I can hardly believe that this is a journal entry that I get to make.
I've certainly wanted to write about an adventure like this for the better part of a decade!
For my entire life, Chief mountain has loomed in the distance and I have wondered if I would ever get to climb it. When I was a teenager, my ward youth leaders planned a trip for us all, but I faked a flu so that I could skip out. I was much too scared at the time, but have always regretted not joining them. Several years ago (after a unusually gruelling hike up Crypt) I experienced an intense onset of Rheumatoid Arthritis, which took a good year or so to get under control. During that year, I took to photographing Chief mountain, every month, always from a different angle. I drove a lot of country backroads in search of my favorite view, but I always yearned to know what the view was like from the top.
Well, this year (obviously because this summer has been the best of the best of all summers) everything lined up perfectly. My arthritis has felt stable, my kids (excluding Nate) were finally old enough, and there was a good group of family and friends who also wanted to accomplish this hike.
So my sister lined up a guide for us (her neighbor), we all bought our permits, and at 7:00 am on a sunny Saturday morning, we piled into five vehicles and set out to tackle that mountain.
I snapped this photo out of John's driver side window as we were driving towards the Chief Mountain Border. I watched that mountain the entire way there with such anticipation - I had butterflies!
We reached a point, just after turning off of the Waterton to glacier highway, where our trusty dodge caravan could not continue so we piled into Jewel and Kendalls truck and drove as far up a dusty road as we possibly could. I felt grateful for every mile higher that Kendall drove as it meant less for us to hike;)
This is where the hike officially began for us when shortly after 8:00 am set off up a trail that was just to the right of this photo. (When hiking Chief, you have to hike in and around to the back.)
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At first, it doesn't seem so bad. A lovely stroll through some dense forest really, and I was surprised at how quickly we found ourselves right at the base.
I felt such excitement every time I turned around to see how high we had already gotten.
There were a couple of little ponds right at the base that made it look extra picturesque. None of the paintings that I've ever scene have shown those ponds. (I felt a little grateful that John didn't have his fishing rod with him. I could see him wanting to spend an hour or so there;)
Here is our amazing guide, Jamie!
(This story would prove to be helpful to us on the way home, when we found ourselves separated from him for a moment)
Anyways, back to the hike (because I know my future posterity will want to see every step of this climb, no? Of course they will!;)
At this point in the hike, we wrapped around the mountain and began climbing through a field of boulders, obvious remnants of a time when a chunk of the mountain fell off.
So so SO many rocks to climb!!
I should mention that our guide actually knew of a much easier/more gradual trail that involved bypassing these boulders altogether. However, our fast and energetic kids were always way far ahead of us and before we could tell them otherwise, they'd ventured into this field, leaving us no choice but to follow after them. So... we took the shorter but much rockier route.
Jamie pointed to this mountain and told us that "just to the left of it was where we wanted to go."
Whenever we drive to Waterton, Nate points out this mountain peak to me from the road and comments that it looks like a house. It's almost as iconic to him as Chief itself is and I almost wished that we'd brought Nate along with us, just so he could see it up close. ...almost;)
To the left of Nate's "house shaped mountain" we came upon this. That ridge there is the top of Chief Mountain!!! I realize that this doesn't look like much. From a distance, and certainly considering how far we had come, I took great comfort at this site before me, naively thinking -
"That's it? That is all we have left? That little bit of shale is what everyone has warned us about?"
Believe me, that "easy stretch of shale" got increasingly more steep the closer we got to it and I had not set out on that last portion of our hike for 5 minutes before I realized that this...this was where the challenge of Chief Mountain was. Everything up to this point had been so doable.
Suddenly, I felt so in over my head.
My kids were already inching their way up and were just a speck on the mountain - of course continuing up was the only option.
But oh how I loathed that shale.
With every step forward, my feet would slide down along with a pile of tiny (and sometimes large) rocks. It seemed impossible to find solid and steady ground. I tried my best to dig into the ground with my hiking poles and use them to pull myself up, but this technique quickly caused me to feel a sharp pain in my elbow that would shoot up my arm.
With every step forward, my feet would slide down along with a pile of tiny (and sometimes large) rocks. It seemed impossible to find solid and steady ground. I tried my best to dig into the ground with my hiking poles and use them to pull myself up, but this technique quickly caused me to feel a sharp pain in my elbow that would shoot up my arm.
Eventually, I gave up on using the poles altogether (chucking them to John to carry - declaring them utterly useless) and resorted to climbing up that mountain on my hands and knees. Reaching forward, sliding down, reaching forward, sliding down...
It is in moments like this that it becomes apparent to me how quickly I can lose hope. I would pause every few feet, take an agonizing look up and ask anyone within ear shot of me to reassure me again that we could do this. Truthfully, deep down, I knew I could do this - I JUST REALLY DIDN'T WANT TO!!!
A couple of things humbled me during this hike however, and now may be as good a point as any to mention those things:
1) My kids. This was unlike any silly little hike we'd ever asked them to do with us before. They embraced it with absolute positivity and "led the way" figuratively and literally. Not one single time did they complain, or whine, or wish for it to be done. Not once! I should be more like them.
2) Joining us on our hike was a fellow "bucket list keeper" Tracey, who like me, has dreamt of reaching this summit. Tracey has MS though and she started this day knowing it would be hard. She struggled every.single.step of the way. Even when her legs went numb on her and she lost all feeling and could barely continue on - she kept going AND she always managed to continue on with such grace and determination. I should be more like Tracy.
3) I was lucky enough to have Jewel and her family with us on this adventure. (No doubt her kids played a large part in keeping my own kids motivated.) Jewel stuck by me on the shaley part and offered reassuring reminders every time I blubbered out a complaint. She'd pause to comment on the amazing view behind or below us, she'd tell me for the umpteenth time that I could do this, and she'd tactfully suggest that we "go get our kids." (Oh right, them.) I should be more like Jewel!
4) Of course, every time I looked at John, I'd feel particularly humbled. What a sight he was, loaded down like a pack mule, sliding down the shale just like the rest of us, jaw firmly set and focused on what he had to do, not what he couldn't do. I had begged him not to haul his stupid airplane up to the top of that mountain. I needed him to save his strength and energy to carry all of our water... and our five lunches... and hoodies.... and two dozen frozen cupcakes and a bowl of icing to the top.
(It was Jewel's birthday this day. We couldn't not sing to her at the top, right?)
John had insisted that he would carry it all and still have room for the one thing he actually wanted to take up. I didn't fully appreciate his load as I hauled my tired self up that unsteady incline, but when I think of it now, I could cry.
Finally - (after a good hour+) I was able to turn around a see the bulk of that blasted shale looming behind me. Instantly, a more optimistic version of myself returned and I was able to look ahead with a bit of excitement again. We were practically done!
We still had a half hour or so of climbing up through the very last bit of rock, but at least we weren't sliding down each time we took a step!
As we climbed and inched our way around to the front of the mountain I had a brief moment of panic as I realized that I had let my kids make this assent ahead of me. We were literally 9000 feet up and the front side of the mountain gave a whole new meaning to the word "steep." Had they reached the top ok? Did they stay with their older cousins? If they were at the top now, were they being cautious enough? The width at the top of this mountain is perhaps 4 ft, at best in some places.
It was such a joyful moment to reach the very top (around 1pm) and find Abby, Sam and Jess there - happily snacking away and enjoying the view of all views. And oh what a view it was!!!
This will forever be one of my favorite moments.
The only thing that would have made it better would have, of course, been to have Nathan up there on that summit with us. But he would have died, so I'm glad he was not. haha
The only thing that would have made it better would have, of course, been to have Nathan up there on that summit with us. But he would have died, so I'm glad he was not. haha
Have I mentioned what ROCK STARS these three kids were?
Even after all that - they still had energy and smiles to spare. Them and their cousins were amazing and I am convinced that the best time for me to have done this hike was 25 years ago when I was a little closer to their ages;)
I suppose though, that the next best time for me to have done this hike was exactly when I did it.
Oh man, I was feeling so grateful!
John paused only long enough to eat his lunch on the edge of a cliff (and sing Happy Birthday to Jewel with us;) before continuing further down along the peak of Chief to find a spot to fly his plane.
He promised me that if his plane crashed somewhere out of reach he would NOT attempt to retrieve it! I was not entirely convinced I wouldn't see him dangerously scaling the edge in a rescue effort that only he could appreciate.
He managed to fly it twice, sending it far out over the edge of chief, up and above us, and occasionally straight up along the rocky wall. Those of us watching had to sit down it made us so dizzy to follow. We all felt as though we'd fall right over the edge if we watched it too long.
It is with great reluctance that I admit that it was actually a cool place to fly his plane from. I can see why he wanted to. Not gonna lie though, my heart rejoiced when we heard the sudden crash of it against a rocky ledge, bringing John's adventurous flying session to an immediate halt. John was able to retrieve all the pieces without having to scale any cliffs and this plane of his will no doubt live to see another flight or two. (Hopefully several thousand feet lower next time;)
Speaking of a rejoicing hearts -
As we began our decent, I was immediately filled with dread as my moment with the shale once again approached. I'm pretty sure that the only thing worse than the difficulty of crawling up that shale, was the very real fear of falling down it. Just as I was about to begin the climb/fall/roll down that back side of the mountain, I noticed this heart shaped rock right at my foot. It was sitting perfectly on top of a pile of shale and obviously I took it as a sign. "Take heart" it said.
The hardest part was done. We were headed home!
The hardest part was done. We were headed home!
I certainly tried to appreciate the view a little bit more on our way home than I had going up.
(As we were hiking, John told me about Mt. Timp in Utah that is 1400 ft elevation. I can't even picture what a view would look like from a peak that high!)
(As we were hiking, John told me about Mt. Timp in Utah that is 1400 ft elevation. I can't even picture what a view would look like from a peak that high!)
We slid slowly and cautiously down through the shale and opted for the more grassy route around the field of boulders this time.
Our group of 20 got a little bit split up at this point, which had happened often through the day but proved to make things a bit interesting on the way home. A group of three descended too fast and too straight down, ending up on an entirely different peak then they should have. Abby and her older cousins said "bon voyage" to us and opted for the more adventurous field of boulders. Our guide was bringing up the rear trying to assist our amazingly inspiring friend Tracey as she made her way amidst all the struggles her body was throwing at her. And John and I could not recognize any landmark around us. It all looked entirely different and unfamiliar going the other way! I worried for a few minutes as I wondered if we were all going to find our way back to each other.
Eventually, and thanks to Jamie's earlier cautions, we did find the beginning of the trail that would lead us back to our vehicles and even better - we all converged there pretty much at the same time. Phew!
We were all so very thirsty. Our knees were screaming at us. We were tired. We felt anxious to get home. But I think we all also felt an amazing sense of accomplishment as well. With that awful shale and the field of boulders well behind us, it was finally safe to say that the hardest parts were all behind us.
I turned back to look behind me at one point, prior to veering down and away from the face of the mountain and my voice shook as I stared at Chief and wondered with John if we would ever stand on this spot again. I just never wanted to forget it!
From this point on, the mountain began to loom further and further from us as we made our way past the little ponds, down into the valley, up the final hill and back down to the vehicles.
Done.
Ironically, it wasn't until this point that I really felt ecstatic. I couldn't feel too excited before, there was always one more obstacle to tackle, but down here - you can bet that I was on cloud nine!
Done. Done. Done!
This had quite literally been the hike of a lifetime for me. I can't say that I won't ever climb this mountain again, but I will say that I currently have no yearning to ever climb this mountain again. It's out of my system and I am so glad that I get to look up at it every day now and know that I have stood on the top of it.
That's what I always wanted to be able to say.
I recently listened to a woman in my stake speak about her experience climbing mount Machu Picchu in Peru. She shared the sentiment that "everybody wants to live on the top of the mountain but all the happiness and growth occurs while you're climbing it." I have found this to be the case, as I have reflected on this day (and as I have nursed my aching joints since) how much I really did get out of this hike that I didn't ever expect to. For that, I will be forever thankful!
“Somewhere between the bottom of the climb and the summit is the answer to the mystery why we climb.” ~ Greg Child
Disclaimer: A few of these pictures were ones Jewel took of me, etc. Thanks so much to her!
Disclaimer: A few of these pictures were ones Jewel took of me, etc. Thanks so much to her!
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