A couple of weeks ago I hiked up Mailbox Peak. It is one of the more difficult climbs off of I-90. I did it on a Sunday morning which is my usual time to climb. Then a friend decided he wanted to climb it the following Saturday. Usually, I don’t hike the more difficult ones the close together, but I am happy that I did. It made me feel limitless.
How does nature do that for a person or does it just do it for me? Let’s explore that a little.
First, there was a forecast for rain so I came prepared with my usual fair, an old REI jacket, hiking pants and a cover for my backpack. I never wear “rain gear.” But it didn’t rain. There were just clouds which made the temperature perfect for a hike. The younger hikers with me pushed up the mountain and I made it in a record time of under two hours.
Beating a personal record always lifts my spirit. I somehow convince myself I still have what it takes which is becoming increasingly harder to do these days. So I would add this to the formula for feeling limitless.
As we sat on top of Mailbox admiring the decorations hikers have bestowed on the mailbox and that someone has installed a second mailbox not far from the first, we noticed lightning strikes across the valley. We could hear what sounded like a small car starting its engine.
Then as we began the climb down the lightning continued. Spectacular jagged cracks in the sky from heaven to earth. It made me feel a part of something out of this world. Sort of limitless.
As we moved down the mountain further it began to rain very large drops and then once we were in the forest the thunder began in earnest. It was the loudest I had ever heard. I suppose that is because I was never out in the forest in the middle of a thunderstorm before. Again it made me feel part of something otherworldly. Limitless!
I could no longer see the lightning strikes, but I could hear the results. Somehow I couldn’t get used to the overwhelming sound as I jogged down the mountain. It surrounded me.
And then it began to rain. Not sprinkle. Real rain. Pouring down like it was coming from a hose aimed at the top of your head. Normally, rain is just an annoyance. You know you are going to get wet and you move through it. This was another level of wet. Rain gear would have been nice, but not as much fun.
It was like the heavens opened up, reached down, and held you in its arms. Wet arms for sure, but heavenly arms nevertheless. Once again I felt part of something much bigger. Limitless!