I have been to the mountain top

...and it was overrated. Just a pile of rocks. I guess I should have waited for a sunny day, it was too hazy to see much. But had it been sunny, I might not have kept going. I tend to get overheated.

I followed the human trail, then a deer trail or twenty, but even the deer seemed to lose purpose as they neared to top. I made my own way, determined to get to the highest point on this particular mountain. It seemed that each summit was a mirage, and I kept going higher only to find another slightly higher spot just up ahead.

Stubborn as I am, I got well past the point of returning by the way I came. I just had to reach the top, but I also had to find another way back in order to get home before nightfall. I brought no snacks or water. I was reasonably certain of my general location in relation to my house, which I probably could have seen from there if not for the trees.

I was concerned that I might not find a suitable path down the mountain, and I would wind up trudging home in the dark through poison oak, which is not easily recognizable at this time of year. I was also concerned that I might trip and injure myself and lay around on the mountain for a long time.

As I neared the top, I came across a quad trail, which I followed to its apparent end at the very pinnacle of the mountain. I looked around, but there were trees, and fog was obscuring the view, making the accomplishment somewhat anti-climatic.

I started down the other side of the hill. Forward, in the direction of home and not on any path at first, I finally reconnected with the quad trail, which was very overgrown and barely visible at that point. I followed it until it took me to the path I started out on, bypassing a large portion of it with my lengthy detour. I knew I was going to make it home.

 


I was gone about 3-1/2 hours. It took me two and a half hours to get there and only an hour to get back. Downhill is quicker, but I was also more deliberate in my pace, not wanting to be stuck out there. I may decide that this is the hill I want to die on, but I wasn't planning on doing it right then.

When I got home, my legs and hips were sore. I couldn't sleep because of the pain. I took some Ibuprofen, put ice on my left hip and finally drifted off. As always, I woke up this morning with my eyes messed up from whatever it is that happens to me when I lie down. I have less pain in my hip, but it will be there to remind me for a while. I may have to take a break from mountains unless I take the quad. The quad would solve a lot of my logistics problems.

No moral to this or any of my stories. Just relating the experience to no one in in particular.