About a week ago, my teammate Morgan and I decided we wanted to climb the mountain that we look at everymorning. From the front porch of where we stay, it doesn't look to tall and we thought it could be easily conquered in about two to three hours.
But what we found was a bout a six to seven hour journey that we won't be forgetting too soon.
At around 9 am we start out from the house, sandwhiches packed, water bottles full, and ready to tackle the mountain. We follow one road after another in the direction of the mountain, trying to figure out how to get there.
After about 45 minutes, we end up in a culdusac with no houses and only an open space of brush without any path towards the mountain.
My first thought is to turn around and find another path, or someone who could at least help us. But Morgan starts straight through the brush.
I literally start praying and remind Morgan that Swaziland has snakes and we won't be able to see them well in this brush. I'm just trying to be safe.
But Morgan keeps going.
About a half hour and some stream hopping later, we find ourselves on another road, in a place we aren't familiar with at all, and the only two white people.
A couple of locals point us towards another path towards the mountain, so again we set off toward it, a little bit closer than before.
We are traveling roads that literally haven't been travelled by car in years, or if they have I am sure they got stuck. We keep walking, the mountain grows closer, and the sun is beating down on my shoulders.
I am starting to get tired, so when we end up in front of a barbwire fence, I look at Morgan and suggest we walk home or find another path. I am a little grumpy at this point.
She climbs through the fence and then holds the barbwire open and tells me to climb through. I shake my head and climb through, again she has made a way to the mountain when I would have willingly agreed there was no way.
We start walking again, through fields filled with rain from the night before, and my sox are getting wet. About this time, two kids that are about 11 years old show up with grass cutters in their hands. They're basically big knives and they are very intimidating. In the middle of this field with no one around, they start following us.
I am freaking out and keep telling Morgan that we might die. But she fearlessly keeps her path towards the mountain.
As I am rushing away from these kids, my pants get stuck on some random barbwire that is laying the field. I look to Morgan and then look back, realizing that one of the kids is coming closer.
At this point, I am praying pretty hard that the Lord will keep me safe.
The kid apporaches me and shocks me by helping my leg out of the barbwire. I politely thank him and rush towards Morgan, who is now crossing another creek.
Once we are on our way again, we make our way over hills as they grow bigger and bigger towards the mountain.
I keep begging Morgan to take a break and she keeps telling me when we get to a next certain point. I finally plop down and force her to stop with me.
(So freakin tired…)
We take a look back and realize how far we have made it, and look towards the mountain and realize we still have about half an hour till we get to the base of the mountain, or a point where the steepness increases.
About two hours in of our journey, we make it to the mountain and have to now prepare ourselves for the trek up.
I am literally thinking I am so awesome for making it at this point, and ask Morgan to go back and just saying we climbed the mountain. She says she wants to get to the top.
I thought she just wasn't good at lying, but I give in and start uphill with her. Constant step after step. My calves are screaming at me to stop and sit, but I deny them rest.
About halfway up and a half hour up the mountain, we run into a little problem with bulls. They're in the direct path up the mountain, and bull is staring straight at us.
We slowly make plans and creep toward the side of the mountain, just out of sight of the bull, and climb up till we are on the other side of his gaze.
Another half our up we finally make to the top, covered with rocks and a view that is amazing.
(Morgan and I at the top! We made it!)
Sitting on top I realize that I am capable of more than I thought. Morgan helped me realized that I don't need a path to climb a mountain, I just need to focus on the mountain and I will find myself gazing at the view from the top.
Kind of like my life journey, there is no specific path for me, I just need to focus on God, and I will do more than I think I can.
We stayed on the mountain for about and hour and then journeyed home. We got home about six hours after we set out that morning.
I got the sunburn of my life and the journey of climbing the mountain I get to see from my porch every morning.
Climbing mountains are not always easy, but it is always rewarding.
(The ever so cliched mountain pose…just cause I earned it ;))
Thanks Morgan for the push to the top and thanks God for the journey of life! Cheesey, I know, but its true! 😉
