Hiking Mt. Pisgah…solo

Tired of waiting around to meet people, I decided to take matters into my own hands.  So, early on Saturday morning I set out to climb Mt. Pisgah alone.  At other times in my life going solo wouldn’t have even crossed my mind because I did everything alone. But having just spent an amazing year with some amazing folks, I had the opportunity to heal some old wounds and join that community whole-heartedly.  And now, here I was again in that all too familiar place…alone. 

Within moments of getting into the car, a song I had with an ex-boyfriend came on the radio… “our song”.  It was an old Led Zeppelin tune and immediately when I heard it, I felt that exhilaration, that sense of freedom and spontaneity that sometimes accompanies young love.  With the windows rolled down, sunroof open and radio blasting, I headed off to make that mountain my bitch…

In hindsight, I don’t really remember much of the drive after that, I must have been running on pure adrenaline.  But what did stand out was the amazing beauty of north central Vermont.  The trees, the mountains, the ponds, and rivers were gorgeous.

For some reason, I giggled every time I saw this: 

When  I arrived nearly two hours later, the side of the road was filled with the vehicles of other hikers. “Good,” I thought, “Maybe this wasn’t going to turn into a scene from Man vs. Nature.”  I chatted briefly with some old timers and got the dish on where to catch the best view.  A few minutes later, I was off.  The trail was easygoing at first, but quickly turned into bolder climbing.  As I climbed, the air got sweeter and sweeter.  I noticed as the trees changed and the smell of sweet, sticky pine began to fill my lungs. Although I had to stop to rest a few times, I made it to the top in record time, while still enjoying the way.  And this was my reward:

I hung out at the top visiting with other mountaineers who had just made the climb.  I had to explain to some Canadian tourists that yes, I was on vacation alone and deal with their looks of confusion and pity.  We shared snacks and stories of other mountains we had climbed.  I was proud to tell them that this was my first one and certainly wasn’t my last. 

After I finished my snack and had taken in all that I could of the view, I began my descent.  It went by much quicker than the initial climb and much to my disappointment, the song of the leaves gave way to the roar of local rednecks' trucks on the highway. I had found a rock along the way which I held in my hand as a talisman for my trip, but when I arrived back at the pond near the highway, I decided to leave it there in honor of whatever it was climbing that mountain had meant to me.  I had tried to cognitively figure it out: Was it the physical challenge? Was it the sense of freedom?  Was it shear desire for an adventure?  But it was all those things and much more.  What I know is I left that mountain exhausted and yet renewed, for I had done what I needed to do…whatever that was…