up the mountain

FOHOless 8/2. Awwww...

Well, on 8/2, I am happy to report, I climbed a mountain. I didn't get to the top, but that's okay. I climbed for about an hour, with a serious elevation gain. The picture above shows the first part of the climb. S. and I then had a picnic in a high-mountain meadow and listened to the wind blow. It was lovely, just lovely. And a serious victory for me.

There was a time, not long ago, when I didn't know if I'd ever be able to hike again. I used to be a huge hiker, especially back in the days when I lived in Montana. I hiked every weekend, often for three, four hours. Logging 15 miles was nothing. I loved the sound of my feet hitting hard, packed trail, the sun through the trees, the roar of a creek nearby. Before I left Montana, I could walk out my door and be in the Rattlesnake in minutes. Once there, I had thousands of acres to play in. I was in pretty great shape.

Now I live in a city, and have for more than 8 years. I have grown to love Denver, but there are times--like during this most recent trip to Crested Butte--when I am certain that living in a city is killing me slowly. I love my neighborhood and my neighbors, and I love the house I share with S. But I want more nature, I want more trees that haven't suffered from so much neglect, I want rivers into which I can toss stones, and aspen stands and no-so-distant views of massive peaks. I want to leave behind all this consumerism, all this waste. I would miss my friends, but these days, so many of them seem caught up in titles and promotions and money and new new new (MORE!!) and none of that speaks to my heart...sure, I have a fancy title, yeah, I make decent money but what I really really want is a little cabin by a creek where I can write and garden and raise lots of animals and watch the seasons turn then turn again. I'm not unhappy, just a little restless.

I'm also tired of explaining myself. This "condition" that I've been battling is unpredictable as weather ("flighty as a feather") and one day I'll be fine and then the next I'll spend too much time on a keyboard or I won't get enough sleep and man, do I pay for it. My energy level is better but I still tire much more quickly than I used to. And I find myself not wanting to engage with many people because they simply don't get it and really, I think deep down, they don't want to. Illness makes people uncomfortable. Plus, I happen to have a couple good friends who like to play the "I've got more health problems than you and I'm great!" card and that's just annoying. Here, let me slice a big chunk out of my thigh and bleed all over your perfectly clean floor and then you'll have to accept the fact that yes, something is wrong with me. This, of course, brings up many old old ugly issues for me...all the health stuff I dealt with as a kid, all the neglect on the part of both my parents and the medical establishment...I want to scream sometimes, rip my arm from its socket in pure frustration, dig deep into my ear canal with a sharpened screw driver and and and...we'll see if you want to continue your little game of Who Really Has Problems? Buck UP! anymore.

But really, that's not the point. The point is that I am doing my best to remain sane around this condition, and sometimes it's hard. And I don't feel like being social because I don't want to have to act like everything is hunky dory. I will answer "fine" to "how are you?" and that will be that, but inside I'm pissed that I can't be honest because no one really wants to know the whole truth. It would be so boring, and hey, isn't this supposed to be a party?

Ah, but the hike. I started there and went off again...the hike is what I am clinging to now, what I reflect on when I really start to lose my footing. I AM getting better. It's a loooooong process. I felt like a million bucks when I came down from that mountain. S. and I made a pact to return in one year's time and do the hike again, this time all the way to the top. We're going to do it, too. We are we are.