt. Hood. This past year, the idea of mountains has never been far from my mind. I used to ride my bike to find peace, but this year the bike has sat idle, and my peace comes from hikes and mountains. My life has seemed like one giant mountain. One I desperately wanted God to step in and move out of the way, and which he was refusing to do so. There have been many set-backs, and times I've fallen flat on my face, and felt like a failure, and like I'd utterly lost my way. I felt like I kept climbing and climbing, just trusting that I'd some day get to a summit and finally get that downhill ease happening, and yet it was never arriving. I've worried I'd heard God wrong, and simply must be on the wrong path... Even the decision to climb Mt. Hood seemed like a mountain in and of itself. I had planned to go climb Half Dome this fall—to finally bring my journey of becoming a hiker full-circle and tackle the beast that inspired this all... And was utterly devastated when I didn't draw permits in the lottery early this spring. I tried to swallow the disappointment, and accept that Half Dome wasn't God's plan for me yet (that this didn't mean I'd never get to climb it), but it was hard.

I decided to tackle “Plan B” instead (Mt. Hood) but how? I finally had a plan in place, and it fell through... More disappointment, more feeling like a failure. And do you accept the no as being from God, or do you fight harder for it??? I scrambled to find a new plan, knowing the peak climbing window was already shut and that harvest was knocking down my door. I found a group that was going and was welcoming me with open arms, yes, finally! Okay, so it'll be slower than my ideal, but it'll get me to the summit... I'll take it! But then more things went awry—my dog ended up in the hospital hours before I needed to leave, my car was having issues and I worried wouldn't make the trip up to Timberline, I was hearing reports of very unsafe amounts of rock fall, and on and on... How many “signs” could there be to say you shouldn't be doing something? Yet I needed this summit! I needed to remember who I was—and not because an accomplishment was giving me worth, or another summit in my book gave me any sense of value, but in the bigger sense... that I'm a girl that can tackle a mountain because God is fighting with me, a girl that has worked her butt of to get to a place of confidence in who she is in God's eyes and able to dismiss what others may think of me, and a girl who can face things that would have left me shaking in my boots a year ago. A girl who is strong, brave, talented, caring, loyal, fierce, who perseveres and doesn't give up, and who loves God with a passion. Yes, I needed this summit, and felt a peace in the midst of the storm that God would give it to me. And he did.

As I walked through the darkness, focusing on just keeping my feet following the path of those in front of me, seeing only what was illuminated by my headlamp, only knowing I was gradually moving “up” to an unknown... There was such joy in my heart. All I could do was make lists of all of the incredible things about God, about his love for me. And I knew he was going to bless me with the summit. There was never a moment of doubt. When the sun started coming up, and I was facing the most difficult part of the trip, the steepness of the climb making it look impassable, the rock and ice looming overhead making it look like an accident begging to happen... yet I had no fear, only excitement--of the climb ahead and of God's amazing creation surrounding me.. There was zero room for fear. Joshua 1:9 is on my bathroom mirror, reminding me each morning that I don't need to be afraid, that I am commanded by God to be strong and courageous because he is with me. And looking at that last bit of climb, knowing full well I'm still utterly disabled by my fear of heights if I let it have any foothold in my mind... I finally got it. I don't need to be afraid. God is with me.

God works in crazy ways sometimes... sometimes it's a heartbreak, sometimes it's a mountain, sometimes it's getting groped by a homeless man (true story), but there is always beauty to be found in the messes life brings us. We just have to be open to letting God reveal it to us, to choose to be grateful even in the pit of despair, and to face the challenges with courage because we know God is fighting with us--and making us better because of them. And yeah, sometimes we fail, sometimes we get caught up in feeling sorry for ourselves and overwhelmed by the weight of what is "wrong" with our lives, but even in those moments, we have to find strength in God's truths. He loves each of us. Knows exactly what each of us need. Has a plan for each of our lives, with purposes greater than we can fathom. He is good, and he is for us. And he's got this. We just have to trust, and walk in faith. Even if it's up a mountain.

I see the world so differently than I did a year ago. Gone are the fears and need to protect myself from the world, and present is the excitement for what life has in store, of finding out what my two legs can accomplish, of making up for all of the living I've been missing out on, and to see what God continues to do in and through my life. So here's to more mountains... Preferably the rock kind, not the life kind. I like them better, and there are lots of them left on my list, with the next challenge already picked out and on the calendar! Lord willing, of course ;)