My First Summit
Do you remember the girl you were on your very first summit? Eager and wide eyed and frustrated and captivated all in one. Remember the voice that said, "there's no way my body is gonna make it", as you took one small step at a time up that mountain? Remember the self doubt and negative self talk? Remember how often you thought about giving up?
I hope you carry her with you on every summit.
I hope her voice stays in the back of your mind. Reminding you of how far you've come. Reminding you of how courageous you've been.
I hope she keeps you humble and patient. I hope her voice keeps you grounded, even as you chase summit after summit with your head in the clouds. I hope she is proof that these legs are capable of so much more than sea level. That this body is stronger and more resilient then you'd ever believe.
I hope you still remember the way she saw the world; fresh and wide eyed, with the kind of awe that takes your breath away and brings you to your knees. I hope she reminds you that this world is so big and magnificent and I hope she makes you remember how small you truly are.
But I hope, more than anything, you never forget the smile on her face, the curiosity in her eyes, and the wildness sparked in her heart.
She is the girl who started it all.
The first "real" hike I ever did was Half Dome. My boyfriend at the time had gone on a trip to Yosemite without me and when I saw the photos I was honestly pissed that he'd left me behind. He told me he'd take me to Yosemite, but if we were going, I had to hike Half Dome with him.
I really had no idea what it meant or felt like to hike 16 miles to climb up a giant dome with a 2,000-4,000 foot drop on either side, but I over eagerly said yes anyway.
Yosemite is pure magic. I have no idea how you could leave that park without a newfound love affair with the outdoors. I remember feeling so small among the giant trees and even grander cathedral walls of the valley. There was this sense of adventure in the park. It was begging for exploration, quietly demanded awestruck, and invigorated this child-like sense of wonder in me.
We spent our first day in the park roaming the valley, and hanging out in Camp 4, the only walk up campsite in Yosemite. I remember seeing this giant rock and thinking,"wow, that's pretty" immediately followed by, "what do you mean that's Half Dome?" when my boyfriend identified it as our hike for the next day.
I remember having nothing but bad dreams that night.
Full 27 hours kind of style...
Me getting lost on the trail...
Me falling off that rock...
Me getting eaten by a bear before I even got to that rock...
Me getting struck by lightening on that rock...
So when my alarm went off in the early morning, I thought "hmm maybe not".
But my boyfriend was already getting ready and the early morning chatter of Camp 4 was luring me out of my tent.
I stepped out of my tent to see people already awake before the sun, lacing up their boots, grabbing their backpacks, assessing their gear, talking routes, and looking at maps. Happy. Dirty. So god damn excited.
This wasn't your typical campfire breakfasts and late day starts that I was used to from car camping. In fact, most of the campers at Camp 4 were clearing out by the 7 a.m. bus, eagerly and confidently walking towards all kinds of adventures.
I felt slightly out of place and a little intimidated, but I was desperate to be a part of it.
So I laced up my beat up Nike tennis shoes, filled up my plastic water bottles, and threw everything into the school backpack I was borrowing from my boyfriend. I tied a handkerchief around my neck because I saw people doing that and I attempted to convincingly look at our trail map on the bus ride to the trail head. I was a little ball of nervous and excited energy.
The hike to Half Dome begins with a trek up the Mist Trail. It's basically a stair case to waterfall heaven.
With every step, it felt impossible not to fall in love with the wilderness around me. I was running on half adrenaline, half "I have to impress my boyfriend", but with full heart and wonder at what else was ahead. I was awestruck and invigorated. I ran through waterfall mist and up these granite staircases. I saw deer in the meadow. I stood at the top of the falls, looking back towards the valley, and thought "wow this body is capable".
I felt wild and free and happy in a way I’d never experienced before.
But I was also exhausted by mile 6.
I remember being so excited and half-running up the trail staircase, believing it was the top, only to learn about these bull shit things called "switchbacks" and thinking are you kidding there's more"?
I remember we sat down for a snack break once and I thought "I might just not ever get back up". I had blisters. I got awful leg cramps. I sat down on an ant hill during a snack break and spent the next hour shaking ants out of my pants. I tripped multiple times. I absolutely questioned myself along the way.
But then there were these moments...
Where the wilderness opened up in front of me and I understood the purest form of humility I'd ever known. There were these moments where I looked back at how far I'd come and felt thankful for my body, rather than critical. There were these moments of solitude and simultaneous connection; of paradoxical humility and empowerment.
And somewhere between those moments of struggle and strength, in between each footstep, I fell in love with the woman the wilderness affirmed in me.
When we finally got the cables at Half Dome, I had a really wonderful combination of endorphins from the last 7 miles and support from the hikers around me. I walked to the base of the cables confidently....
and only had two or three panic attacks on the way up.
The cables were crowded. People were coming down as we were going up. Some were skirting on the outside of the cables entirely, others were attempting to come down in the same little cable section as us. We often stopped entirely on the cables because someone in front of us slowed down to let someone pass. I had little faith in my upper body strength.
But when I started to panic, my boyfriend was right there telling me I was okay. So was the random stranger standing behind me. So was the guy passing me on the way down. So was the girl at the top of the cables.
When I hesitated in moving from one plank to another, people all around me started cheering me on.
That was the first time I felt it- the magic of being around people free in doing what they love, in bagging peaks and chasing waterfalls and climbing ridge lines. I felt the way that inspires you, strengthens you, energizes you.
And step by step, I continued.
The views from the top of Half Dome brought me to tears. You could see for miles and miles and miles. It is breathtaking and one of the most rewarding summits I could ever ask for.
I felt grateful for these little legs that got me there. I bathed in my own self love and sunshine and fresh mountain air. I felt serenity and peace; empowerment and humility; community and solitude. I was proud of these little legs and the miles they had conquered. I felt that "on top of the world" feeling, quite literally.
I also felt this wave of disbelief that I'd actually made it.
This is your friendly reminder that hiking is for everyone.
I wore Nikes, carried a school backpack filled with plastic water bottles, and I'd never even heard of trekking poles. I wasn't a seasoned hiker or an astounding athlete.
I was just a girl, determined to get herself to the top of a challenging climb.
I think it's important to remember we all start off inexperienced, naive, and learning. It doesn't matter if you don't have the newest or most expensive gear. It doesn't matter if you don't know everything in the beginning. It doesn't matter what you look like while doing it. It just matters that you get out there.
There have been a lot of summits between me and this trek to the top of Half Dome. I think of the woman I was on this trip often. I remind myself of the struggle and the subsequent humility that came from a difficult climb. I remind myself often of the determination it took.
More than that, I look back and think: "look how far I've come". There has been so much growth, loss, triumph, and defeat, heartbreak, and healing in the last few years. I have climbed to the tops of many more mountains. I've been humbled by them. I have explored, adventured, and become one of those people I admired in Camp 4 that first day. Importantly, I have helped many others reach their first summit. I have remembered the patience, perspective, and encouragement given to me and tried my best to pass it on to others just starting their journey.
Because the truth is, everyone starts somewhere.
*Full disclosure, I would only recommend attempting Half Dome as an inexperienced hiker if you are in relatively good shape and are with at least one other person who is familiar with back country navigation, safety, and first aid. While this was my "first summit", it was largely possible because of the guidance and encouragement from my very knowledgeable hiking partner.
If you’re planning to head out on your first hike, start off with a little research. Ensure you are carrying all 10 Essentials and gain a general understanding of Leave No Trace. If you have any questions, or if I can help you in any way, feel free to reach out! I’m here to help!
