A Trip Up The Mountain Side

I gaze down at the fresh tracks in front of me, the wind whistles past my ears, and the frost nips at my nose. I wonder how much longer will this go on? 

It is late March and the snow that once gathered at the base of the mountains has melted. My vision is hazy as the sun reflects off the snow and into my royal blue lenses. My body sweats uncontrollably underneath my thick suit as I fight for each step up the mountain. Only four hours into our trip, my pack strap snapped, forcing me to transition my gear onto one of the sleds. I struggle as I am forced down the mountainside by the heavy sled that I drag behind me. The thick belt clipped around my waist makes me unstable and throws me from side to side. Each uneven pile of snow presents a new obstacle that knocks me off my path. Adjusting my focus to the extensive terrain before me, my ascent appears increasingly treacherous and my chest sinks a little deeper. Yet, I push forward and conceal my pain with the mistaken belief that this is the only solution. 

Each slide of my All Terrain skis up the hill makes the battle to keep my head up and a smile on my face increasingly difficult. My mind races to distract me from the ever-growing pain developing in my calves. My muscles seize in and out. Then BAM! The teasing subsides and the unbearable pain swoops in like a hawk hunting its prey. It bites down tight and refuses to release its grasp. With what little control I have left, I force myself onto the snowbank and my weight backward into the deep snow, hitting my head on the way down.

I lay there for a moment. I held an ascetic aspect with my rosy cheeks, straight back, and my arms dropped by my side with my palms facing the sky. I felt meditative, and fit for nothing but placid staring. Amongst the rustling of the pine trees, I hear the faint whispers of my friends reverberate:

“Alex? Alex?? Hello Alex?! ALEX?!!”

I look up. Their blurry figures gaze down upon me. My headaches, my calves throb, and my frozen body hangs upside down, dazed and confused.

I feel my friend’s nurturing arms wrap around me and resurrect my afflicted body. Forcing back the tears accumulating in my eyes, I adjust my gaze towards my friend’s concerned face. Apprehensive, she asks me, “Alex are you alright? Can you keep going?” The words “I’m alright” dance around on the tip of my tongue. My brain begs me to let the words fall out, but my body refuses and I swallow my lies. The words like tiny bits of ghost peppers as they seep down my throat. Why didn’t I just spit them out? It would have been easier. Embarrassed, I say, “Honestly, I’m really not okay… I don’t think I can keep going.” At first, the words tasted like medicine, but they soon warm up my chest like a cup of hot chocolate.

My friends were receptive to my new found taste in words. Between the six of us, we manage to forcefully pry off my stiff ski boots. My toes sting as the cool winter air filters through my sweaty socks. My calves are seized up and solidified, like those on a stone statue. I mentally prepare myself to try and make my way back down. My friend, Gretchen, proposed that they take turns pulling me on the sled as we continue to make our way to the hut. The thought of this horrified me. I retaliate, “There is absolutely NO WAY that I am going to let my friends pull me up a mountain!!! I have already held you all up enough…” Then my friend, Peter, askes me, “Alex, do you want to go to the hut?” This seems obvious to me. “Well of course I want to go to the hut, but that’s not practical.” Peter dismisses my comment, “Alex we can help you get to the hut. Do you want our help?” I’m speechless. I stare absentmindedly as my brain circulates at hyper speed. I cannot let my friends pull me up a mountain, but I cannot do this myself. Hesitant, I let the words, “okay, sure” escape my mouth. A smile develops across each of their faces as Peter remarks,

I sit comfortably in the sled with Peter’s words ring in my ears as we trek up the mountainside. His words cozy themselves into my brain. Why didn’t I just ask for help? To the east, the peaks of the Maroon Bells reach up and touch the clear sky. To the west, the sun begins to dip behind the snow tops. As the day begins to end in the serenity of still and exquisite brilliance, I have a newfound appreciation for expressing my emotions. I recognize that I no longer have to stand alone. By asking for one simple word, things can get better.