Many years ago now, I decided to make a journey back to my home town to do some backpacking and a solo climb of one of my favorite 13,000 foot peaks. I had been living in the crowded suburbs for 24 years at that point, but took every chance I had to spend time out in the mountains that I missed so dearly. I remember the day I told my friends that I was planning this solo trip. They all thought I was crazy. They were worried about my safety regarding any interactions I might have with wildlife. I reassured them that I felt safer out in the wilderness in the absence of people, than I did walking through a populated neighborhood. I also said, there was a much higher probability of my being hit by a car while crossing the street in the city, than being attacked by a wild animal while alone in the mountains. They still thought I was crazy. Maybe I was, just a bit.My cautious response surrounding humans of course comes from my PTSD and a deeply rooted, and maybe not so logical, belief that people and their intentions, are not to be trusted. A sad way to live I suppose, when you live in a world filled with people, but those were the cards I was dealt in this lifetime.My first night on the mountain at base camp, there was one other small group of humans on the far end of the lake. It was the tail end of backpacking season and the nights were getting colder and snow would be moving in soon. On the second day, the small group left and I had the entire lake and mountain to myself. I felt myself sigh with relief. I was more on edge about that unknown group of fellow backpackers than I was about being up there by myself.I gave myself two days to acclimate to the elevation before attempting to climb the peak. Those first few days were spent taking long naps on warm boulders, fishing for brook trout, taking photos, and soaking in the peace and silence. It was a reminder of just how important those natural spaces were to the healing and maintenance of my soul.These very mountains had been my saving grace my whole childhood. They were where I could go to escape the ugliness of my daily life. They strengthened me, they calmed me down, they were my safe hiding place, and they gave me hope for a future. When I was in middle school, I used to fantasize about running away from my wretched home, to live in a cave somewhere up in those mountains. But at the time, it was just a fantasy, because I knew I did not yet have the skills to survive that kind of life...Read more in my Show Notes: awomaninthewoods.com/show-notes-2/Question of the Week:What is the biggest mountain you have ever climbed, either physically or metaphorically? What was that experience like for you? What did you learn about yourself on that journey towards the top?You can email your responses to me at: tracy@awomaninthewoods.com or you can record a message right from your computer or mobile device at Speakpipe. The URL for Speakpipe is speakpipe.com/awomaninthewoods. 
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