Lessons Along the Trail

The alarm goes off at 4 a.m., but nobody moves. There’s good reason, as the temperature during the night has fallen to a brisk 12 degrees. Yet, in order for the day to begin, and success to have a chance, the zipper to the sleeping bag must open, and one must embrace the cold in order to win the prize. It’s not surprising that only a select few ever achieve great success, because so many are held at bay because of their dislikes. The prize is out of reach, because we are unable to put our dislikes into submission to accomplish our mission.

Having summoned the will power to engage the cold, you move quickly to get dressed and prepare breakfast. Water runs down the rocks and is freezing cold, and seems like it takes forever to heat, especially at this altitude. After a hot cup of coffee and some breakfast, we discuss the game plan for the day. Everyone has an opinion, and a different tactic and speed with which to achieve the prize, yet the prize is still the same in the end. The Greenhorn listens intently, but it’s all theory to him, and won’t matter much until he’s tested theory against reality. And, there’s nothing that will speed up his cycle, just the experience of success and failure. Soon, reality will prove theory to the Greenhorn, where “keeping elevation” sustains you in the days ahead, where “heel-first” keeps the prize close, where “moist-green” is much better than “hard-black,” and where “swift-running” serves better than “still-stagnant.” We were all there once, I’m just glad it’s his turn now.

The preparation begins first with the right amount of clothing, then added to that is the gear, some go overboard, some under, but only the learned knows just what they need, and how much. Ounces matter, but the Greenhorn isn’t aware. The watching of videos has given way to shopping trips for extra pounds worth of the new gadgets and toys. One reality is certain, nobody knows what is in store for them in the hours or days to come. The learned will likely play the odds knowing from experience what probably will happen, and more importantly, what probably won’t. The Greenhorn prepares for every type of event, and without knowing, likely spells disaster in the process.

Timing is everything, as it can make or break the chance for success. Too early, and you sit in the dark while your body temperature plummets. Too late and you just simply miss the action, adding more mileage to your plight, making it more difficult to get the prize, if ever. Mis-judge timing, and you certainly receive one outcome, “an education.”

In this world, darkness always combats. We hit the trailhead early, while the sun is beyond the eastern sky without even a glimmer of light. Even with the moonlight, the woods are deep and dark, too dark to navigate without help. You see, we’re not equipped to travel in the darkness because of our limitations, we just can’t see. So, we adapt to our inadequacy with gear, headlamps that light our way. We have several miles to travel in the dark, and need something to light our path. Otherwise, we wander aimlessly through the darkness, unsuccessful at finding our way, and unsuccessful at winning the prize.

But daily, life has a way of waking up late, shuttering at the cold, grumbling at the trail, ill-equipped to handle the darkness, and failing to set-up life to achieve desirable results! If that’s where you find yourself, perhaps surrounded by a concrete jungle, where all you see are shades of gray, then here are my suggestions. Throw on a pack and make it heavy such that you sense the weight of your needs. Carry extra for the person behind you so you realize the burden of someone else’s need. Enter the trail early while darkness looms, to acknowledge your dependence on a light to guide your path. Hike long and hard, beyond your perceived limits, so in the end, growth happens. And, should you trip and face-plant into the trail, smile big, and thank God for the taste of dirt in your mouth and for the scar that will be left by the gash. For, in the years to come, age and wrinkles will not extinguish the memories of the blood that was shed on that day.

Finally, for those of you who are still thinking, “What’s the big deal, he’s just talking about walking up a trail in the dark?” I say to you on my way out the door, “Stay in bed. The weather forecast looks cloudy with a chance of a dull, tasteless existence.” For those few who are already sipping coffee by the front door, I say "Saddle up!"