Way up there

Yesterday I made it. I succeeded in reaching the top of Bow Peak mountain (a.k.a Goat Mountain). It was a lot of work but well worth the pains I now harbor within my muscles.
There is a portion of tree hiking that on the way down seems really short, a river is forded and a mountain side is taken one step at a time.
As I say the tree section seems short, this is in comparison to the gravel/rock/bolder portion of the climb. Half way up the scramble one (if that one is me) wonders if the end will ever truly come or is it only a lie you are being told. A figment of someone elses imagination and they have convinced you it is true to the point where it has becomes a part of your own imagination. This is when it feels each step you take only causes you to sink lower from the ever evasive summit.
But Suddenly, just when you have finely given into the fact that each "summit" you reach is only the beginning of a small valley you did not see from below, the truth is before you. The top does exist just as the picture book says and there you are looking down the cliffs of the other side.
What jubilation, what sheer joy, what a sense of accomplishment, what a tired body.
As I rested on the top of the mountain I enjoyed every minute of it. To see the world from a whole new vantage point, invigorating.
The time always comes when you must descend that mountain which you have climbed (unless you really don't have a problem living up where the stars are closer and the wind is frozen). And so we did, down we went. I am thankful the up portion of a climb is always put first in the order of things to do. I find, though going down is tuff, it is a little more manageable then going up. And so with joy in my heart and the mountain tops in my camera I descended back into the real world. Where a sore body is known only to well.