For science?

As I dug my heels into the mud to stop myself from sliding over the sharp cliff to my left and only a few feet below me, I thought to myself, thank heavens I'm totally okay with getting dirty. My hands were tangled up in some roots of the trees above me and I fought the urge to let go as a spider crawled across my grasp. Mud, dirt, rocks--I was clinging to all of it--clinging to the side of the mountain I had climbed so foolishly and quickly, unaware of how high I had come until I was quite high--too high.

This was my morning.

Today.

My roommate is doing research with fire and plants and such and needed to find a specific kind of fir tree.

So, we went for a hike.

I'm always down for a hike. I love hikes. Thus even though I had just gotten out of the shower only ten minutes before she came home to tell me, I didn't hesitate to get dress and go with her.

We spotted the tree on the side of the mountain. From down below the climb looked easy enough. Plenty of large rocks and roots to hang onto. Shouldn't be too bad, we said. Let's try it. Stupid stupid stupid. . .

Climbing up is easy.

Climbing down. . .well. . .

The tree itself was also in a very, very (again, stupid stupid stupid stupid. . . ) steep, sketchy little place to the side of our original ascent. I found myself leaning against the muddy mountain, my feet and weight precariously trusting the strength of a root sticking out just above the fir tree. I was just able to snip a few of the highest branches from the tree. Then, tossing the clippers back to my roommate who sat hanging on to a sturdy bit of rock above me, it was nothing but tummy to the mountain as I edged my way back over to more stable rocks and roots.

Insane.

Adrenaline was pumping. It was a steep drop below my feet. We were at least 80 feet high if not more.

And what did I do?

Well, after saying a prayer, telling God how sorry I was for being so stupid to bring Victoria and myself up here and asking to see us safely back on level ground. . . . I laughed.
I giggled. Guffawed even.

A lot.

Let's face the truth of it, I was having a really good time. I was amused at our predicament. Amused at how we were able to scramble so far up but unable to find firm holdings for our feet and hands on the way down. Amused at how dirty we were and how silly we looked, hugging rocks and earth. I guess you could say, I'm easily amused and love a challenge. The view, was also incredible and the weather was perfect. Like I said in an earlier post: I'm just stupid happy in the mountains.

So, after sliding, some rock surfing, and a few too many close calls, one in which I had to fling my body onto a rock protruding out of the mountain side before the mud below my feet gave way, we made it back onto the trail safely. Nothing but grins and high fives. My face, hands, arms, bum, legs, feet, Chacos--completely dirt ridden, covered in mud. Taking a step back, we gazed up at our conquered feat and laughed. Giggled. Guffawed.

And then I saw it out of the corner of my eye. Just twenty feet around the next bend of the trail RIGHT NEXT to the trail, grew a lovely fir tree. The exact same tree we had just risked our necks to clip.

But of course.

*Grateful for getting down safe. Grateful for no broken bones. Grateful for a crazy but fun little adventure.*