2. I won't die just because I'm gasping for air in an intense cardio workout.
3. It's the journey that counts. The destination is a bonus.
4. Living out Love...Joy...Peace...I am my full authetic self.
5. Negativity is never a good option.
6. Old patterns can be replaced with new ones.
7. It's a tough world out there so it's important to give everyone a break.
8. A deep refreshing breath can change everything.
9. 100-mile distance runners peak at 64 yrs. of age.
10. When life puts snow and icy patches on your path, be grateful because reaching the summit is all the more sweet.
Five days before my 60th birthday, I reached the summit I dreamed of this whole last year.
Cathedral Rock
I feel the earth and pine mountain in every cell of my body.
I feel the crisp blue and white sky sending honest, pure inspiration through, from head to toe.
Breathing in, I feel the health and safety of our climb.
I feel joy in the circle of family and friends.
I feel the send-off!
I feel the wonder of the climb,
our mighty muscles propelling each step,
our extraordinary balance and drive.
I feel invigorating cool breezes.
I feel humbled at the summit,
present in its place.
I feel accomplishment and satisfaction in our descent.
I feel connected,
sharing spirits,
positively mingled with a presence so much greater than any one of us,
or all of us together--
which has granted us this gift.
I feel every degree in each of our lives which led us to the climb,
every beautiful moment, up and down its paths,
and
our continued fellowship at journey's end.
Breathing in,
I feel the awe of our time together,
Releasing,
thankful.
Thank you.
Climbers--just before we started.
The Saturday morning arrives. Gathering by a statue of Ceasar--friends and family from New York, Chicago, St. Louis, Milwaukee, Phoenix--smiling, hugging, toting gear and water, walking to the vans, piling in, making adjustments, last minute glances at the directions, and we are off. Circling around to the strip, turning right on Flamingo Road, heading out of town toward the mountains, the journey has begun!
Unexpected in my year of envisioning this day, is the snow that fell in the mountains two days before. First snow of the season--three inches. Slippery conditions. Trail closed. Moving ahead with the plan, expecting the best, we are not daunted.
City turns to suburbs, Vegas sub-divisions and expressway traffic jams. Leaving it all behind, an hour later everything drops away as we turn onto Kyle Canyon Road to Mt. Charleston.
Profound quiet that only nature's display of rocky desert hills and vegetation, against a backdrop of pine covered, snow-capped mountains can bring, falls down all around us...and at the same time lifts us up from a place deep inside. These ascending moments, our ear-popping drive deep into the mountains, solidifies our bond with this adventure.
Knowing it snowed, we are prepared for cold temperatures. However, the joy of the day is enhanced by sun shining down the mountains from a very bright clear sky as we step out of the vans at the Visitor Center.
A decision must be made--opt for a dry trail on the dark side of the mountain (one with no summit or great views, but rather, a winding, horizontal trail) or, go for the original trail as planned which is completely covered with snow. After the guide explains this information, I turn to Gabrielle, Julie and Rachel, receiving an immediate, "Let's go for it!"
Back into the vans, winding up another mile, we curve around into the Mt. Charleston Lodge nestled at the base of the trails, surrounded by mountains on every side. We don't ask anymore questions. Time to contemplate is over. It's action time now.
The parking area to the closed trail is blocked off, but we park further down at another entrance. Water, hats, gloves, jackets...yes, everyone has what they need. Julie passes out Energy Goo for those who want it. Cousin Carol leans over to share with me, "You know, if we were our fathers, we would get everyone together now and say a prayer before we begin," just as I am about to gather everyone together to say a prayer!
In the cold but sunny parking area, next to the icy entrance to our trail, we stand together in a circle as I begin the same prayer I had felt for months leading up this moment:
I feel the earth and pine mountain in every cell of my body.
I feel the crisp blue and white sky sending honest, pure inspiration through, from head to toe.
......
and finish, this time experiencing the reality of this circle of friends and family about to climb together. Harold ends with a traditional prayer and the young people are off and up the trail out of sight before I can turn around!
Three of us set our own pace, taking our own time, as we start this trail at 7,600 feet elevation and climb to 9,000 feet:
Peggy--who I've been very close to since we became friends in sixth grade in 1962.
Carol--my cousin whose Mom, along with my Dad, were the youngest of the twelve Gretz siblings and shared a very close bond.
And I--who am most grateful for these relationships in my life.
We don't know how the altitude will affect us, but manage to talk the whole way! We also take time to capture moments on our cameras and cell phones, posting a few to Facebook. Carol even answers texts from her daughter regarding her upcoming wedding this New Year's Eve. After a few, I think she texts something back to the effect of, "For crying out loud, I'm climbing a mountain here!" We laugh. We stop occasionally to take a drink. We are awe-struck at the views in every direction, the autumn yellow Aspens against the dark green Pines and the mountains, at one point bend in on each other over the trail creating a thick yellow sun-glistened canapy tunnel as we climb through the snow.
Concentration is keen on each step we place down, relying on instincts to know when and where we can find a good foothold. As the incline becomes steeper, each of us wonders silently how we will possibly get back down this slippery path.
Up ahead we see my sons, Matt and Harold M. waiting for us. They've stayed at this one particular spot waiting to help us up over the icy incline. Matt hangs onto a tree, reaches down and takes Harold's hand, who reaches down and extends his other hand to Carol. He pulls her up over the ice, then does the same for me, and calls out to Matt as he reaches for Peggy, "Whatever you do, don't let go of my hand!"
Once they get us onto ground we can navigate, they're off again, up the mountain to join the other young people...
To be continued in Part 2
Palmer’s Chipmunks live only on Mount Charleston in the Spring Mountains, west of Las Vegas. They currently have protection under the Spring Mountain Conservation act in Nevada.
We met this one at the summit!
