Climbing
CLIMBING
I remember reading a statement in the book, INTO THIN AIR by Jon Krakauer, that a person doesn’t really climb to the top of a mountain, till they are safely back down. It was something I would tell myself repeatedly, when I climbed my own personal version of Everest.
Several years ago, upon a ridiculous whim, I decided to climb to the top of Rocky Mountain National Park. No, not to the last place where cars can go, by the visitors center at around 11,000 feet, but the rest of the way up to the sign that says 12,005 feet. Yes, 12,005 feet. Ah, what’s a teeny little thousand feet?
I guess I need to explain a bit about why climbing the last thousand feet was quite an adventure for me. I was born with something called Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis, JRA. This is an auto-immune disease, something like adult RA but completely different. It does the obvious, affects and damages the joints, but it can also affect the optic nerve, the hearing, the heart, lungs, kidney and liver. There are various forms of it, from simple, affecting one joint and going away after a few years, to affecting all joints and other parts of the body and never really going away. Naturally, I have that last variety, the kind that affects all my joints and did damage my optic nerve. I had terrific parents and doctors as a child, and they taught me how to live with the disease, so that today, at age 52, though it was against all the odds, I am still pretty mobile, still walking on my own, still able to use my hands and arms almost normally. I do have a lot of damage and limited motion in my joints, as well as having a fused knee, an artificial knee and two artificial hips. Oh yeah, and I’m totally blind as well.
But this story isn’t about the JRA, except that the climb was something I shouldn’t have been able to do and probably shouldn’t have done, so I had to explain! My last orthopedic surgeon would probably have choked if he saw me climbing up that mountain.
I was with a group of friends; we were taking a friend from out of state to the park, and everyone decided they wanted to climb up to the top. Somehow, I didn’t want to hang out in the visitors center, shopping and eating, all by myself. God knows what I might have bought if I’d been left in the gift shop, up to my own devices! It was a beautiful sunny day, a light breeze blowing, and I longed to be outside and on the trail. It isn’t even normal for me to want that kind of thing. I’m a City Girl at heart, and I prefer to hike a city block, to make my way courageously through malls, fighting off racks of clothes, definitely not usually the outdoorsy type. But there’s something about the mountains here; they can just kinda call to you, urging you to come ahead and revel in them. After all, my biological mother was a farmer’s daughter, so love of the outdoors is somewhere in my blood, well hidden perhaps, but there, somewhere! On this day, I couldn’t resist the call of the mountain and decided to give it a try. Maybe it was all those books about Everest I’d been reading?
I told my friend Dan that I’d like to try the climb, if he’d help me. He was the only sighted male with us, his wife Joylene dealing with their kids, and I knew I couldn’t do this without help. He didn’t mind helping me. I grabbed my guide dog, Bianca’s leash in my left hand, took Dan’s arm with the other hand, and off we went. As we began our journey, I reminded myself of Krakauer’s line about getting safely down, and felt a qualm, wondering if I got up, would I be able to get back down? I hoped I would not suffer the indignity of having to be carried down! I don’t think I could have survived the embarrassment!
We took it slow and carefully. This was no city street, not even a paved path. It was a mountain trail, dirt, rocks, steep incline. There were many places where logs had been sunk into the mountain to help protect against erosion, so we had to climb up very big step like inclines. They were hard for me. With one knee not bending, and the other knee not having full range of motion, sometimes I wondered if I could get up that damn step. Dan ended up being more than just a guide, because he often had to help me get up that step and acted as a balance, with me clinging on as hard as I could with both hands, Bianca’s leash looped over my arm, so I could grasp frantically with both hands. Dan did not falter and never lost patience with me.
Other climbers streamed past us. I marveled at the kids, practically leaping up the mountain, as if they’d been born doing it. Old people, young people, people speaking every imaginable language, all eager to climb up and take their pictures by the sign. Occasionally a ranger would pass us and start to make a comment when they saw Bianca, till they saw her harness. No dogs but service dogs allowed there.
After the first few “steps” I began to wonder why I was doing this and to consider turning around before it was too late.
What the hell am I doing, I mused. Trudging up a mountain side for the hell of it! Sherry, this is not like walking to the nearest Starbucks, hiking through a mall looking for Nordstrom, or just climbing a flight of stairs. Girl, you are an idiot. Get your butt off the mountain! Remember, you’ve got to get back down, so if you go all the way up, …
But I didn’t want to quit, couldn’t quit. I am just too stubborn to quit once I start something, especially if it’s important to me, but hard to accomplish. I just must keep going! I knew I’d pay for it physically, but I had to go on.
The mountain began to work its magic on me. The air smelled amazing. I suppose it’s somewhat of a cliché to say it smelled clean and fresh, but for this city girl’s nose, there was nothing like it. Motor vehicles didn’t go here. There were no factories spewing foul odors into the atmosphere. I could smell the dirt of the trail, the fragrance of the foliage, trees that weren’t near us, but their scent coming to me on the breeze. The sun was warm on my head, but the breeze cooled me.
I was panting from exertion and from the altitude, my heart pounding as it worked to keep the blood pumping. I could feel it all, each beat, each time my lungs drew in breath. And this is only going up to 12,000 feet, I wondered, how do people manage in really high altitudes? I’ve never had trouble adjusting to the altitude in Colorado, but this was different, and I was pushing my body in ways it had never had to work before. I felt the pain in my knee but ignored it. If I’d worried about pain in joints, I’d never have done anything. I could feel my body in new ways, but I gloried in it all, the good and the bad. By all the odds, I shouldn’t have been able to do this physically, but here I was, slowly but definitely, making my way up to 12,000 feet! Was this really me? With all the effort and some pain, I was grinning like a crazy fool, which of course, I am.
Bianca was prancing by my side, tail wagging joyfully. This was fun for her, and all the attention people paid to her as they passed made her even happier. I delighted in her delight, carefully monitoring her making sure she wasn’t having any altitude issues. Are dogs affected by altitude?
And at last, Dan was telling me we only had a little way to go. Then just a few more steps. And then, glory be, there we were! Twelve thousand and five feet! I! Did! It! I did it! I did it! The joy rushed through me, feeling like my smile would split my face in two, sweating, panting, but I was there, standing by that sign. I wanted to scream my triumph from that spot, shouting to the entire world that I had done it! Several of us stood in a group and took our pictures by that sign saying 12,005 feet. I still could hardly believe I had done it.
But now, we had to get back down. I couldn’t revel too much in my victory, because it wasn’t a total victory yet. I still had to get back down, on my own two feet.
There’s absolutely nothing to do at the 12,000 foot spot but take a picture and pat yourself on the back, so there was no need to hang around. I knew that I couldn’t allow myself to rest yet, not till I’d completed my mission and was back at the car. If I rested, I would start to ache, my joints would stiffen up. Better to get moving and get on the trail back down. And so, the downward trek began.
In some ways, the way down was harder. My body was already tired; my knee sore. How can an artificial knee feel pain? Well, all the muscles and tendons and bones around it, I guess. The steep erosion steps were much scarier going down them, because they were so deep, deeper than I could normally step down off something without falling. I couldn’t have done it without Dan to support me as I carefully maneuvered down each one. My mind revolved one thought in an endless loop, Got to get back down, got to get back down. You can do this; you’re tough; you’re stubborn; you’re a Gomes and we don’t quit; Got to get back down.
The kids still leapt past us, going up rushing down. Their energy, if only I could have bottled it! Bianca was panting, still wagging happily but getting tired too. Our group was already nearly down. But I couldn’t let myself think about how much faster everyone else could get down. Step by step, carefully, and at my own rate, I made my way back.
At last, we reached level ground and made our way back to the parking lot, back to the family suburban. And now the joy was overwhelming for me. I had done it! I had both reached the top and gotten back down. My own little mountain, and I had climbed it successfully, because I had gotten back down safely. The path was equally challenging for me, going up and coming down, each way offering difficulties and struggles. My surgeon would have felt I’d put way too much strain on that poor abused artificial knee, but the sense of overwhelming accomplishment was worth it all to me.
I could never try to do this again, but I don’t need to prove it to myself anymore. I’ve done it, and I’ll never forget. Sometimes, when I think about it, I can still feel the breeze and hear the laughter of the children racing past me up the mountain. When I remember, I just have to smile and shake my head, not really sure what possessed me to do it in the first place but oh so very glad I did!
I remember reading a statement in the book, INTO THIN AIR by Jon Krakauer, that a person doesn’t really climb to the top of a mountain, till they are safely back down. It was something I would tell myself repeatedly, when I climbed my own personal version of Everest.
Several years ago, upon a ridiculous whim, I decided to climb to the top of Rocky Mountain National Park. No, not to the last place where cars can go, by the visitors center at around 11,000 feet, but the rest of the way up to the sign that says 12,005 feet. Yes, 12,005 feet. Ah, what’s a teeny little thousand feet?
I guess I need to explain a bit about why climbing the last thousand feet was quite an adventure for me. I was born with something called Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis, JRA. This is an auto-immune disease, something like adult RA but completely different. It does the obvious, affects and damages the joints, but it can also affect the optic nerve, the hearing, the heart, lungs, kidney and liver. There are various forms of it, from simple, affecting one joint and going away after a few years, to affecting all joints and other parts of the body and never really going away. Naturally, I have that last variety, the kind that affects all my joints and did damage my optic nerve. I had terrific parents and doctors as a child, and they taught me how to live with the disease, so that today, at age 52, though it was against all the odds, I am still pretty mobile, still walking on my own, still able to use my hands and arms almost normally. I do have a lot of damage and limited motion in my joints, as well as having a fused knee, an artificial knee and two artificial hips. Oh yeah, and I’m totally blind as well.
But this story isn’t about the JRA, except that the climb was something I shouldn’t have been able to do and probably shouldn’t have done, so I had to explain! My last orthopedic surgeon would probably have choked if he saw me climbing up that mountain.
I was with a group of friends; we were taking a friend from out of state to the park, and everyone decided they wanted to climb up to the top. Somehow, I didn’t want to hang out in the visitors center, shopping and eating, all by myself. God knows what I might have bought if I’d been left in the gift shop, up to my own devices! It was a beautiful sunny day, a light breeze blowing, and I longed to be outside and on the trail. It isn’t even normal for me to want that kind of thing. I’m a City Girl at heart, and I prefer to hike a city block, to make my way courageously through malls, fighting off racks of clothes, definitely not usually the outdoorsy type. But there’s something about the mountains here; they can just kinda call to you, urging you to come ahead and revel in them. After all, my biological mother was a farmer’s daughter, so love of the outdoors is somewhere in my blood, well hidden perhaps, but there, somewhere! On this day, I couldn’t resist the call of the mountain and decided to give it a try. Maybe it was all those books about Everest I’d been reading?
I told my friend Dan that I’d like to try the climb, if he’d help me. He was the only sighted male with us, his wife Joylene dealing with their kids, and I knew I couldn’t do this without help. He didn’t mind helping me. I grabbed my guide dog, Bianca’s leash in my left hand, took Dan’s arm with the other hand, and off we went. As we began our journey, I reminded myself of Krakauer’s line about getting safely down, and felt a qualm, wondering if I got up, would I be able to get back down? I hoped I would not suffer the indignity of having to be carried down! I don’t think I could have survived the embarrassment!
We took it slow and carefully. This was no city street, not even a paved path. It was a mountain trail, dirt, rocks, steep incline. There were many places where logs had been sunk into the mountain to help protect against erosion, so we had to climb up very big step like inclines. They were hard for me. With one knee not bending, and the other knee not having full range of motion, sometimes I wondered if I could get up that damn step. Dan ended up being more than just a guide, because he often had to help me get up that step and acted as a balance, with me clinging on as hard as I could with both hands, Bianca’s leash looped over my arm, so I could grasp frantically with both hands. Dan did not falter and never lost patience with me.
Other climbers streamed past us. I marveled at the kids, practically leaping up the mountain, as if they’d been born doing it. Old people, young people, people speaking every imaginable language, all eager to climb up and take their pictures by the sign. Occasionally a ranger would pass us and start to make a comment when they saw Bianca, till they saw her harness. No dogs but service dogs allowed there.
After the first few “steps” I began to wonder why I was doing this and to consider turning around before it was too late.
What the hell am I doing, I mused. Trudging up a mountain side for the hell of it! Sherry, this is not like walking to the nearest Starbucks, hiking through a mall looking for Nordstrom, or just climbing a flight of stairs. Girl, you are an idiot. Get your butt off the mountain! Remember, you’ve got to get back down, so if you go all the way up, …
But I didn’t want to quit, couldn’t quit. I am just too stubborn to quit once I start something, especially if it’s important to me, but hard to accomplish. I just must keep going! I knew I’d pay for it physically, but I had to go on.
The mountain began to work its magic on me. The air smelled amazing. I suppose it’s somewhat of a cliché to say it smelled clean and fresh, but for this city girl’s nose, there was nothing like it. Motor vehicles didn’t go here. There were no factories spewing foul odors into the atmosphere. I could smell the dirt of the trail, the fragrance of the foliage, trees that weren’t near us, but their scent coming to me on the breeze. The sun was warm on my head, but the breeze cooled me.
I was panting from exertion and from the altitude, my heart pounding as it worked to keep the blood pumping. I could feel it all, each beat, each time my lungs drew in breath. And this is only going up to 12,000 feet, I wondered, how do people manage in really high altitudes? I’ve never had trouble adjusting to the altitude in Colorado, but this was different, and I was pushing my body in ways it had never had to work before. I felt the pain in my knee but ignored it. If I’d worried about pain in joints, I’d never have done anything. I could feel my body in new ways, but I gloried in it all, the good and the bad. By all the odds, I shouldn’t have been able to do this physically, but here I was, slowly but definitely, making my way up to 12,000 feet! Was this really me? With all the effort and some pain, I was grinning like a crazy fool, which of course, I am.
Bianca was prancing by my side, tail wagging joyfully. This was fun for her, and all the attention people paid to her as they passed made her even happier. I delighted in her delight, carefully monitoring her making sure she wasn’t having any altitude issues. Are dogs affected by altitude?
And at last, Dan was telling me we only had a little way to go. Then just a few more steps. And then, glory be, there we were! Twelve thousand and five feet! I! Did! It! I did it! I did it! The joy rushed through me, feeling like my smile would split my face in two, sweating, panting, but I was there, standing by that sign. I wanted to scream my triumph from that spot, shouting to the entire world that I had done it! Several of us stood in a group and took our pictures by that sign saying 12,005 feet. I still could hardly believe I had done it.
But now, we had to get back down. I couldn’t revel too much in my victory, because it wasn’t a total victory yet. I still had to get back down, on my own two feet.
There’s absolutely nothing to do at the 12,000 foot spot but take a picture and pat yourself on the back, so there was no need to hang around. I knew that I couldn’t allow myself to rest yet, not till I’d completed my mission and was back at the car. If I rested, I would start to ache, my joints would stiffen up. Better to get moving and get on the trail back down. And so, the downward trek began.
In some ways, the way down was harder. My body was already tired; my knee sore. How can an artificial knee feel pain? Well, all the muscles and tendons and bones around it, I guess. The steep erosion steps were much scarier going down them, because they were so deep, deeper than I could normally step down off something without falling. I couldn’t have done it without Dan to support me as I carefully maneuvered down each one. My mind revolved one thought in an endless loop, Got to get back down, got to get back down. You can do this; you’re tough; you’re stubborn; you’re a Gomes and we don’t quit; Got to get back down.
The kids still leapt past us, going up rushing down. Their energy, if only I could have bottled it! Bianca was panting, still wagging happily but getting tired too. Our group was already nearly down. But I couldn’t let myself think about how much faster everyone else could get down. Step by step, carefully, and at my own rate, I made my way back.
At last, we reached level ground and made our way back to the parking lot, back to the family suburban. And now the joy was overwhelming for me. I had done it! I had both reached the top and gotten back down. My own little mountain, and I had climbed it successfully, because I had gotten back down safely. The path was equally challenging for me, going up and coming down, each way offering difficulties and struggles. My surgeon would have felt I’d put way too much strain on that poor abused artificial knee, but the sense of overwhelming accomplishment was worth it all to me.
I could never try to do this again, but I don’t need to prove it to myself anymore. I’ve done it, and I’ll never forget. Sometimes, when I think about it, I can still feel the breeze and hear the laughter of the children racing past me up the mountain. When I remember, I just have to smile and shake my head, not really sure what possessed me to do it in the first place but oh so very glad I did!