Posts Tagged ‘nancy Montier’

“The hills are alive, with the sound of music.” (from The Sound of Music).
“For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.“   Isaiah 55:12

Surprisingly warm for the mountains, day dawns in our campground.   Today we climb Flattop Mtn. – 12,200 feet above sea level and an altitude change of 2000 feet over 4.5 miles.  Packing sandwiches, snacks, and water is quick as we need an early start to hightail it off the peak before the afternoon thunderstorms hit.  My two teenage nieces had a dream to conquer a peak this year.  Boots, socks, packs, binoculars and cameras all strapped, tied, pulled or slung onto shoulders or feet (appropriately).  We stride out of the campground and hit the trail by 8:40.

My niece, Julie (not her real name) has been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder.  I have very little idea what it’s like inside her mind and body, but outside it can show up as not focused, excessive worry about future or past events while trying to do a task, and heavy thoughts making heavy, slow footsteps.  Whatever it was, we knew her pace would keep us below timberline all day.  After the first half mile I took her hand and said, “You’ve got your rhythm, and it won’t get you up the mountain today.  How about trying another one?  Let’s sing, and you match my rhythm.”  She readily agreed (she’s wonderful about receiving support).  We sang and danced, “I’ve got rhythm, I’ve got music,   “I’ve got hiking boots,  Who could ask for anything more?”  My brother was a fierce timekeeper and held the stops to just a few.  After a while Julie said she could do it on her own and she spent the next half hour in her new energetic, steady rhythm.  She took hold of my hand again when she needed it and leaned into that mountain.

At about noon we emerge above timberline.  And oh, oh, oh, there are amazing stalks of pink elephant-head flowers blowing in the breeze; red and yellow Indian paintbrush, little purple moss campion hugging the lichen-speckled granite to avoid the wind.  Grey and brown furry pikas, the size of large guinea pigs, disappear with a warning squeak as we move past in our little rhythm dance.  On distant rocks in their shiny brown and black coats sit imperturbable marmots.  The tundra is an explosion of color, of tiny plants, of adaptation to cold and wind, and rocks, rocks, rocks!  Mountains, valleys, lakes, streams nearly shout with their crisp edges and vivid shapes.  Many groups that passed us earlier are marching down, because thunderclouds are building.

By 1:30 we reach the top!  My two nieces have conquered their first mountain!  We flop down in the tremendous wind and devour the best sandwiches the world has ever tasted. The mountain decides that’s enough and throws a hailstorm at us and we scramble into ponchos that flutter like flags.  We begin the climb down.  I hear Julie tell her dad as we keep an eye on the lighting moving across the valley, “You know my disease – that schizo affective thing?  I conquered it today!”  She paused and added, “I can do my homework now.”

ACTION
What’s your mountain today?  Tomorrow?  Next week?  What’s the one that might take 10 years to climb?  What’s the first step?  Who or what is stopping you?  Take action this week to start on the mountain you most want to climb. Celebrate the mountains you’ve conquered. Find the people and resources that will help keep you in the game!  And remember you are likely keeping someone in the game, too.

Peace,

Nancy