After spending time visiting with family in North Carolina, I sought out one last challenge. The trip was coming to an end, and while I was looking forward to seeing friends and family, I was also grieving the end of this amazing journey. It was a both/and situation. Happy and sad at the same time. Adventures ending and new adventures beginning.
Despite all that I’ve accomplished on this trip, so many firsts, I still regularly doubt my abilities. Hiking Mount Mitchell was a chance to prove to myself that I am capable of anything I want to do. An opportunity to reassure myself that I have all I need inside of me to accomplish my hopes and dreams. I am proud of myself for how much I have grown and yet still need reassurance that I can do hard things. The one thing I had definitely changed on this trip is my mentality about pursuing opportunities and challenges that I want to. No more shying away, no more avoiding. If I want to do something, I am going to do it even if I don’t know if I can. With it or without company. So regardless of the self-doubt, I went for the hike.
Early on a Tuesday morning, I woke as the sun rose and headed to the base of the mountain. The only car in the parking lot, I knew I had given myself plenty of time to summit the peak. With backpack full, new hiking poles ready, I started down the six mile trail that would carry me nearly 4,000 feet to the top. One step at a time, I told myself. Slow and steady. I can do this.
While I certainly have completed higher peaks this trip, longer hikes, more elevation gain, this was the most I’ve attempted on my own. I knew I was physically capable – I’d done 16 miles and 4,600 feet when I was far less hiking ready, but doing it alone was scary. And alone on the trail for the entire way up I was! My hiking poles provided much appreciated assistance. I had finally broken down and bought some a few days prior. I’ve known how helpful they are for a long time, but resisted the help because I felt “old” using them. It didn’t matter that I had seen children use them, young adult hikers like me use them, I had this stigma against them. I’ve conquered that though, pushed past the stubbornness, learned to accept the help. Now I don’t know why I waited so long! Funny how that happens.
The trail climbs steadily through a thick forest. At times the path is rocky, at times deeply rooted. When tall trees aren’t blocking the sun, Mountain Laurels twist and wind upwards on the sides of the path. There were hardly any views on the way up, a rare peak of the horizon here and there, but mostly kept a secret by the woods.
While I couldn’t see the surrounding mountains, I was kept company on the journey by little creatures and flowing streams. Bright orange salamanders with delicate dots stood frozen in the middle of the path, carefully eyeing me to determine if I was friend or foe. They skittered about when I came close, but never completely disappeared. I counted six in all on my way up, many more probably hiding nearby. The dampness of the forest provided a perfect home for them.
Every half mile I passed a trail marker, alerting me to how far I’d come and how much farther the summit was. When I finally reached three miles, the halfway point, I was feeling confident I could do this.
As I neared the peak, I finally spotted a few other humans, out on the casual loop around the top. I smiled and said hello, but quickly continued on, eager to see those views. I quickly emerged from the forest, sunlight poking through the clouds, and briskly walked up the paved path to the tower on the summit. The adrenaline was pumping now and nothing was going to stop me.
There, on the tower, I dropped my bag and poles, and leaned on the railing to obsess over the mountain views. Drenched in sweat, hot and tired, it didn’t matter. The layers of blue ridges stretching out for miles in front of me were worth all the effort, physical and mental.
Clouds rolled across the mountain top, temporarily blocking the view east, but the sky cleared to the west and let the sun shine down. I rested my weary legs and sat on a bench to eat and people watch. I stayed as long as I could, until the gray clouds made me a little nervous. But before I left you better believe I took my picture next to the sign. Mount Mitchell, highest point east of the Mississippi River, 6,684 feet high. I did it. By myself. Next time I have self-doubt, which I definitely will, I will try to recall this moment. As Glennon Doyle says, “We can do hard things.” For me, today, a hard thing was overcoming my self-doubt and summiting this peak.
For those wondering, I did make it down without any weather issues. Drove back to the campground and enjoyed a hot shower and dinner before bed. Only a few more days of driving.
Tonelli's Travels 