facing fears with a great view

the mountains rise, ancient jagged molars. i was told, accompanied by some pointing, that we would be going to the top of one of these spires.

 the hike began promisingly. weather: perfect, spirits: high. the scenery: serene, wild, stark. as we navigated giant boulders and rocks, walking along tight outcroppings and ducking through surprising tunnels of green, i noticed that ahead, there was a major increase in both pitch and exposure. i decided to just tuck this away in the mental rolodex, and continue enjoying the lovely vigorousness of the setting and trail.

we came to the aforementioned steep pitch increase. there was a ribbon of water, which we followed high and to the left to come to a little pool filled with TADPOLES. tadpoles, dozens of them, and some crazy fly specimens straight out of doctor seuss using what appeared to be their wings to swim. we enjoyed a moment of solitude before digging into one of my worst fears ever.

now readers, most of you are aware of my three crippling phobias: HEIGHTS, clowns, and spiders. i had been aware, vaguely, on the approach that i would be experiencing some measure of height immersion. i have made recent strides with this irrational companion, riding a roller coaster ridiculously christened "the intimidator" this summer and daringly glancing over the edge atop the space needle in seattle. these are tiny steps indeed to an outsider but if you are in the panic galaxy my head becomes 10 feet off the ground, you would understand.

so, as you can gather from the pictures, things ramped up right after this sweet poolside interlude. my breathing became erratic. tears (TEARS!) formed in my eyes and my feet began bumbling on every surface. as julia would say, it was a sphincter clincher. mike stayed dutifully ahead, patiently waiting for me every five feet. it became necessary to STAND AND REACH for foot- and handholds, which was absolutely more than i could handle. i needed to take a second, and squatted on a buttress, trying to gather myself and talk through the irrationality when that most loathsome of outdoor recreationalists, a dready hippie idiot, ambled by and acted shocked at my, shall we say, discomfort. i resolved to continue, but the price was high. i was on the outskirts of a panic attack at the final push for the rest stop, atop the massively exposed pitch we had just come up.

mike was understanding. we snacked and, per usual, food allayed some of my craziness. however, it became clear that hiking up the final wash to the summit of the trail, with its exposure and the necessity of navigating back DOWN, was not going to add up to a fun day. so, after decimating potato chips and peanut butter and jelly, we turned around. the view was incredible and despite my terror on the way up, i was cool and collected on the way down. one might regard my descending technique as, well, "nontraditional".

that's right. abandoning pride, which i left at the top, i scooted on my butt almost the entirety of the way down. i saw senior citizens managing this descent upright. 

however, smiles were maintained. as we made it to the bottom of the trail, i felt that even making it as far as i did, given the magnitude of this phobia, was another minor victory.