LIFE SUMMIT

This past weekend Josh and I, the kids and my dad went for a long weekend of camping and hiking. I always have loved the adventure of getting away, even if it’s just for a couple of nights to sleep outside on rocks and sticks. I had begged Josh for far too long to give it a shot. He had zero interest in the idea of camping and then when we started having babies and babies and babies, I lost my push for such an idea as camping.

Just recently, Josh decided to go camping. Actually, he decided to do it when my dad started taking Kaidon camping and saw how much he was enjoying it. Josh put it down as one of his New Years resolutions; that he would take us camping two times. He ended up liking it. Now, Josh has a new goal because camping, in and of itself, just isn’t exciting enough. He is determined to get all 54 fourteeners climbed by the time he is 40. That’s what had us out and living on the edge over the holiday weekend. As much as it doesn’t sound peaceful and serene to be up on a mountain with Josh, six kids and my crazy dad, it really truly is great. I had so much time to think and process, which is a hot commodity these days for me. As I hiked and hiked and hiked, I could not help but relate my life where it is now, to summiting those fourteeners.

It’s funny how prior to leaving we have all these visions of how it is going to go. We planned and talked and read about the two fourteeners we would be attempting. We were elated at the idea of getting to the top and saying we had accomplished such a feat. We knew it could get tough, but we never lacked the confidence to make it through. Just like planning for the fourteener, I had planned out my life with Josh before we even said “I do.” I had planned and talked and read everything I could on marriage and being a wife. I was elated at the idea of spending my life, forever, as a married women to the man I just adore. I knew it could get tough, but I never lacked the confidence to make it through.

As I packed up the car, kids clothes and prepared food, things weren’t as exciting as they were when we were making our big camping plans. No, but it was worth all the work knowing that we would soon be having fun and accomplishing something we had been determined to do. Same with marriage. Things weren’t always as exciting as we had envisioned when we were dating. We put in a lot of time and effort and work for our marriage, not as hard as many couples had to, but we still worked hard. It was well worth the effort because we were going to accomplish something we had dreamed about.

The drive up to Mt. Princeton and Mt. Yale was exciting and fast, we were finally going places we had only seen in books or imagined in our own minds. We were all packed up and now headed in the right direction. For so long, my life was that journey. I was having babies, adopting babies, business was great, married to my best friend and finally headed to the place I had only imagined in my mind. It was exciting to be on the journey that I had dreamed about for so long.

As we pulled up to the campsite we had researched online, passing the lake and the peaceful little cabins, we were a bit thrown off by the sign that read “campsite full.” We had to stop the car, pull to the side of the road and make a new plan. We ended up in a beautiful spot, though, much better than the crowded campsite we set out to be in. So many times in life, Josh and I have done just that. So many times we would be heading to our destination when we’d realize that maybe it wasn’t meant for us. We’d stop what we were doing, talk about and make a new plan, and most times we’d end up in a much more beautiful spot than we had originally set out for. We were, and are, good at making a new plan work.

Our first day out, we set off to find the trailhead for Mt. Princeton. We thought we knew exactly where we were going. After driving in circles for awhile, we ended up having to ask someone who had already hiked the mountain where it was at. He gave us his best recollection of how he got there. Once we got as far as he could get us, we went back over the directions from our fourteeners book, then we stopped and asked for more help. We were told to drive straight up to the top of the most terrifying road I’ve ever been on. I had to trust that Josh would navigate us safely there. Once we got as high up as I could possibly handle, we parked the cars and started walking. The unmarked trailhead went unnoticed by all nine of us and again, we ended up not really where we wanted to be but somewhere beautiful none-the-less. We snapped pictures, took a break and set off for our journey once more. When Josh and I were first married and well into our marriage, we would really think we knew where we were headed. Sometimes, we would stop and ask others who were older and wiser how to end up where they were. Sometimes we’d make it through terrifying times, where either I needed to trust Josh to get us to our destination or he needed to find the trust in me. Sometimes we would notice we were off track, other times we’d end up in a place far more beautiful than where we thought we were going and, still other times, we would stop and relish our surroundings. Always, and still today, we would forever be on our journey.

In the end of this particular day on Mt. Princeton, Josh and my dad made it to the top. I took four of six kids back down the mountain as we reached about 12,800 feet. They couldn’t go on, and I was willing to head back, walking as far away from the top to avoid having to drive on that terrible road again. We made the plan that Josh would pick us up at the bottom, or as close to the bottom as we could make it. As much as I was willing to be off that cliff, I was so glad to have seen first hand what Josh had seen. Josh was filled with pride as he met up with the rest of us at the bottom. I was filled with pride at seeing his accomplishment. Admittedly, in our life together, Josh and I have been on the edge of many cliffs. Sometimes I would back down and sometimes it was he who would back down. Both of us would gladly walk as far away just to not be on a terrible road again, but we’ve always been their to pick each other up. Just like the day on Mt. Princeton, I would not change being on this journey with Josh for the past seventeen years. I know that I have experienced first hand what he has lived until now. I know that I am at the 12,800 feet where I am having to turn back and walk away while he continues on the path. I know that eventually he will be filled with pride at his accomplishment and I will be filled with pride for him as we meet daily to share what great steps toward the summit we took.

The next day of camping we headed out for Mt. Yale. This time, we knew right where the trailhead was. This time we left earlier because we had learned from our previous experience. This time we had the plan that my dad would turn back with any of the kids who just couldn’t take another step so that Josh and I could reach the peak together. This time, the path was just as hard, the journey just as long, the unforeseen problems just as many. The difference on the day at Mt. Yale was that Josh and I finished together. We started on our path, walked over rocks and boulders, encountered storms near the top, saw the most gorgeous scenery; and we kept on hiking because we promised we would finish together. When we did finally reach the bottom, we did it hand in hand and smiled and were proud of our accomplishment. The reminder of the price we paid has been a lot of sore muscles, muscles I didn’t even know I had. Our relationship today is just like that day we hiked Mt. Yale. We easily navigate our friendship, because we know just how to do it. We have people surrounding us who we know we can rely on to help if we might need it. We can predict many of the rocks and even boulders that may stand in our way. Storms that we may not have known were coming could crop up. Luckily for both of us, we are determined to finish this together because we promised we would. To still complete many of our goals we set forth to complete in the very beginning of our friendship, and to be proud of our accomplishments. We will experience beautiful things in both of our lives still. I am sure we will have many sore muscles to remind us of the road we’ve traveled, but with sore muscles comes strength. We will be stronger for this journey we have traveled. Traveled together, and not stopping until we reach the end, hand in hand.