Have you ever felt like you just needed to get out? Not just out of the house or out of the office. I mean out-out...out of your life, out of your world, out of your skin. Out long enough to stop being who everyone expects you to be; to drop the personas and pretenses, to scale your own walls of protection and expose yourself...to yourself. To get out and step away long enough to inhale, to breathe-in and re-discover who you are. I get this feeling now and then of being corralled, hemmed in by life. And when it hits, there is really little I can do to save my sanity, but get out.

On a trip last July, I found myself exhaling a big sigh of relief as I drove out of Vegas with a group of friends. A girl’s trip, planned to escape the triple digit temperatures and the frustrations of being buried alive by work. We were headed to Great Basin, Nevada for higher elevations and a promise of no cell phone service. It was a perfect chance to get out and get away, to re-claim personal space and peace of mind.

The caravan out of Las Vegas early Friday morning was bottled joy, in contrast to the blank stares and focused intent of the morning commute traffic. We had nabbed a three day weekend out of the middle of the month and felt no guilt for leaving the working world behind. Keeping ourselves in check, we made our way past the last city off-ramp. We could feel the weight of the shortened week begin to lift while the constraints of life’s monotony broke away. Our plan was to hike Wheeler Peak, a 13,065 ft mountain that stands watch over the state of Nevada. With no concrete plan other than our destination, we began to feel the power of experiencing the world in front of us. When the layers of expectation and responsibility beginning to fade, we took note of the desert, and the present moment came into view. The world around us shifted as the landscape took on a renewed smell, the mountains grew, and the sky turned a brighter hue of blue; at some point, arriving became secondary to living. We agreed on a short cut that would take us down 50 miles of dirt road and a washed out Canyon. It was the quickest way to freedom...windows down, arms flying in the wind and the raw earth coating our senses with the essence of sage. We made our way north to the destination planned, experiencing a journey with no limitations... letting go of imposed standards and unsolicited opinion.

As the first day grew into the second, the morning greeted us with a crispness we had not experienced in Vegas for months. Sleeping bags wound themselves tight around tangled legs in an effort to stave off the chill. The price to pay for camping took its toll on ribs spoiled by pillowtop mattresses and down. We each wondered if the tightness in our hips would loosen as we arranged our gear for the ascent to the peak. We went about our morning with calm intent, letting the plan for the day unfold over coffee and chatter; the morning campfire bearing witness to the days energy. Six strong women, a boy and a dog connected by parallel paths and a need to explore their own limitations, without judgment. We started out of camp, clambering our way towards a trail that would take us above the trees, giving a whole new view of the landscape, a whole new reality...enlarged and expanded. Falling into a rhythm we passed through the lower layers of Aspens and meadows, pools of snow melted lakes. We were in awe as we made our way through the Noble Firs and grass swept hillsides. Only to be humbled by the Bristlecone Pines growing out of a mountain formed in rock.

Climbing our way to the top of the tree-line, we caught our first close-up look at the peak we were attempting to conquer. Strong and silent, the trees gave way to rock, a wailing wind holding the hummingbirds and wild lavender at a respectful distance. We sat in silent gratitude for the shelter of the hillside, feasting on lunch and reassessing our intentions for the day. All but three of us decided to turn back to camp and take advantage of a long winding descent in the early afternoon sun. The three of us pushing for the top, would need to re-set our resolve. Getting ready for the challenge, we added layers of clothing, checked our water stores and closed the distance to form a condensed unit. We headed up and out of the protection of the tree-line, only to be blasted by howling winds. They were relentless and cold, causing us to put our heads down and focus on the task at hand. The rock at our feet turned to shale and our concentration turned to our footing. With each step up, we left the comforts of the hillside. All thoughts and observations became internal. Finding our pace, we climbed in unison as if attached by invisible wooden rods. We must have looked as though we were marching in a band, carefully placing one foot in front of the other...left, left, left right left. We could tell the air was thinning considerably as we started to rest at every couple hundred feet of elevation gain. At 12,000 feet, 1,065 ft short of the top, we decided to turn back. One girl was experience a headache, while we were all being beaten down by the weather. Respecting our own power, in control of our own lives, we turned down hill in anticipation of shelter and warmth.

Stopping at the first outcrop of trees, we all contemplated the strength and power of the mountain. Within the shelter of the Bristlecone pine on the side of a hilltop, we dug into our food stores and sat with the silence of our surrender. Silence turned to respect for the force of the mountain, and the power of our hearts. Before long, we were laughing and giggling, never showing signs of regret for turning around, proud of what we had accomplished. On the long hike back to camp, we fell into our own pace, leaving space for each of us to breathe-in the day’s experience. Finding room on a mountain trail, we were able to re-discover who we were and what we were made of.

I contemplated the uniqueness of each woman that climbed and descended the mountain that day. Each being active participants in their own journey, tapping into their own guidance. Heading back to the heat of Vegas the next morning, we decided this would become an annual trip. Ribs aching and hips tight from another relentless battle with the hard ground, it was decided we would each invite a new friend to experience the beauty of Great Basin and Wheeler Peak. We wanted to share what we had found among the trees, along the path. We had listened with an open heart, and heard our own guidance along the way. Each of us having reconnected to our own soul, internally; stepping back into our own skin, rejuvenated as the beauty of our true selves emerged.

In Sight of Life

Photo taken by Britta Rottschy

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