Happy Morning, Great Guides!
It is a gray day. I’m noticing how different my mindset and energy can be on dreary, cloudy days compared to those bright and sunny days. I mean, I get it – how fun those sunny days can be; how good the sun feels on my face.
I want to remember, though, that wonderful things can happen any day. Sometimes, it’s just a matter of the openness and energy I bring, and how well I plug into the flow, that makes the difference in what can manifest.
I can remember a magical experience I once had on a hike to the summit of Mt. Washington.
There was a stretch of years when I summited Mt. Washington in the White Mountains of New Hampshire at least once a year. On a day off in the summer, when I would have more daylight, I would rise very early and drive the more than four and a half hours from Connecticut to the trailhead. For the next seven or more hours, I would hike an almost ten mile loop up to the summit and back. Then, I would jump in my car and head back home, enjoying the physical sensation of exercise and fatigue in my body, and the views of the sunset over the mountains and hills as I drove south.
One hike I distinctly remember as a fortunate gift. The weather forecast was favorable, and the early morning clear, as I started north. As I got to the Whites, though, cloud cover increased. This is always a possibility, as the Whites, and Mt. Washington and the Presidential Range in particular, are at the confluence of three jet streams. So, clouds and storms are often produced, depending on how these streams combine and interact. In fact, statistically, Mt. Washington is under cloud cover about 55 percent of the time.
I began the climb up, and the cloud cover, if anything, seemed to get heavier. By the time I reached treeline, things were pretty socked in. This is one reason there are cairns (narrow, tall stacks of rocks) above the treeline on the trails in the Whites – because, unexpectedly and rapidly, these mountains can get fogged over, and visibility can go down to almost nothing. This leaves a hiker moving from cairn to cairn. And, that can get pretty uncomfortable, especially when you can’t even see to the next cairn.
The fog wasn’t that bad on this day, but I certainly couldn’t see beyond my immediate surroundings, let alone down below the mountain. It’s surreal, maybe like being on another planet. One feels a different sense of isolation, yet a connectedness with the mountain. I was enjoying this challenge and experience, but also regretting the spectacular views I knew I was missing.
I reached the base of the summit cone, facing the final push to the top. As I started up, I noticed a small slice of blue sky. Amazingly, during the short time it took me to gain the summit, the cloud cover burned off, and I was treated to glorious views!! I was struck by what felt like a generous gift and my good fortune.
I think about that hike from time to time. There were times during the hike up that I felt disappointment over the lack of views. I was discouraged and thought I was wasting my time. The only thing that really kept me going was the fact that I had driven for so long – I was already here; I might as well climb.
The reward I received, though, wasn’t just the outstanding views at the end. No, it was as much having the experience of challenging conditions, of the way the mountain and my orientation and perception were altered by the fog and limited visibility. It was the sense of being one man, all alone, with the tallest mountain in the Northeast.
And, it was the final gift of the sky opening up, after realizing and appreciating the rest.
I think there’s no adventure without risk. And, I don’t mean death-defying, necessarily. I mean risking getting uncomfortable, being disappointed, being wrong or failing. Facing down your doubts and fears – That’s adventure! And, sometimes you will fail. That’s when you learn your strength and resilience! Adventure is risking!
To My Spirit Guides, who adventure with me – Thank you!
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