Current mood:	happy
Entry tags:	1998, mountains

I Climbed a Mountain
I'd had a terrible week. My studies were getting behind at the University, I'd fallen into addictive behaviour on the computer, been disappointed at house hunting, and had a car accident to boot!

I decided that I needed to go away and recharge my spiritual batteries. I knew exactly the place to go -- Spirit Quest Mountain. This is a 300 acre property at Howe's Valley, located midway between Singleton and Windsor. The people here lead a rustic, simple life. No TV, and electricity only by generator.

I'd first gone there last year for their "seed gathering". That had an odd set of circumstances where I (without a means to get there) met up with Mike (who had the means but not the information), and we both went together. There we met Michelle, who was like "an old friend we hadn't met yet". In fact, she was the main reason we went it turned out.

But here I was, back again and in need to regain my confidence, not only in myself, but in my intuition and in my Goddess. I was in a state of confusion. So many things had happened that seemed to make no sense. I was studying full-time at the local Uni. The Dept of Social Security had stopped paying me, and I wasn't getting AUSTUDY because of my roll-over fund. I was being forced to find and buy a house in order to get an income -- bizarre! I needed faith to make the distance. I knew that ultimately everything would be OK, but maintaining the pace was difficult to do. I'd make so many changes in the last few years -- gender transition, coming out as a bisexual, becoming pagan, moving from one side of the country to the other (and leaving a permanent job in the process). Wasn't it about time I had some stability?

Oddly enough I knew what I needed to do -- climb the mountain. The "Spirit Quest Mountain" that the property is named after is to the east of the property. On a clear or even misty day you can see it rise up, coming to a horseshoe peak above the surrounding hills and mounts. Up the top was supposed to be a book that you could sign to prove that you'd been there.

I drove all the way from Newcastle to do this. I was greeted by Anne-Marie with a "how did you know this was on?" What she was referring to was the Woman's Sweat lodge she was running that weekend. I didn't. The time was right and I'd come. later I met a number of people who'd come for the workshops and Sweat lodge. Most of them were gone by the time I returned.

I left on Saturday morning at 9:30, after a meditation (and summoning) in a local medicine wheel (set in a swamp just below the camp) that confirmed that the mountain was where I had to go. "If you're not back by 3:30pm we'll send out the search parties" Anne-Marie had said. How true that was. There were no maps and I had no watch. I had a compass but I hadn't wanted to use it. "Just follow your instincts" were the instructions. The mountain was about 3 hours away, and 3 hours back.

The going was initially easy and I followed a creek until it flowed into a nearby river. There was a plastic hose running all the way from the shed to here. Then I crossed the creek to the first hill. The climbing seemed easy and soon I was at the top. Could this be the mountain? It seemed too small. Then I saw the real mountain looming up to the east. I made myself a staff from a dead tree I'd grasped that came away from the soil.

I climbed down again and crossed the river. Once on the other side I climbed again, until I reached a plateau of hard rock. When I reached the top I realized that this wasn't part of the mountain either, because I could see it rising in the east. How far away was it? I followed the top as much as I could, but the trees obscured my one landmark so I went down slightly. The slope curved to the right and joined another hill. I came around again.

Then I noticed a dry creek bed and reasoned that it would probably flow from the bottom of the mountain. I ventured down through treacherous foliage until I finally got to the creek bed. It was a magical place where only indirect sunlight seemed to hit, full of smooth stones covered in moss and tumbled down trees and bushes. It looked like something out of a Tolkien story.

I followed the creek until my pathway was blocked by trees. Then I veered to the right and up the slop again. I really had no idea where I was. Rising up, I saw that I was on a hill next to the mountain. I went to the top and then cut around to the adjoining area and walked (over a small dry creek) to the base. At last I was finally on the mountain.

Then the real work began. It rose gently at first and then built into a steep slope. I could no longer see the top. It was all so green and covered in loose rocks and stones. There was a car track that crossed it. I didn't know from where it came from or went. I only knew it didn't go up. I zigzagged as much as I could, and for most of the way this was sufficient. But the mountain was deceptive. It rose in undulations so that what appeared to be the top was only the next ridge.

This was a mountain all right -- it seemed to go on forever! Then the foliage changed. It went from bushes and trees to long grass and loose rocks. It was hard to get a decent footing there. I started taking rests every 10 metres or so, panting until I could no longer hear my heartbeat in my throat. There were great collections of rocks all over the mountain. I could imagine the water running down the mountain and cascading over them.

Then, as it levelled out, I was at the top.

I was surprised, and for a short while expected another rise. I'd been carrying a big blue backpack (containing a towel, water, and a few other supplies) and though it'd been heavy all the way up I'd resisted the urge to drop it on the way. For one thing my water would have gone, for another, it protected my back. All through my hike I'd collected burrs and seeds in my clothes and looked like I was growing fur.

But there seemed nothing there. I walked around in the long grass and fallen trees and found nothing. Then I realized that I'd reached the southern tip of the horseshoe, and started walking east towards the northern tip. In the middle I found a geodesic survey marker, all metal in black and white. I took a break and left a note in it, to say that I'd made it.

Despite wanting to climb down, my intuition told me to walk to the northern point. There I found a carne and in that carne a well-protected "visitor's" book. There were entries from 1988 (including one from a woman who'd climbed with her 4 year old child!) and I added mine in it. I realized then and there what I had to add:

"Thank you Goddess for allowing this
opportunity to realize that I am capable,
that I am durable, that my intuition works,
and that I am all I need.
Blessed Be."

Noble words, and I meant them. But now I had to get down. This took longer than I expected. Much of the surface was long grass, loose rocks, and fallen trees. They'd snag and catch me as I descended, and I stumbled more times than I can count. I was also getting worried as it was getting on. I had no watch but I could see that the sun was low in the sky. I didn't want to be out here when it got dark.

I reached the bottom and found a dry creek bed. I reasoned that this was the same one as I'd found before, and that it probably flowed into the river, and from there I could find the other creek and the settlement at the end of it. But I was still getting worried. What if I was wrong? What if the creek led nowhere and I was trapped out here at night. I started to sing and shout "Coooo-iiieee" as I walked. I was tired and growing sore from constant effort.

The creek bed seemed endless with rises, dips, hollows, broken tree limbs, bushes, and other obstacles. I hadn't realized how slow and arduous my progress would be. My staff was smashed in two as I tried to clear my way through. I kept the pieces for good reason. All the way there and back I'd encountered spiders of all shapes and sizes (but mostly with black & yellow bodies), all sitting in the middle of their webs that blocked my way.

Where possible I stepped around them, but sometimes having a staff meant that I could hold it upright before me, catching any webs before I saw them. I must have looked a but like a tarot card from the Wands suit! I was really worried now. I started crying "Coooo-iiieee" in earnest and started to cry off and on. Being lost was a real possibility!

Then I hit the river. It was the same river as before, flowing softly over yellow sands to the west. Instead of walking on the banks I walked in the middle because I could see it clearly (it was less than 6cm deep), and the feel of the cold water on my feet was reassuring. I followed it until I noticed a white plastic pipe to the right. Next to it was the black hose that led back to camp.

I made my way down near the creek it followed as much as I could. I had no concept of direction or distance since the sun had already set and the last vestiges of light were barely trickling down. Then I hit a swamp and lost the trail entirely. I was panicked. All the while I'd been shouting "coo-iiieee" but had heard no reply. I'd been doing this for (I estimate) over two hours.

Then I saw an animal. I couldn't quite work out what it was (a dog apparently). All along the hike I'd seen giant mound of dung and wondered what thing had made them. Monsters? I was later told that they were Kangaroo or Wombat mounds. If that's so, then they go mighty high up the mountain! But I was worried. What if I'd gone in a totally wrong direction, or found another hose?

Then one of my codifies got a reply and I shouted out "It's Laura -- I'm lost!" I heard another reply, and soon saw a light. I tried to go to it but ran right into brambles no matter what direction I tried. I was in hysterics! Then, finally Mik arrived with the flash light and guided my back to camp. Someone took my backpack off my back.

I was in a state of shock after the final journey. I stripped off my clothes (which were wet with sweat and full of burrs and seeds) and huddled near a fire under a blanket and nightshirt. Someone gave me water, then a port, and some wine. I calmed down.

People had been worried about me after 6pm. I'd been away for 10 hours! But I'd had no concept of time while away, only that after a while it got dark. My legs were covered in bruises and cuts and marks where the burrs had dug in (under my leggings) and I had cuts to hands and face. That night I slept poorly as I could feel every cut and bruise on my body. But it was worth it.

Why?

Well, this is the "corny part". I think I did learn something about myself on that trip. I learnt that I AM capable, durable, and all I need. I got to the top! The fact I got lost at the very end is neither here nor there. I saw a lot of beauty on that trip (spiders included) and discovered that no matter where I was, no matter how hard it looked, there was always a path to lead me to where I was going.

The mountain too was odd. No matter how close (until the last hill) that I got to it, it always seemed to be at a distance. And then when I climbed it went on forever. The one landmark that I'd had to guide me disappeared when I was on it.

The top, well the top was almost (not quite) and anticlimax, and going down was just as hard.

Maybe this is something I have to think about with my own goals. Once I achieve them, what then? What comes after might be just as difficult, or just as much an achievement to what I'm striving for now.

And maybe, I'd better be careful not to get lost on the way home.