UP+DOWN= Day 2

Up is the word of the day on day two. Up is all that anyone really needs to know, except what goes Up must go Down. And Down and Down. And rain jacket on and rain jacket off. And cramp in my leg and cramp in my neck. And who built this friggin' path anyway?

Did I mention my hiking buddy was my older sister Molly? Whose legs reach somewhere around the middle of my ribcage. Whose main idea of fun is to spend hours and hours running along narrow paths fixed to mountainsides. Did I tell you about how she wanted to TIME our hike to the top? Now you know.

However since I was a kid I have had this nattering in my head that insists anything she can do I can do better... or at least DO. First it was tying my shoes and dressing my self, and now it is climbing 900 metres at her set pace. Maybe I'm a masochist?

They called us energizer bunnies

"Every 20mins we need water and a nibble of protein bar," those were long legs words of encouragement when the trail seemed like an unceasing aisle of Upness.

Ah the twenty minute segments... how I loved the moment her watch would beep, and she would thrust her water valve towards me and a piece of dried up fruit and nut bar. Heaven is in that moment... HEAVEN.

Minutes 1 through 20, were focused on breathing, lifting right leg, and then left. Inhale Exhale. Steady now. Find the rhythm. Inhale Exhale. And before long another 20 minutes would pass and I would blink to find a water valve in my face.

Up, Down and a few ruins

As we inched our way along the path, one foot in front of the other, I started thinking about how the uphill hiking was like yoga, which in turn always comes around to Life. It's easy to love something when it's all bubbles and fluff but, it's a bit more challenging to find the joy in the muddy, rainy shit show.

Then the top came into view... barely visible but still very much there. Inhale Exhale. Right then Left. Water, fruity nut bar thing. Inhale, Right Exhale Left...

TOP. Breathe. 900 meters of uphill looks high from up top Dead Woman's Pass, 4315 meters above sea level. And when my mom stepped up to the top I got all choked up and blamed it on the altitude, like I blame my angry outbursts on PMS.

Atop Dead Woman's pass

The trail slid down the mountainside for 400 meters and we stumbled after it. Up it went for a second time, but in a kinder, somewhat gentler way, gentler compared only to the previous pass. And then, our tents were there and the hardest day done and we had all survived. No dead women to report. A good day overall.

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