A Change of Pace

        Thump! My boot hits the ground hard. Rocks skitter and roll beneath it, tumbling and clacking down the mountainside. The slope is steep, and I struggle to catch my breath. My legs ache and the weight of my pack bends my back like a hammer on the hot iron of a forge. Rocks and logs lay in the uphill path. I numbly trip over them as I inch my way up the slope. Behind me, I hear the heavy breaths and stumbling feet of my crew mates. We all desperately crave a rest, but the vertical slope offers no succor for us weary travelers. To get to our next camp, we must climb up and over the behemoth mass of Wilson Mesa. There is no path around it, and the sole path up it is a never-ending vertical climb. The trail runs like an arrow up the slope, hardly a degree of turn or bend. I pull my eyes from the ground, straining to see something besides mountain side, but the slope stretches straight up to the sky. So, I pant to myself. This is Philmont. 

        Music floated in clearly on the light breeze blowing through the camp. The day's hiking was done, and my crew was glad for it. We were crowded on the porch at Rich Cabins, listening to the evening's musical entertainment. The hour grew late, and the music was winding down. At the end of the night, the cellist of the band stood up to send us on our way with an important piece of wisdom.  

        He coughed once, and then began. "My real name is Zach Hastings. This is my third year working on Philmont staff, and I am the director here at Rich Cabins. I hail from St. Louis, originally." 

        St. Louis! Wow! My mind raced, thinking that this stranger had grown up seeing the same Arch as I had. What a small world. 

        "Philmont," he paused. "It's an amazing place. There's nowhere I've found that's quite like it. I love it here, and I'm sure you all love it now too. You may be tired, you may be sore, but the Philmont love burns deep in your heart. You would never trade your experience here for the world. At least, right now. But what about when the hiking gets rough? Your pack gets heavier, your legs get sore, and you get worn down, until it feels like the world is on your back." 

        Uh-huh, I think as I nod in agreement. I already felt the deep love of Philmont, but I also felt the deep-seated ache of hiking. I felt that way hiking here today. Man, Wilson Mesa was tough. It was like Appalachian Trail 2.0. That steep incline, covered with tumbling rocks, not many switchbacks. Gosh, it was exhausting. 

        "When the hiking gets tough," he continued, "you tend to drop your head and focus on your boots. The weight on your back is like a trash compactor, pushing you into yourself, curling your shoulders and bending your neck. You get stuck in the uphill trudge. All you notice is how much you ache, how little ground you seem to cover, and wonder how much further until you can stop and rest. But, what happens while your head is in the dirt? You miss things. You miss sights, sounds, smells, chances to experience something you may never experience again."  

        How much did I miss in that short hike today? I wondered. I tried to remember what I had seen, but all that came to mind was a never-ending image of rocks and dirt. I don't know that I looked up once on that hike today. I felt terrible at the thought of so many missed opportunities to see something never before seen. 

        "I realize that when the hiking gets hard," he said, "it's easy to forget to look around. But, please, look. For your benefit, look. Gaze. Gape. Absorb. Take everything in, from the leaf falling into the creek to the entire mountain. Everything will change. Something different will happen every single time you take a step. Every beam of light, ripple on the stream, and tree sighing in the wind is happening at that exact moment for you to enjoy. Don't let yourselves forget to enjoy it. This is your only chance. You could come back to Philmont a thousand times, even take the exact same trek with the very same people, but it won't matter. It won't be the same. Every trek is unique. Things might not be the same, one trek to the next, but each is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, with different things waiting for you. As you set out tomorrow to continue your treks, please, remember. Everything is waiting just for you. Go experience it to the fullest." 

        My mind was blown. How much had I missed? How much did I let pass me by, instead of appreciating it? Not just Philmont, but in life? How many of my dearest childhood moments had escaped me? Chances to laugh, to learn, to love. I didn't want to lose anything else. I was determined to appreciate everything. Thoughts of regret and resolution flew through my mind as I squeezed from the porch. 

        The next morning, cool and clear, I began to groan as I shouldered my heavy pack once again. But then, I suddenly recalled the words which had so struck me on the previous night. How wrong of me to have forgotten so quickly! With the drive to experience burning deep within me, I made my way down the trail, head held high to drink everything in. Today is gonna be awesome! We're going up Baldy! Even Pa hasn't done Baldy, and he's been almost everywhere here. I wonder what the hiking will be like. Probably tough. I mean, it's a frickin' mountain! I can do it though, I just have to keep my head up, like Zach said. Today I'll make sure to see everything. 

        My crew hiked and hiked, marching off towards the mountain's peak. It was pretty easy going at first, smooth, shady trails with just a touch of imperceptible incline. All too soon, the smooth trails ended, and we started into the rocky uphill that was so reminiscent of yesterday. Inch by inch, my chin sank down to my chest. I struggled to keep it up, to keep looking around, but I was growing tired.  

        Keeping my head up might have been easier said than done. I've definitely done better than yesterday, but lately I feel like I've stopped looking around. I hope we either take a break or hit the summit soon. 

        I was in luck, for after powering up the slope for a while, we finally broke the tree line. We were on the summit! The misty hills and valleys stretched into the distance. The sun rose high into the pale blue sky. Everything the light touched was my kingdom, and I was enjoying every single inch of my new territory. I heaved a happy sigh. So. This is Philmont.