not just a summit

The Minarets peak out of the Sierra like something in the back of my mind. Experiences I've meant to look from since a first introduction to the intense natural beauty of the East Side.


4 a.m. The two dogs I left were going to be be upset when they woke to an empty house, and pissed when I wasn't back by dinner time. I had prepped some a day earlier - and had a basic idea of where I was going and an unclear idea of how to get there. Shaking off lingering dreams, I squinted through darkness as I set off on the trail.

Jogging
A world constrained to the beam of a bouncing headlamp
& the sound of breath
Rhythm.

The hours of effort cleared my mind and I awoke from my own world to the rising sun in ours.

The energy pushed my pace past the few campsites beginning to stir.
By early morning I had outrun the mosquitoes into high country snow pack.

Though noting the speedy approach, as I worked up through snow-packed cliff bands the awareness quickly turned to the memory of an epic winter - a massive, steepening wall of snow guarded my objective - A new rhythm - wincing with each kick made to dig out steps and pausing to thaw the frozen burning of my hands. Thoughts occasionally wandered to the micro spikes - they wouldn't do much to prevent my becoming just a splash on the cliff bands below. don't slip.

I navigated across the randkluft above the base of the intended route, only to see it was full of more snow and ice. Some climbing moves lead me around the south aspect where I am turned back by the wall of snow. The same around north. Deflated, I start back down - kicking in more steps northward to a snowy descent scouted on the hike up. Upon returning to the sun-cupped comfort zone, I am greeted with a scolding.

We eat silently while looking across the vantage.
The moment fueled momentum on the run back.

Such times bring value to searching for experience and growth, not just a summit.