How I
Became a Mountaineer
As a kid, I visited my Aunt Anna, or as I used to call her, Aunt Danna, in upstate New Paltz, New York many times. My aunt Anna was an elderly woman with a soft, fair complexion, clear blue eyes, and light brown wavy hair. In contrast to her beautiful appearance were her dark, strong hands that showed many years of hard work and constant struggle. In my childhood years, her house was much more than just a house to me. It was a place where I could go exploring and adventuring whenever visited her. Of course, she also did not have just an ordinary house. She lived on a forty-two acre farm in a large farmhouse and had two other large red barns on her property. Although the barns never held animals while she lived there, they did hold many other treasures and years of surprises and adventures for me. It was in New Paltz that I originally discovered my love for the outdoors and nature, a love that still exists within me today.
Some of my most cherished memories are of the days that I spent their as a kid. My mom, my brother, and I would go up there a few times a year to visit her and to play on her farm. The days we spent there were always filled with adventure and discovery as we explored her barn, went hiking in the forest that surrounded her property, and played in her fields. Every morning she would come upstairs to the room that my brother and I slept in and she would wake us up with a gentle “good morning.” Each day, she would have something different and exciting planned for us. I remember one day when she took me to the back of the old barn where she had a supply of old wood and many tools, as her husband had been a master carpenter unprofessionally but had died years before. After searching the dust and spider web covered room for a few minutes, I came out with various sized and shaped pieces of wood. For the remainder of the morning, my Aunt and I constructed a small raft out of the wood. After the raft was complete and the glue was dry, she took me down to her small winding brook that penetrated the forest. Delighted that the little wooden boat actually floated, she and I traveled alongside the bank of the stream as the slow-paced current carried the boat downstream. Along the way she pointed out various plants, flowers, and animals that we encountered, telling me about each one and even picking some plants that were edible. The expeditions that we went on together, which I loved so much, helped to spark my early love of the outdoors.
She brought me on frequent trips to the Mohonk Mountain Preserve, only a short drive away from her house. I remember going there for the first time as a young kid and hearing all about the “scrambler.” Upon asking my aunt what exactly the scrambler was, she said, “It is a rock scramble that is very dangerous and only older people can do it.” Disappointed that I could not do it but intrigued by its dangers and challenges, I swore to myself that I would eventually conquer it when I was older. Because I could not attempt the scrambler, my Aunt took me on a hike up to the huge stone fortress, Skytop. After what seemed like a long, grueling hike to my young body, we finally made it to the base of the stone tower at the top of the mountain. Eager to reach the top, I dashed off and started climbing the many stairs to the summit of the tower. Upon reaching the top, I was met with a powerful gust of wind as I emerged from the stairwell. Looking over the edge at the surrounding area, a feeling of accomplishment and glee overtook me as I gazed off into the distance. Standing there, I felt as free as an eagle soaring over the mountainside. My Aunt, who had caught up to me by that point, pointed out her house, which seemed far off in the distance below us and I was truly amazed how far we had come.
Years later, when I returned to Mohonk after not being there for a few years, I realized that I was finally old enough to attempt the scrambler, a challenge I had been looking forward to since my first visit there. I begged my aunt to come with me since it was she who had first brought me there but she replied that she could not attempt it in her old age. Heartbroken that she could not come with me, I promised her that I would take a picture from the top for her. After an exhilarating climb, which was filled with the danger of many steep drop-offs and cliffs, I finally made it to the top. Just as I had years before when I first reached the summit of Skytop, I was overtaken by a feeling joy of and triumph. As I gazed down at the surrounding landscape, I thought of my aunt and like I had promised, I took a picture for her.
By exposing me to the beauty of nature and the wilderness
at a young age, my aunt had made a lasting impact on my life. Now, over twelve
years after first experiencing the wonders of the outdoors in New Paltz with my
Aunt, I still have a deep love for the outdoors and a desire to explore. To
satisfy this desire, I took part in an Outward Bound mountaineering course this
past summer in