Not always what it seems

I never thought much about summits until I moved to Colorado. If you spend any time on the trails, it’s part of your language here. The summit is the highest point on a mountain, and when you reach it, you have summited. I’ve certainly been fortunate enough to have achieved many, especially over these past few years.

Depending on the altitude, the elevation gain that is required and how technical the trail is, there are varying levels of effort involved in summitting a mountain. In my experience, there is certainly something magical about reaching that peak, finding the perfect rock to sit on and breathing in the awe. Then after a short recovery, you have the opportunity to descend and admire the effort of others walking toward you on the same path you’ve just taken.

A few months ago, I was hiking the Manitou Incline. I had first completed this unusual summit nearly three years earlier. At that time about half-way through the hike, I thought to myself – this is going to be one and done! It’s a tough one for sure. But I suppose enough time had passed for my body and mind to actually forget the vow of never tackling the Incline again, and I found the perfect late Spring Day to return to it.

The Manitou Incline is actually an old cog railway that has been converted to a 2,744 step hiking trail. It gains over 2,000 feet in elevation in less than a mile. It has an average grade of 45% and up to 68% in some places. The summit is at 8,270 feet. And to add to it all, there is a false summit just past the halfway point.

A false summit is exactly what it sounds like. It is a peak that appears to be the pinnacle of the mountain or hill. And only when you reach that peak do you see the true summit still further in the distance and higher up. Or even worse, a second false summit. It can be crushing when you realize you have been deceived by the mountain.

As I set out for my second time hiking the Incline, I could see the high point in front of me. I vaguely recalled that it may not be the summit. And yet, I simply hoped it was and just kept stepping. As I reached that first pinnacle, I looked in the distance and saw the real summit which was at an even steeper grade and still nearly half the distance in front of me that I had just ascended. I dropped my head and whispered under my heavy breath, why are you doing this again?

I have experienced several very memorable summits that had false summits as part of the package, including my first 14er (summit above 14,000 feet), Quandry Peak. It actually has two false summits. Thinking back on that one, I can still feel the angst of the moment when I reached both of them. And I’m glad that I didn’t know about the false summits until I was already standing on them. As much as I like to plan and research, learning by experience is rewarding and, in this case, ignorance was bliss.

Have you noticed how life is full of false summits?

Even as we live in the present, we are still striving toward goals, accomplishments, or simply contentment. And how many times, when we think we have made it, do we discover there is more up ahead. Perhaps we reach a point where additional effort is required. Or maybe we conclude that either we can’t make it or that it’s not so important and we don’t need to do it after all. Maybe just maybe we realize that the false summit IS OUR summit. It’s good enough. It’s all we ever really wanted.

I wonder if perhaps the very best hikes are those with a false summit. It’s almost like a check in point. Okay, I am not at the summit after all, but how do I feel? What rewards am I receiving right here, right now? Do I still want this?  Is this enough, or do I need to keep going, and if so, how do I stay encouraged?

I generally feel like I have two choices as I strive toward that summit. I can keep my head down. Focus on my feet. Try not to look up to what is ahead. Try not to gage the distance and the time and the effort. Just do the work. No matter what. If it’s something that is important to me, then I keep walking, adjust my pace, and pause when I need to.

Or I can look up. Keep that summit in my sites. Keep my eyes on the goal and move steadily in its direction. And plead with it to be the real thing.

I know that if I am lucky there will be more false summits in my future. On this soul ride, as we seek, we ascend many mountains. And they are not always as they seem. We learn from our struggles. We ask ourselves why we are doing this. We shake our fist at that false summit. We adjust our shoelaces. We regain our focus on the real goal. And then with our verve for possibilities, we walk to the next summit.