Yesterday we decided to go for a hike, after all this is one of our main reasons for moving to the mountains. My wife, Saskia, had had a tiring week at work and we decided to find a mild trail. Trails here, if they are rated, are rated in ranges, as mild, moderate and difficult or strenuous. We were considering Chimney Tops but after reading about it we decided to put it off for another day. The rating was on the lower end of the moderate range, so we chose to do the Smokemont Loop instead. I did, however, not read up on it as I did Chimney Tops. Chimney Tops is a 3.8 mile round-trip hike, with a total elevation gain of 1487 feet and an average gain of 783 feet per mile. Smokemont is a 6.5 mile round-trip hike (on the trail) with a total elevation gain of 1441 feet and an average gain of 443 feet per mile.

The hike was difficult and beautiful. A climb of 1441 feet in elevation with a gain of 443 feet per mile means that it takes a little over 3.25 miles to get to the top. During the climb I reached a point where I thought the climb would never end. The trail twisted and turned with switchbacks common. I would get to a curve at the top of an incline and think this has got to be the one, only to round the curve and see a steeper incline.

It is at this point that I start the real lessons with myself. I recently read that “now” is the best teacher and here is the best textbook and I believe this. While I love the outdoors, hiking, and the great photographic opportunities it provides, I have found that the experiences provide insight into my nature and makeup that I would at times like to avoid. However, I have learned that the best way to handle difficulty, be it fear, doubt, anger or whatever is by accepting it and learning from it.

By the time I was 3.5 miles into the hike I was tired. I had realized by this time that I had not planned well. Another hiker on the trail pointed out, in a cheerful manner, that I should have a map. He was of course correct and all things considered, I took his remark well. Since he was coming from the other direction he was able to state that we only had about 20 minutes more to the top. I’m not sure where he got his watch but it was not synced with mine. So, well past 20 minutes we were still climbing.

It is at this point my thoughts, via my brain, turn against me. “What if you can’t make it?” my mind said. “What if the climb never ends?” my mind said. “What if it gets dark before you reach the end?” my mind teases. What if you run out of water and DIE of thirst?’ says my mind. My mind also made a few other comments that are not appropriate for here but you can image.

The odd thing about this is that part of me in listens to this stuff. I know that each is within the range of possibility (albeit infinitesimal) and that the probability is not at all likely, and yet I listen. I see that I can feed these thoughts and build a huge fire of fear. I see that I can take that fear and build it into an overwhelming anxiety. And I see that I can take that anxiety and channel panic in the form of a full-fledged attack.

I see myself viewing a rerun of many episodes of my life. Doubt of myself starting to run amuck. Fear ruling my decisions. Common sense giving way to demons in the closet and under the bed. This show has played in many forms and in many levels and in many degrees throughout my life. But, just for today, just for this minute, just for this time I get to turn it off.

This time the lesson of the day came with tools to deal with it. Letting go of the fear and demons that want to hold me down is not only a possibility but a reality. I untethered myself from the thoughts. I let go of the fear. I saw where my feet were and I put one in front of the other. I was able to understand the fear and accept it, but I did not let it destroy me. I understand that as a human, fear is a natural part of life and that I have conditioned myself to avoid and escape it. That only makes it worse as that avoidance validates the fear and gives power to my demons.

I continued the hike, tired, getting a little sore, not knowing how much longer the incline would be or when and where the trail ended. But, it was with a smile on my face. Thank you Mother Nature for a beautiful day.