It was practically a vertical incline. Grasping the rocks with my hands and trying to balance on both feet, I look down at my hands to see mud smeared across them like icing. My shirt sticks to my back, the alpine air heavy with humidity.

Mountain Equinox is its name and it took years to climb. Every time we tried to hike it was too rainy, someone complained too much, or we were unable to go. With only a week in Vermont every year, getting to the top was a challenge. Almost every time we made it to a crystal clear creek. Little did I know this time we would reach it. 

Rock crumbled beneath our feet. I could feel the blisters forming from the rub of my shoe, the support plunging into my heel. Are we there yet? I wanted to say. The mud beneath my sole was causing me to slide downwards like I was on a treadmill. Looking further up the trail, I could see the horrific slope ahead. It felt as if it was teasing me. My feet stopped below me. I felt the crisp cold air on my lips. Glancing down at the little screen around my wrist, I processed my struggles. It read increasing elevations and high heartbeats. How can I continue? My hand grasped my water bottle lid and turned so that I could have a small sip of cold water for water beading up on my forehead. I began to think ahead, soon we would be at the flat area with the bench. It was time to carry on. 

As we continued, so did the vigorous slopes. I can’t do this anymore. Looking down though, I could see the heights I had climbed. Relief drizzled on me like fresh rain and I felt the dewy droplets hitting the back of my throat. But my sense of accomplishment was very short, I could see the steep face of the mountain and the narrow path below my feet. One small slip and I would tumble down the hill like a gymnast flipping through log and bush obstacles. The rigid path was torturing me. Patronizing me. I thought about the little bench. We have to be close. I persisted.  

As I peeked my head around the treacherous path, I could see a flat area. My legs began to pick up. Finally. I was relieved to see a comforting, relaxing bench surrounded by wispy evergreens and a bed of pine needles. Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. Things were different up here. The large, tall oaks and maples that had once towered over us had transformed into tall, thin evergreens. Like a fairytale, there were logs with colorful mushrooms sprouting from the wood. White flowers emerged from the ground like groundhogs on the first day of spring. The view was prettier here. Taller, longer and farther. The pale greens transformed into deep greens and browns. The path changed from milk chocolate brown mud to boulders of rock and black mulch. There was a slight sound of water being pulled downward by gravity. The comforting, clean smell of the evergreens hit my nose. I could see myself feeling the sticky sap bubbles forming at the surface of the bark. It was like an enchanted forest.  

My head turned to the left and I saw the familiar path. A little trail sprouted in the corner of my eye. I turned to my family. I knew it was that little old spring. 

“Are we going on the little trail?” I asked. 

Of course, I knew the answer.  “Yes, It's beautiful. Don’t you want to see it?” they replied. 

“Not really. It just adds more time and I want to keep going.” I said. 

Soon, we began to walk along a narrow path. 

“We are almost there,” my dad said.

 We were almost there. Just a couple more seconds and… WOAH. I saw the spring in the corner of my eyes. It was gorgeous. The fairytale land had altered to a prepossessing world. A diamond-colored river sprang from the side of the mountain. I reached my hand into the cool water to feel it trickle down my arm. The cool, crisp sensation was pleasing to my hands. I’ve always read about the oasis in the desert that gives refuge to exhausted travelers. Here it was, perched high on a mountain face in southern Vermont, giving me the rest I needed to fuel the rest of my journey to the summit. The water was weaving in and out of the little mountains of rocks. The sounds of water were dribbling down the mountain at a steady tempo.  Moss and spring greens emerged from the porous stone like little sea animals coming to the surface for air. I walked across the body of water carefully balancing on the rocks.

 “I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” my sister exclaimed. Crash! The rocks slid with me. I jumped off as fast as I could. 

“How did you know..?” I said. The sounds of the water dribbling down the mountain brought me back to reality. I could see the path taunting me in the distance. Teasing me, daring me to finish the journey I’d started.

Then, I stood up on weary legs. Both exhausted and restored, it was time to recommence. We headed back to the main trail. One foot over the other, I watched my feet travel. Left, then right. Be careful. Rocks are sneaky, roots like to hide. I stared at my muddy blue and black shoes thinking of all the miles they had traveled. Turning my head to the left, I saw the trailhead. The blue stripe marker was freshly painted with a single stroke of the brush. I am ready. I peered down at the feet I would soon use to climb the steep, slick incline that would lead to the summit. It was the first time I had peaked, and also the first time I had enjoyed the journey. 

Even when it seemed impossible, I continued. When the fairytale forest distracted me and lured me to rest, I continued. I will forever remember the moment of accomplishment after surpassing what I thought was my limit. I will use the lessons this hike taught me and apply them to my life- to push through the hard times and motivate myself when the climb seems easy. I know the view from the top will be worth it.