The climb to the top hurts. The pain is uncomfortable; your leg muscles throb, and the blisters on your toes sting with every pace. Dirt covers your ankles, and sweat trickles down your back, shoulders, and neck as the sun blares down like a spotlight. The incline is severe, more serious than you expected, but still you hike. You drive your feet to tread each step with purpose and ambition, determined to capture the vision you imagine will be at the top. And when you reach it—the spectacle that is waiting for you on the peak of this mountain—not even a whisper or gasp will escape your lips.
This area of the world will do that to a person: leave them speechless, I mean. The sights of the Pacific Northwest leave even the most chatty completely wordless, flabbergasted, astonished, dazed, and most frequently, overwhelmed. It is difficult to describe how easily this land can take hold of your soul, clutch onto its vulnerability in that moment of breathlessness, and refuse to ever again let it go. I don’t think I’ve ever been truly in love with a person before, but with this land, I am head over heels.
My love blossomed on a brief camping trip to a ho-dunk little Washington town called Trout Lake, where I swam in crisp and fresh water, ate huckleberries grown right in the wood, sat soundlessly by a river until I fell asleep, and most importantly—discovered myself. In just two days in the Washington State wilderness, I came to understand my passions, my desires, my fears, my future, and my past. And I think when it comes down to it, bravery is simply that: confronting the truth. Facing what is to come with upmost optimism and courage. Bravery is facing destiny without trying to alter it so that it may be less scary. Believe it or not, there are places in this world that will lead you to that fate until the wind blows it straight through your eyes. The Pacific Northwest is without doubt, a place where the unearthing of your destiny might take place. Bravery is a hard concept to grasp, and it is hard to obtain, but once you find yours, I promise, you will never let it wander.
The climb is always the toughest portion of a journey, but know that with every hike there is always a sight to see at the top. Bravery is complicated, but once you are 4,800 feet in the sky, it suddenly becomes quite simple. You know how in movies there is always a score playing in the background? When I found my bravery, I heard the music in my soul. I believe bravery is looking out unto a sea of endless trees and mountains—a sea where the cerulean sky kisses evergreen tips—and hearing a symphony in your mind. And as you look down, and the violins plummet into low notes that vibrate in your ears out of fear of the height, bravery is taking a step back. Bravery is taking a step back and closing your eyes and remembering that though you could fall, you still rather take the chance because this view of Mt. Adams gazing back at you is worth any dread. And when the wind begins to sing, and the waves of trees in front of you dance, and the scent of pine blows under your nose and through your hair, you can hear the steady beat of a drum in your heart telling you where to go. Strangely enough, I discovered on the top of this mountain, that I was called to leave. My destiny called me to go live out my passion elsewhere, far away from the Pacific Northwest. I haven’t quite figured out why, but I will one day. If I ever reach a time when I am truly lost, and unsure where I am supposed to be, I know for sure where I will go. I will go to the peak of Sleeping Beauty trail, in Trout Lake, Washington, and I will once again, reclaim my sense of bravery.
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