Saturday, February 26, 2011

Something about mountains.

Something that helps me feel less stressed out and like I'm about to die is talking to my friends about things that we want to do after college. Also, hearing that I'm not the only one who feels like their life is a mess with no direction comforts me. One of my best friends and I had such a conversation last night and I remembered this:

One thing that I forgot to add to my list of things I want to do (in this blog post; "In my lifetime...") is hiking the Appalachian Trail. From Georgia to Maine. The whole thing. And not in quick snatches of time, doing little bits of the trail every once in a while; I want to disappear from society for 4-6 months and hike the whole damn thing.

I feel like people wouldn't get this impression from looking at me, but I love hiking. And I don't mean just like strolling through the woods on a nice, easy sloping trail; I like hiking up mountains, scrambling up near-vertical faces, using ladders and metal rungs to climb higher and higher, walking along a sheer drop, above the treeline.

The best feeling when hiking up a long, steep trail is arriving at the top, with the world at your feet, nothing but clouds and the tips of other mountains around you. It's purely exhilarating. No matter how much you cursed yourself for choosing to hike a trail that seemed short (only a little more than a mile) but turned out to be a mile CLIMB with few to no flat stretches, once you reach the top, you forget the difficulties you faced in getting there and just appreciate the fact that you have gotten there.

My dad, cousin, and brother hiking in Maine.

Views don't get much better than this.

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