Today’s lesson originates from a substantially less energizing and more baffling spot: the valley.
Maybe it is my childhood, yet I related valleys with down, troublesome times and the premonition shadow of death. Since I’m the sort of woman, who dreams glad considerations, I ordinarily do anything I can to stay away from valleys.
Be that as it may, on Kilimanjaro, valleys are imperative. The course we took up the mountain obliged us to walk through the same number of valleys as humanly conceivable.
Why might anybody pick the slowest, valley-topped way off a mountain if the objective is only to achieve the top, you inquire.
Old mountaineering knowledge exhorts high elevation seekers to “move high and rest little”. On the off chance that your climbing is a considerable measure of valleys and tops as opposed to a straight climb to the top, your body better adjusts to the height.
In cutting edge non-mountaineering dialect, this implies: If you walk all over a considerable measure you have an excellent opportunity to achieve the top.
The issue with walking here and there, however, is that when you objective is going up, going down isn’t fun (and it harms your knees and toes). Hitting a valley is baffling. It takes you specifically inverse of where you need to be.
If once you’re on the mountain, there aren’t any alternate ways. On our fourth day of walking here and there. We had our longest and coldest day of the climbing. We walked up about 1,000 m through 5 hours of wind, hail, & rain. When we achieved the acclaimed Lava Tower at 4,630 m, we began a two-hour drop into the valley.
Walking up to the mountain, Be that as it may, the valley was surprising. It was lavish, warm, and loaded with desert blooms and the most astounding trees that appear as though they painted straight out of a Dr. Seuss book.
I adored the view in the valley. However, I despised that it was fixing an entire day of hard walking.
That night as we ate popcorn and discussed our lessons from the day. It jumped out at me that this valley was showing me something other than what expected. The lesson wasn’t the famous one that it takes a ton of high points and low points to achieve the top.
Though our valley was down, our valley view was not bad. It elevated in the sky. Our tent was resting over the mists where just the stars and planes hang out.
My lesson this day was that valleys are in high places.
Valleys don’t just happen at the absolute bottom. They don’t need to be around a terrible time or require beginning once again from the earliest starting point once more.
Despite the fact that the valley had felt like it had moved us in reverse, we were still 3,900 meters closer to our objective than when we began.
I never considered the way that valleys could be high and confident. That they could lie over the cloud line and fill a down to earth need. My valley wasn’t making me begin once again. This valley was just requesting that I interruption and rest between the tops.
Next time I’m in a valley I’m going to take a breath and look at the view. by- Alerick