My Inner Troll

Some people have an inner billy goat. They hope around with sure footing, never really scared of falling off of anything. Others of us, however, have an inner troll. These trolls are low-lying creatures that prefer to be close to sea level (preferably at a beach with a margarita!) Thus my inner troll was challenged as we climbed Lion’s Head Friday afternoon.

There are two philosophies at the core of this tale. One, I do not see the point in rushing through nature. Seriously, what is the point of being outdoors, if you don’t take the time to enjoy them?! And two, have I ever mentioned how much I *don’t* like heights?! As a kid, I would force myself to climb to the top of the bleachers at my dad’s baseball games to try to get over it. I did eventually learn coping strategies and a certain minimal tolerance, but I don’t do things that involve the potential of falling to my death. Period. Bunging jumping, no interest. Sky diving, I’d like to see someone try to get me to do that. Rock climbing, I don’t care how buff it makes you, NO.

The “hike” that was presented to me as Lion’s Head was supposed to be a “light” “45 minutes.” BALONEY! I interpreted this information prepared for a slightly more strenuous Pinnacle. HA! I had to climb a chain. I walked on ledges that dropped off in sheer cliffs inches from where I was stepping. I scrambled up rocks holding on for dear life. Now, to put my poor parents’ minds at ease, the likelihood that I was ever actually in real danger was pretty low, but I was totally freaked out and the only way to go was up. So I did. And I made it. Upon reaching the top, however, I sat myself down and didn’t go anywhere near the edge—an edge that was probably ok, but following the climbing was *not* going to be in the picture!

The views were incredible through the whole climb and we even got to see a double rainbow. The sunset was incredible as well, simply amazing. Had fear not taken my breath away, the sights certainly would have. I’m glad I did it, but it will be a long minute before my feet go up another mountain!

Always,

Sarah