Erin Redding
English 134
Professor Marx
October 10, 2004
A Mountain of Emotions
If I had known what lay before me Monday morning on our hike up Poly Canyon, I would not have been so hesitant. After many attempts, my alarm finally woke me up at 6:30 am. As I stumbled into the shower and got ready, I was dreading our impending hike. I struggled to put on my shoes as my feet still ached with blisters from my last ascent of a local mountain. Less than two weeks earlier my WOW group traveled up BishopÕs Peak; an unpleasant adventure I was not eager to repeat. An hour later, still fighting to keep my eyes open, I met my class in the lobby and together we ascended to the gate of Poly Canyon to greet our Professor.
By the time we stopped for our first rest, I had experienced a whirlwind of impressions. The cold, bitter air snapped at my skin. The sounds of campus life faded as we made our way to the back side of the mountain. In their place was the chirping of birds, crackling of leaves falling off trees and the bellows of nearby cows. In place of the redbrick dorms and Cerro Vista apartments of campus stood the shabby sheds and arenas of the Campus Farm. We passed dry, fruitless Serpentine rock on our way, and cactus grew opposite a barren river. Soon after passing an ancient oak tree, we discovered a group of deer staring back at us. We stopped to gaze at the assembly on a nearby hill, and once they scurried to the top we continued on our way. The novel sights, sounds and smells we experienced in the first twenty minutes of our adventure elevated my spirits and increased my anticipation for what was to come.
After our break, we crossed a narrow bridge, passed through a grove of sweet-smelling trees, and began our ascent up the back side of the mountain. My sentiments quickly shifted back to ones of pain and regret. The wounds on my feet reopened and I was bleeding through my socks. My breath grew shorter and my face became redder from exhaustion. The views were just as disheartening, given that the dense fog hid the beauty of the hills. The only natural features visible were small, sharp rocks which further made my feet ache more, and yucca bushes, slightly more pleasant to the eye, but painful to the touch. As we climbed, the trees and green vegetation diminished. It was as though a fire had burned the side of the mountain, leaving everything brown and desolate. There was clear evidence of animal life from their tracks in the paths, but nothing more than a bug or occasional bird came to greet us. The apparent lack of life in the area created a sense of loneliness, which intensified my pain.
I suddenly heard the gasps of my classmates ahead. Eager to discover what the commotion was about and thirsting for breath, I trudged to the peak. What I discovered could best be described as out of this world. My experience on top of the mountain paralleled what I had always imagined heaven to be like, on top of the world, above the clouds, and watching over the lives below me. The dense fog we had climbed through in our ascent now separated us from the commotion of the campus and city below us. Across from us, only the summit of BishopÕs Peak was visible through the cloudbank. The longer we stayed, the more the clouds began to part. First behind us and then towards campus, remarkable sights of rolling hills and stunning architecture on campus slowly began to reveal themselves. I now knew the purpose of our climb and felt the stunning reward of my efforts.
After a moment of quiet reflection, we began our descent back to campus. With quicker and less painful steps, we passed under the fog and began to see bits of campus. First, the Cerro Vista apartments we had passed earlier in our trek, then the redbrick dorms, the performing arts center, the stadium, and finally all of campus was within our reach.
As we departed on our separate paths, I felt a sense of accomplishment. My feet still ached and my body had been pushed to its limit, but I knew that the sights, sounds and emotions I had experienced were exclusive to those willing to endure. I woke up in the morning dreading hard work and exhaustion, but ended the day with a sense of gratitude for what the mountain was able to reveal to mea.