The Summit

At 17, I took the trip of a lifetime. Two and a half weeks in Australia flew by as my group skipped up the east coast, visiting cities like Sydney, Cairns, and Darwin. I was allowed to tour the Sydney Opera House and Harbor, snorkel the Great Barrier Reef, and patrol the skies in a hot air balloon. My time "down under" created many wonderful memories but the one that's clearest was a small island, Fitzroy-something-or-another. Although the name and exact location have been buried by other bits of my history, the experience of that single day is something I will never forget.

A group of 30 or so high school students were given the task of hiking "to the lighthouse." The small structure hung precariously from the edge of a ragged cliff, hundreds of feet above the waves below, and it was our job to make it there by noon. In 90 degree weather the hike was slowed by sweat and the lackadaisical attitude of teenagers but eventually, everyone was accounted for.

A short burst of celebration ensued - we could now return to the bottom for ice cream! However, before we began the easy task of romping downhill, assisted by gravity, our trip leader offered another challenge…. a second hike, straight up an enormous mountain, to a place called The Summit

Although chocolate ice cream had scarcely sounded better, at 17, it's more important to fill your ego than your belly and I wanted to impress the other members of my team. After contemplating my options and priorities, I decided the ice cream would have to wait and I joined the other 6 or so students that had opted for the second hike.

I'll never forget the experience that followed my simple, "I'll go."

I don't know how many miles that second hike was but at the time it seemed as if we were trying to reach the heavens. Every muscle burned and muscles I didn't know I had ached long before I reached the top. My canteen was emptied 30 minutes after we left the lighthouse and by the time The Summit arrived, I wondered if my esophagus would never forgive me.

But eventually, after leaning on trees, taking short rests, convincing myself that the end would never come and then moments later assuring myself it MUST lay just around the corner, The Summit stood wide open before me.

I had never experienced anything like it, nor have since. It's one of those, once-in-a-lifetime moments where your heart stands still and your next breath is caught before allowing to escape. I honestly can't describe the scene, although it's still clear in my memory. From the Summit it seemed like I could see the whole world and the view instantly removed any trace of exhaustion.

It was amazing.

On the hike down I realized the opportunity I had nearly missed. Only a quarter of the students on that trip attempted to reach the Summit that year, and after we returned, full of vibrancy and excitement, the regret of the others was evident. Once refreshed and rehydrated, some asked to try to the hike again, but they had missed their only shot - our boat was leaving and there wasn't enough time.

I wonder if The Summit is like my time here. The journey of the last six months has undoubtedly been the hardest thing I've ever endured. And it's not over yet. Everyday I continue the count down that will one day terminate with me taking a jet plane to the US...but perhaps the journey is what will make my arrival so beautiful.