Flashback
or Remember when...
It was a pretty warm day last summer as we walked along the trails in Shades, only a few hours before the rainstorm that would leave us running breathlessly and cursing all the way back to the tent. The sun was still shining at this point, actually. I still remember seeing the sun on the mud that was right in front of my face after I slid down the hill. Damn it all to Hell, but Heaton and I just HAD to make it up the side of the ravine. The slope was definitely more than a 45* angle, and when then ground beneath your feet is clay/mud that is constantly being moistened by water seeping through cracks in the rocks over your head, the climb becomes quite the challenge.
That didn't stop us from tearing the crap out of that slope, though. We struggled through the jewelweed plants, reaching for rocks and roots and anything that looked like it could hold any weight. Heaton beat me by a long ways. Over and over, the rocks under my feet became the rocks rolling down the hill with me close behind. Sarah was at the bottom begging me to give up while Heaton was at the top trying to point out the next best path up.
I don't remember how long it took me to finally get up there. I do know that the pair of shorts I wore still have orange/brown smears on them from all of the sliding. And I do know that I washed a lot of mud out of cuts in my arms, hands, legs, and stomach when we got to the next waterfall. I'm also pretty sure that we left a bare swath of ground behind us on the way up. To top it all off, the view at the top was merely beautiful. Nothing remarkable or stunning as we had thought there might be. After all of that, the thing I remember with the happiest feeling was that damned climb.
There was definitely a lesson to that climb (besides "Wear pants"), one that Aerosmith tried to teach us when we were too young to understand it. It's easy to get caught up in a goal, I guess. Sometimes I just have to remember to roll around in the mud and laugh a little bit.
or Remember when...
It was a pretty warm day last summer as we walked along the trails in Shades, only a few hours before the rainstorm that would leave us running breathlessly and cursing all the way back to the tent. The sun was still shining at this point, actually. I still remember seeing the sun on the mud that was right in front of my face after I slid down the hill. Damn it all to Hell, but Heaton and I just HAD to make it up the side of the ravine. The slope was definitely more than a 45* angle, and when then ground beneath your feet is clay/mud that is constantly being moistened by water seeping through cracks in the rocks over your head, the climb becomes quite the challenge.
That didn't stop us from tearing the crap out of that slope, though. We struggled through the jewelweed plants, reaching for rocks and roots and anything that looked like it could hold any weight. Heaton beat me by a long ways. Over and over, the rocks under my feet became the rocks rolling down the hill with me close behind. Sarah was at the bottom begging me to give up while Heaton was at the top trying to point out the next best path up.
I don't remember how long it took me to finally get up there. I do know that the pair of shorts I wore still have orange/brown smears on them from all of the sliding. And I do know that I washed a lot of mud out of cuts in my arms, hands, legs, and stomach when we got to the next waterfall. I'm also pretty sure that we left a bare swath of ground behind us on the way up. To top it all off, the view at the top was merely beautiful. Nothing remarkable or stunning as we had thought there might be. After all of that, the thing I remember with the happiest feeling was that damned climb.
There was definitely a lesson to that climb (besides "Wear pants"), one that Aerosmith tried to teach us when we were too young to understand it. It's easy to get caught up in a goal, I guess. Sometimes I just have to remember to roll around in the mud and laugh a little bit.
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