That Mountain's Mine . . .

“Like other Mountaineers, I am often asked, “Why do you climb?”

The question is posed as if going out into the mountains is one of the most bizarre and inexplicable things men or women might do.

I think there are mountains in all of our lives. Whether we climb the earth’s highest peaks, hike in gentle hills, or explore the metaphorical ranges of the psyche, most of us are drawn by the archetypal power, beauty, and exquisite wildness of mountains. In the mountains of the world, we can venture into the wilderness, connect with nature, seek ultimate challenges or simply have a good time with friends in the outdoors.”

                                                                                       Foreword by Art Davidson for the book To The Top Of Denali by Bill Sherwonit 

Though mountaineering is not my sport of choice nor do I possess the skill sets to attain such heights, I do love to climb. Winter, spring, summer or autumn, in adverse conditions or salubrious - the mountains call to me to explore their beauty. 

After working twenty-one 12 hour days straight in Prudhoe Bay and contending with Arctic Phase conditions and dormitory style living that makes uninterrupted sleep virtually impossible, I leave the Ted Stevens International Airport with one thought on my mind; Sleep, blessed sleep. I reach my daughters home, crawl into bed and aside from my granddaughter’s Yorkiepoos alerting, on a few occasions, of potential danger, I clock in fourteen hours of blissful slumber. So on the morning of February 12th, I rise ready to venture as I poo poo my daughter’s concern I’ll not have the energy for a climb. 

With coffee in hand and our backpacks stuffed with layers of cold weather gear and a lunch we plan to enjoy when we reach the summit at 3,293 feet, my daughter and I drive to Upper Huffman Trailhead where we meet with our fellow climber. 

I start strong as we meander our way along the Upper Huffman Trail, at 11:00 am, chatting as we catch up on one another’s happenings. We connect into the Gasline Trail which spills out onto Powerline Pass. From here, we begin our ascent up Little O’Malley Peak. 

On an average day, my daughter out hikes me. Today, she seems a powerhouse of strength as she takes the mountain by force. Our companion and I soon fall behind and I in turn fall behind our companion. As I watch from below as my daughter reaches the top, I wonder if I’ll make summit before she begins her descent. Panting to catch my breath and with my heart pounding in my chest, I reach the top around 2:00 pm. 

My daughter was right, in that though I did have the heart and I did make it to the top and back down, I really did not have the energy for the climb as it took me a couple of days to recover from our ascent. But energized or not, I loved each painstaking step. Life somehow seems to right when I am on top of a mountain.