By now you all know that the “Thugs of the Forrest,” (aka Bears) changed our runcation plans completely. After the bitterness subsided, we slept, ate a lot of good burgers and craft beer, and then we got back out there.
Partially because of the less rocky terrain and partially because it was a shorter drive, we chose the northern part of the Lake Tahoe region. My lovely friend, Vanessa, loaned us her car and we decided to explore Mount Rose. Because the trail was more dirt than our previous trails, that meant less hiking and more running!! Wednesday we only made it about halfway up the mountain when we heard thunder and the clouds began to get dark. Clearly, we were meant to head back down and get some more local beer tasting in.
Thursday was our last chance to summit Mount Rose, so for the first time all vacation we set our alarms and got on the trails early to avoid impending storms. The air was cool, and yet the sun was just warm enough that we were perfectly comfortable on our trek. Adam was sweet and stopped at various points to allow me to catch up (he’s so fast!!!). On a couple of occasions, as I approached he demanded my phone and started taking pictures of me. I guess haven’t smiled that big and goofy in a long while.
Getting to the top was not extraordinarily physically taxing. No I didn’t run the whole way, but the terrain was relatively easy to maneuver through. Now, as a girl who is terrified of heights, it was a bit harrowing the higher we got to mentally conquer. A breeze would often blow through and I would feel as though it would push me over. No matter how rational I tried to be, the last quarter of the journey required me to stare at my feet and say mantras like, “It’s just a trail. It’s just a trail.” Or. “You’re gonna be ok. You’re gonna be ok.”
By golly, I made it!!! I found a nest of rocks to crouch inside and took in the view from there. Absolutely breath taking.
On the way back down I was filled with insatiable joy. A rush of emotion as I ran down most of the mountain and once again could not stop smiling. The best part of climbing a mountain is getting to run back down. (Kind of a good metaphor for life too, I might add.) I knew that these were the last moments I would have on a mountain for a while. It was bittersweet as I tried to take in all of the fresh air, as I tried to drink all of the fresh water from the mountain’s streams, as I looked out and tried to take in all of the beauty.
Until next time….