Overcoming Obstacles

Pine needles and underbrush crunched underfoot as I climbed uphill on the mountainside. The forest canopy acted as a strainer, blocking all but the most lucky rays of sunlight. Sweat rappelled down my face and jumped off the tip of my nose, falling to the soft earth. My body commanded me to stop, to rest, to give up. For days I had already hiked and camped among the Blue Ridge Mountains with no sense of accomplishment, and I hungered for satisfaction. Rain and constant change in elevation broke my spirit, and encouraged me to go home. I felt as if nature itself taunted me, pushing me to give up. It became my worst enemy.

We started off at a jogging pace because we wanted to familiarize ourselves with the terrain. Almost every step we took there was either large pointed rocks, thick embedded roots, or large swallowing holes. We knew we had to be as careful as possible. There were warning signs all over the path to make sure people are aware of the possible dangers, but that never made us think to stop. Every one fourth of a mile there was a sign that told you how close you were to the top, so once we made it to the halfway point we decided to take a break. There was not much talking between both of us, our time was spent drinking water and preparing for the final stretch of the trail. After I was rested, I asked my brother what time we were at. He checked his phone and we were at 18 minutes. I thought to myself, It only took us 18 minutes to reach halfway up the mountain, and I think I did not push myself as hard as I could go. I turned to Cayden with a gigantic grin and said,”Want to finish before 30 minutes?” Judging by his body language, I could tell that he was exhausted. The higher elevation must be having an effect on his breathing. Out of nowhere, however, he put away his water and his

The final thing I did to prepare for the climb of Leatherman Peak, was to mentally ready myself for the hardships I was going to endure. The mountain brought up many things, like rocks and roots in the trail, thoughts like the top will never come, and the mountain is sucking out my life source one deadly step at a time. By being mentally secure, I have found that these rocks in life crumble to pebbles and vanish into dust. But I must endure these events because, as Muhammad Ali stated, “It isn’t the mountain ahead that wears you out, it is the pebble in your

Not used to uneven terrain, I wore myself out relatively early compared to my partners, who were generally in much better shape than me. I grew more and more frustrated and joked less and less during the climb. The ascent to the first peak seemed never-ending; the peak was forever out of reach and there was always more mountain to climb after each ledge overcome. I increased my pace as the trees gave way to stunted trees, which gave way to shrubs. I was near the peak, and it was about time. The wind gradually made itself known after we passed the trees obstructing it. The humid mountain breeze caressed my sweaty face and exhilarated me. One more rope climb and we arrived at the top of the first

Accomplishment surges through my heated body, calves burning, as the last few steps are taken. As the mountain inclines, the vibrant green trees and grass are replaced with luxurious ruby rock that looks as though it is bleeding from its sides. The windy trail, wrapping itself around the mountain as thought it was giving a hug. The air, thin as a sheet, makes breathing a strenuous task. The trail, only wide enough for a sole body, has a sheer 5,790 foot drop from both sides. If you were to take one step left or right, you would succumb to the mighty cliffs. A long metal chain is drilled in the rock as a support, for the steep cliffs and thin trails have claimed over seven inexperienced hikers within the past few

Slipping and sliding, huffing and puffing, we pulled ourselves along with the marginal help of the surprisingly slippery cable as the loose equipment around our necks swung left and right, chafing us and feeling heavier by the minute. We fell down at the top, exhausted from the ordeal but victorious. We got there with everything we had started with and had avoided the longer, though easier, roundabout route. Success, of a sort; 'It's all downhill from here,' was a figure of speech. Actually, it was another thousand feet of elevation change in a little over half a mile on a trail that hardly deserved the

It was a sunny Colorado morning. My dad and I were taking our annual hut trip; however, we had better planning because this was our third trip. We began the morning like any other day; we got up, gathered our gear and rushed out the door, excited to start the day. As we were driving up the twisting roads in the mountains, we made a quick side stop to get some breakfast. “Do you think this will be an easy hike?” I looked at him with inquiring eyes. “This is the biggest climb we’ve done, but we know what to do this time around,” my dad said, never taking his eyes off the road.

Frightened yet determined, I slowly inched forward and followed my dad through the moguls and expert terrain along the side of the mountain, following in his exact tracks. Surprisingly, the farther down I proceeded the more I could feel my courage raging through my body. Eventually I was skiing down without any worries. As I felt the terrain flatten before my feet I realized that I had just skied the very peak of the mountain. My eyes slowly drifted up and I was overcome with the site of the mountain I had just

After what seems to be an endless amount of hiking and with sweat dripping down our faces, I am ready to reach the other peak, Castle Rock. I am tired, my body heat is rising, thirst and hunger send waves through my body, making it difficult to progress. My skis and poles are heavy and walking with my ski boots through the knee-deep snow makes it difficult to continue. I can feel bruises forming on my shoulder from the rigid bindings. The heat, even in the cold Vermont weather, fills my jacket and face. My throat is dry and I finally resort to eating some snow around me. The cold snow slides down my throat smoothly and provides a bit of relief. Hunger fills my stomach… luckily I have one pack of Skittles in my pocket. The frozen pieces of candy melt on my hot tongue in seconds. As I continue to hike, I long for the hot clam chowder in a bread bowl at the base lodge. I have no prior knowledge of this trail, I wonder if we are almost done. My dad keeps telling me that we are almost there but I have no way to tell. Every turn I

I raise to my feet and stretch out my cramped legs. I bend down to pick up my scraps and carving which I then cram into my wool coat. I latch my skis on and grab my poles. Leaning over the edge of the cliff face, I peer down and see a ten foot drop below. There is about six feet of snow, I estimate. I slide backward and push off, my body is flat and leaning forward. The wind whips through my hair and a burst of adrenaline pumps through my veins. My skis land softly on the snow and I go flying down the mountain, traversing through bushes and trees. The terrain evens out a bit and I can now see the glimmering lights of Zermatt. I turn to the left in order to follow a trail well-covered by trees. I glide, occasionally pushing with my foot, to the end of the trail, where tucked inside of a small cave, lays a tiny wooden cottage. I abruptly stop and pull off my skis. Panting, I walk over

Through all of this I got more and more tired. My helpless ankles relying on the sturdy hiking boots strapped tightly onto both of my feet, and I hope that they do not give out on while I am hundreds of feet away from the base of the mountain and the start

The road winds a few more miles till you near the lodge. Buckled down with water, a camera, and wearing the proper shoes you walk toward the trail. Something catches your eye, and with a turn of your head, there it is. The lodge overlooks the most incredible view, one that could only have been created by God. The lookout reveals mountains of trees with an unforeseeable future. After admiring the beauty, the trail calls your name. It starts out wide and covered with gravel, without a moment to think the terrain changes. You start to walk down the mountain, the gravel turned to dirt and with the help from the dew and rain it was mud, and the mountain grew a little steeper with every breath. Later, you

Despite my fear, last summer I somehow found myself climbing a mountain. Over the winter, Blue Mountain’s prime attraction is it’s steep mountains; some measured 300 metres high. They are perfect for skiing and snowboarding. However, many don’t know how over the summer, the journey up and the view at the top is amazing. At least, that is what my brother said. I wasn’t feeling excited at all. After eating our sack lunches at the base of the mountain, we decided to start climbing. The beginning wasn’t so bad because we just had to walk up. The mountain was very steep, but there was no way to fall down. The majority of my view at that point was rocks and trees that rose in a tiered manner. This continued until we reached the steepest leg of the climb. The trees cleared and there were enormous boulders stacked that stretched for what

I had never climbed anything taller than a small hill, and I thought to myself, can I climb a couple thousand feet in altitude on my own? My adrenaline kicked in about two seconds later, so that question was dismissed immediately. I was excited to climb this mountain, not only due to the biochemical rush but also because I thought that this was the perfect opportunity to prove to myself that I can do something that I have never done before on the first try.

The entire day had been a struggle as we slipped on the various rocks underneath our feet. I was part of a group of five boys and two adult leaders making our way up Mt. Phillips in northern New Mexico. Every ten minutes, our Scoutmaster, Mr. Britton, would gleefully shout, “Come on boys, just a little more climbing and we will be at the top.” I wanted to believe him, but I was running out of energy. This was the most difficult challenge I had ever faced in my seventeen years growing up. I wanted to quit, but I did not want to let Mr. Britton down. He had been a major influence in my life. He was always concerned about the boys in his troop, and more importantly, I knew he was concerned about me.