Climbing a Mountain

Aaron and I went hiking yesterday. I love the outdoors, and little in this world makes me as happy as being outside. We bought this book a while back that lists out all the mountains in NH, as I want to hike them all (big dreams, I know). Yesterday, it was our goal to scratch another mountain off my list. Mount Cardigan (the east-side loop) in Alexandria NH. The book listed it as a "7" out of "1o" in terms of difficulty. Recently, we did Mt. Osceola, a "9", so I had no worries that we could easily navigate this. Let me tell you, I am so sore this morning that I can barely move! It started off nicely, but then it was so difficult I wanted to turn back. Of course I never let myself say that out loud because rarely do I quit anything, but I sure wanted to. Much of the way to the top was scaling rocks... basically like spider-man. Every muscle in my body ached, my mind remembering the trail marker pointing to the "easier route" that we, of course, decided not to take. We made it to the top.


Once at the top exhausted, hungry, and sweaty we looked at the views and enjoyed the surroundings. Lucky for us we were able to witness some college fraternity pledging the incoming freshman, and we embarked upon a deep sociological conversation about rites of passage and other ritualistic atrocities. Needless to say we got a good laugh at some poor freshman pledge's expense. We settled at the summit for over an hour, had a snack, and revived ourselves before we made the hike back down


It's hard to put into words what I love about hiking so much. I love being frustrated and unsure whether or not I can do something. I love pushing myself mentally and physically to the brink of exhaustion. Even more than that, I love proving to myself that I can do anything, anything I want. Even though I don't always take the easy route, I can make it to the top, and be proud of myself when I pushed through the pain, and conquered what I thought I couldn't.