...because up there I find consolation
up there I find peace
up there I find comfort
and only up there can I truly find satisfaction...
by: my8teen
I remember my first trek four years ago, more or less. It was Mt. Maculot in Cuenca, Batangas. An indeed difficult climb for me being my first adventure into the outdoors though, I was a Girl Scout in my elementary and high school days and had been hiking during every camping, but it was really a different experience trekking on the wilderness. Well, I wasn't what you would call physically active; in fact I'm not engaged in any sports. The best word that could describe me was "flimsy". The mere thought that I would take up mountaineering as a hobby would send anyone into raising an eyebrow. I was dead tired by the time we reached the campsite, but even before the scenic view captivated me, I knew that this was something I would want to do more often. And of course, that was the start.
Every climb, new experiences, every experiences worth to cherish. I never knew sardines and corned beef could taste so good. I even contemplate why I should be eating with my bare hands in a casserole cover, sitting on my sandals over the grass under the stars with only a flicker of a lamp as our light when I can comfortably eat in a big plate at a nice table with complete settings at home?! And when it was time to lights off, pushed myself in a small tent good for two people but actually we were four inside. It was indeed a new experience, having to share a sleeping place with somebody. I was used to sleeping alone in my bed but what the heck! that's the rule, I can't be choosy should I? (Unless I brought my own tent with me but it would be burden to carry it up). Anyway, we were lucky it only rained moderately (if you can call it as that when all night long the tent was as if being carried away by the wind) and had stopped before we were all soaked wet (I think the tent needs new water proofing or perhaps a replacement?! just kidding S' Jobert!) but glad that the tent survived standing uptight while the "Bobcat" didn't made it. It was that fun-filled weekend, which changed my outlook in life. That climb, more that any, had awakened in me the outdoors spirit that was all this time, wanting to get out.
I remember the stories we were told of other mountains many times more magnificent. Mountains as far as eyes could see, towering above the clouds like you have a glimpse of heaven. With these came horror of multi-day ascends lasting for hours and hours a day. The picture of a backpack almost ripping from the weight of its contents. Temperature reaching below zero. The mountains I have conquered were many times easier compared to those giants. I told myself I would never reach those places for they are double difficult than those I had attained. As I looked around 360 degrees from the peak of every mountain I had been to, I can't help but wonder what it was that helped me get this far. To go to a place not all have the privilage to achieve. I saw my gear cluttered around and remember how much they cost. I had spent a small fortune on them but they were worth it. But that wasn't what helped me get here. It was my friends, my extended family. People whom I entrust my dinner, my gear, and most especially my LIFE. Without them, I would never have reached this far. Encouragement and support where among the best things that I have through them. I recall one climb where I suffered from a slight ankle sprain, they were all worried asking me if I was in deep pain and offered reassurance that I can make it, that they were there in case I need help and even brought my backpack so that I could walk in ease. With them I felt like a princess among her clique.
I am still flimsy, I walk around in the mall and people won't even notice me. I take secret pride in knowing how far I have come and that there was no limit to where I could go with proper training and people like these to help me get there. I didn't care if I had to eat sardines and corned beef all over again and still don't care if I had to sleep without any cushion or even eat under the stars as long as there is a mountain to conquer and friends to join me, I'll continue my quest. I sometimes can't help but grin a little everytime somebody will ask what my hobby is and I will proudly say mountain climbing then I'll saw his or her face entralled. For how could a lady who looks like she can barely lift her backpack, took up a hobby reserved for the physique? My answer is simple. "You don't conquer a mountain, you conquer yourself and with friends it's a lot easier".
As I finished reminiscing my past adventures, my mom called me to eat breakfast. "Gosh I hate beef" I told myself as I take a spoonful of corned beef with a smile on my face.