Most women feel this huge pressure to look good at all times regardless of what’s going on. This usually means we sacrifice comfort in the name of fashion. Two words: Screw that. What’s the point of suffering in the name of “looking good.” You can look great wearing something that doesn’t require pain. Tell someone who’s spent 11 straight days hiking that their shoes don’t make their legs look sexy and they are likely to tell you to “piss off.”
There is something about climbing rocks that keeps bringing me back. The challenge of facing fears never comes easily. Climbing teaches us to keep pushing back on that fear. The harder you push the more you realize what you are truly capable of.
There’s a special breed who live for dawn. While you’re asleep we tip-toe out of bed. We yearn for the unspeakable hour. A 2am wakeup call means nothing. There’s anticipation in the air when we lace up our boots by headlamp; our foggy breath obscuring our vision. A morning cup of joe high in the mountains sounds like the perfect coffee date. Nothing beats skiing a fresh line of powder shortly after sunrise. The pyramid shadow of the mountain points us to the next horizon. We live by the sun. We are dawn patrol.
Layers upon layers of endlessly steeper and higher peaks surround you. You’ve been walking for days, but each rotation of the earth is more astonishingly beautiful than the last. Every village you stop in you’re immediately treated like family. Your guide has been coming to this region for nearly 15 years, he knows everyone like a brother and you, by default, are extended family. Taking a break on the trail you share a snack with your team and a stranger. Open arms, open hearts, and breathtaking scenery. None of this would be possible without the team at Trekking Planner Nepal.
I stand there, frozen, unable to speak, pinching a ledge of rock about a knuckle deep for dear life. We had bushwhacked our way up a Castlewood Canyon to hang out on some walls and get our climb on – however at that moment it was the last thing I could bring myself to do. Half way up a route where the holds went from gentle 5.9 jugs to a grueling 5.11a. finger killers. There I was, stuck in my sick fantasy on how was I going to fall to certain death. Tears started to trickle down my face.
We’ve all been there. You’ve got this idealistic plan of spending some time out in the great outdoors. But it’s not all sunny days and easy going. Here are some short stories of what happened when things go haywire.