It was colder than it looked, and each step took me higher up into thinner air and lower temperatures. But, each step also took me closer to a freedom I only feel when I am ten thousand feet up, straddling timberline with the broken forests ranging below me and the desolate, yet beautiful, peaks rising above me.
The clouds dropped lower to obscure my view, but I didn’t mind. I would be up where they were soon enough and I would still see what they were keeping hidden. I wasn’t reliant on anything but my own two feet and power of my determination, and therefore I would not be denied my success by any distraction. I would make it to the pass. I would make it to the next camp. I would make it back to the trailhead and, eventually, the real world.
There might be cold days, or hot. There might be rain storms, hail storms, or thunder storms. There might be long days where my body aches and begs me to stop. There might be injuries to overcome. There might be.
There will be adventure.