Why I Like Starting in the Dark • Notes from the Mountain

Why I Like Starting in the Dark

Notes from the Mountain • Issue No. 15

Notes from the Mountain is Mountain Goat Soap Co.'s weekly journal, where I share stories from the outdoors, the workshop, travel, and the everyday adventures that inspire both my life and my work.

One of the things that surprises people when I tell them about climbing Colorado's 14,000-foot peaks is that we almost always start in the dark. Really dark. Headlamps on. Stars overhead. You can barely see the trail beneath your boots, much less the summit.

I've always liked that part. Not because I'm particularly fond of waking up at 3:00 in the morning...but because, for the first few hours, I can't see where I'm going. More importantly...I can't see how far I still have to go.

One of my favorite climbs with my hubs was Missouri Mountain. At 14,071 feet, it isn't the tallest Colorado fourteener, but it was certainly a challenge. By the time we reached the summit, we'd spent nearly six hours on the trail (and had another four hours to go down) and climbed roughly 6,000 feet. It was one of the harder days I've spent in the mountains.

The first couple of hours are always peaceful. Just the beam of my headlamp, the crunch of my boots on the trail, trying to remember how to breathe, and quiet conversations mostly about why in the world we are doing this and "I'm getting too old for this". Then the sun comes up and you see the mountain ahead.

There it is. Still thousands of feet above us, looking impossibly far away. And even after summiting 30-something peaks, I always think, "We're really going all the way up there? and "There is no way I can go that far".

Mountains have a funny way of playing tricks on your perspective. From below, the summit always looks farther away than it really is. If I'd stood at the trailhead that morning and focused only on the summit, I probably would have talked myself out of trying. Thankfully, mountains don't ask you to climb all 6,000' at once. They just ask for the next step.

That's really all climbing is. One step. A sip of water. Another step. A few laughs. Breathing. A snack. Another step. More snacks.

Before long, you stop looking at how much farther you have to go and start noticing how far you've already come. Perspective changes, not because the mountain changed...because you did. 

And then, somehow...you're standing exactly where you were looking just a few hours earlier. It never stops amazing me.

Looking back, I've realized Mountain Goat Soap Co. grew much the same way. When I poured my very first batch of soap, I couldn't see where it would eventually lead.

Maybe that was a gift.

If I had known about the long nights, early mornings, tens of thousands of bars of soap, countless mistakes, incredible customers, and wholesale clients waiting somewhere down the trail...I might have been overwhelmed before I ever started. Instead, I just kept taking the next step.

We all have our own summits. They don't all have elevations. Some are businesses. Some are families. Some are dreams we've carried around for years. Some are simply becoming the person we hope to be. Whatever your summit happens to be, I suspect it probably looks farther away than it really is.

I think that's one of the reasons I enjoy starting in the dark. You don't have to climb the whole mountain before breakfast. You just have to keep walking.

From the Trail:

A short reflection inspired by the outdoors.

"Some trails are easier to follow before you can see the whole mountain."

More soon,

Dianne

Bring the outside in.