The Cost of Mt. Baldy

File_002 (1)

This week has been an emotional one. I’ve started this blog post three times now, and the words never seem to quite make sense. I wanted to write about my experience stomping up to the summit of Mt. Baldy this weekend, the grand cycle of emotions I went through to get there, and the tears that nearly froze to my face in the frigid mountain wind. I wanted to write about the pain and injury and healing and recovery I’ve been going through. Or maybe how wiped out my obsessive goal setting has made me; and my constant creation of checklists and to-do notes. These things become words and the words don’t mesh well and I can’t even stand to read my own writing, an act that has become oddly comforting, reminding me that I can take the thoughts from my busy mind and release them, freeing them from cycling over and over in my mind, giving my attention permission to let them go.

This weekend was big. I have recognized the profound effects of supporting friendships on motivation and self-esteem; on belief in myself and the inspiration of confidence. I have recognized the profound effects of the relationship with self on the healing of the body; taking time to care for oneself, prioritizing physical and emotional needs before wants.

And I have recognized the profound effects of my relationship with nature, how it toys with my mind, taunting me deeper, and cycling my emotions. My relationship with the mountains is complicated. They call me, yet I fear them. The lure me in, then abuse me. They occupy my mind, though I oft try to set them aside. I excitedly set out to climb them, yet question my every step, only realizing the mistake was not a mistake when I finally reach a goal I never knew I had.

Mountains and I, we have a strange relationship — particularly Mt. Baldy. I hobbled onto the summit this weekend, holding back tears. Reaching the top, I could not contain myself. I sobbed. I sat and I cried tears of pent-up frustration, of joy, of relief, of disbelief. Six months ago, if you asked me if I’d ever climb up Mt. Baldy with an axe and crampons, I’d have laughed. Not only was that god-awful hill a near impossibility with the condition of my right knee, but in the snow? Six months ago a doctor told me this type of hiking was no longer an option for me. Less than three months ago another doctor told me I’d finally be able to heal again and get strong. Last Monday that doctor told me I was ready to start pushing harder. I pushed hard. Maybe too hard. Every step down to the car was excruciating. Every step down that mountain was a price paid to sit on top of it. To sit on the summit of that hill was costly. And yet I continue to pay, again and again. I’ll get stronger. I’ll keep pushing. It will get easier. But there will always be bigger mountains to climb. And there will always be a price. And I will always be willing to pay. 

Empty the Cup, Make Room

jtree-030417-1-of-7

Being injured is taking a giant emotional toll on me. I’ve been up and down daily. I am missing my connection with nature, forgetting that I don’t need activities to take me outside. Today, after much wavering, after saying I’d do it before and then not doing it, I drove out to the desert just for the hell of it. I figured I had shoes to pick up from Nomad in Joshua Tree anyways, even though I can’t wear them right now. I told myself I’d take just a small walk and snap a few photos.

It’s high tourist season in jtree right now and as I ventured on, I found myself becoming more and more frustrated, wanting be away from people. I didn’t even care where. I pulled over on the road out to cottonwood, and decided to peek my head over a short hill and take a peek at Wilson Canyon. I feel like no one goes here. It’s not the picturesque boulders and Joshua trees they come to town for. It’s standard sand and rock and chaparral.

But it is so quiet. A humming bird flew by and fluttered around the bushes right at my feet. It’s calm. It’s peaceful. It’s content.

I read a note today that I wrote myself a long time ago. I reminded myself that I don’t have to do anything. I put pressure on myself, I take the fun out of things. I push myself to accomplish and I disappoint myself. I’d rather be having fun. I can have fun by relaxing, by doing what I enjoy and enjoying what I do, removing the pressure and changing the way I see need intertwined with desire.

It’s been time for me to scale back, as my knee injury has made it all too necessary to slow down. I don’t spend enough time being slow, and observing; I forget to just be.

Now that I’ve slowed down, removed distractions, I notice I can see more. I can feel more. I’m sitting here on a rock, feeling a breeze ebb and flow, noticing the direction. I can hear birds and insects, a plane above, a car nearby. I can see a splash of color on a monotone hillside, tiny plants sprouting from the earth, subtle patterns in the clouds. Sometimes we must empty out the cup a little, to just let go, to make room for more life.

jtree-030417-5-of-7

jtree-030417-4-of-7

Updates: Vanlife and Injury

I don’t seem to have a lot of words to put down right now, but I keep wanting to write as to not let things get too far away from me. I promised updates on the van and I shall deliver!

Saturday night: We are at a random campground we found driving to Lake Hemet late in the afternoon. No plan — just to get away for a while. The van door is open, we can hear a nearby creek. There are few people around, mostly in RVs dispersed over the surrounding 129 other campsites. This is our second weekend away since we installed the fan in the boat and it seemed to be working well, but has somehow developed a nasty click and a squeak. Mr. will be doing some research once home. Although, it’s been raining in torrents on and off since we installed it and no leaks.

Mr. installed another LED strip and we have additional lighting with a rudimentary swich. He’s planned out a scematic for some small can lights and a dimmer switch for the LED strips; we’ll also have dedicated USB charging ports. Eventually we’ll be adding some cabinetry, finishing closing up the walls and then I’ll hang some pretty curtains!

Back to this weekend. We had thought we’d make a better plan to get away for the holiday weekend, but the storm dubbed “Lucifer” drove us to cozy up on the couch Friday night instead of booking it up the highway. Four episodes of The Wire and as least as many cocktails drove us to sleep in and breakfast on the couch, listening to the rain, watching climbing videos and contemplating unplaned adventures.

As we are wont to do, we left the house without a clear destination, discussing options as we approached interchanges, finally settling on an area we haven’t spent much time in. We mapped to Idyllwild and seached for campgrounds that didn’t look like RV parking lots. We wound up a mountain road, the sun setting behind dramatic clouds and spooky fog, pulling up to Hurkey Creek Park. Welcome to campsite 67. Rainy, adventure bliss. The morning was misting and damp, spots of sun eventually fighting through the cloud cover, steam rising from the grass between forest groves. Surreal. 

Last weekend: We made it down the 91 freeway all the way to Corona before we even determined a direction of travel. Would we head north toward Bishop, or South toward Joshua Tree. We found ourselves in Joshua Tree at Indian Cove at about 10:30 pm on a Friday night during high climbing season. The Boat was running on fumes and we missed the last gas station. It was find a way to camp here, or back track to the nearest gas station before trekking out to BLM land. This is where we met Flo. She was one of the few still outside of her tent, there was a large parking area outside of her camp, and after tossing the responsibilty around, Mr. won the priviledge of asking if we could share. Problem solved. Flo turned out to be super cool and we are both stoked to have one more climber to call a friend.

Tonight: Home. Resting. I have read many pages about the Civil War and George Armstrong Custer, I have knit many rows of my current project, and read not nearly enough chapters for my online class. I have watched almost an entire season of Black Mirror in the last week, and am almost caught up on season 2 of the Wire. I’m tired of being on the injured list. I see the doctor tomorrow and I’m antsy beyond belief to get the green light to start getting strong again. My legs and hips ache from limited movement, and my mood is in desperate need of a bike ride. I’ve been trying to hangboard so I don’t loose my calluses and grip strength, but it’s really hard being at the gym and not being able to put on a climbing shoe. I feel weak and unstable, but I feel like I’m mending and for that, I’m excited and grateful.