The Heavens Are Telling

Andy and I hiked Dix this week, elevation 4,857 ft, and the sixth highest mountain in the Adirondack Park with a round trip of about 14 miles.  As I walked through the woods taking in everything the trail had to offer, the opening words from Haydn's Creation, The Heavens are Telling the Glory of God awakened me to the sights and sounds of the forest. When I hike and the trail is easy enough for me to be in a humming mood, I often have this song looping through my head.  The tempo of the chorus fits nicely with the rhythm of my feet and when you are overcome by your surroundings, the song just fits.

The hike started clear and cool with what I wish I could call a rookie mistake, but since I am not much of a rookie, it was just dumb.  I put on one microspike inside out, duh. Problematic because the first step of the trail was straight up and all ice.  I kept slipping and I could not figure out why.  I did make it to the top of the first pitch but it was ugly and had me thinking that I could be in for a very long day!  About 300 yards in, I slipped on some snow.  I instinctively looked at the bottom of one shoe and there were my spikes facing in, hard to get any grip that way.   Took the spikes off, flipped them around and viola' traction.

So back to the Heaves are Telling.  Now that I could begin to enjoy myself Andy and I settled in for the gentle section of the hike.  Beautiful blue ski, fresh air, white birches, perfectly smooth snow.  We traveled from wide open wood to cozy little glades of balsam pine and marveled at the lack of rocks which made the hiking gentle and fast.  After the din of the suburbs I found my senses sharpening and my eyes adjusting to natural forms rather than the angles of urban living. 

The Heavens are Telling the Glory of God.  I once had the opportunity to play the song while a oboist with the New Holland Band and even though I am no longer an active musician, this is one of those songs that has stuck with me over the years and I am happy for it.  As we progressed through the hike, things became a bit more strenuous and it was time to stop humming and focus on the task at hand.  We came out of a clearing to find ourselves staring straight up at a gigantic slide.

Gulp.  Because there are no trees, a slide just lays it all out there for you and what it clearly says is that you will be going up, in a very steep way, for a very long time.  I quickly chewed through an energy bar thinking that I could use the extra help, and up we went.  One foot in front of the other, that is how it goes.  Things got so steep we had to change out of our microspikes and into our beefy MSR snowshoes just to stay upright.  Another hiking party near us did not have the shoes and the only way they could get up was to crawl on their hands and knees. 

The higher we climbed the more windy it got and the mountain was putting on quite a show of alpine extremes.  I stopped for a breather, turned around and was greeted by beautiful snow covered mountains and a wide expanse of wilderness.  Wow, the heavens have spoken!

Nearly to the summit I get the first look of the wilderness around me

Plenty of people climb these mountains, but when you are in the middle of it, the experience feels like yours alone, the rush of energy, the view, and the rawness of the mountain feel as though it is the most exclusive thing in the world.  And maybe it is.  When you power yourself up with your own two feet, carrying your own gear, the experience is uniquely yours. 

In a powerful rush of wind we summited and took it all in.  No songs going through my head this time, the emotion, the joy, and the raw power of being on top of a mountain produces a clarity of mind that forces you to focus on all that is laid out before you.

 Go, go, go,

Anne