Mountains And Molehills

More about the former than the latter.

I'm absolutely fascinated by mountain climbing. I don't know why. Not just any mountain climbing, either. The big stuff. The kind that involves ice axes and crampons and blistering cold and pulmonary edema. I've read all kinds of books about climbing (John Krakauer's are some of my favorites) and I've wanted to see the IMAX movie about Everest for years now.

Shockingly (sense the tone), I've done zero mountain climbing of any substance--the closest I've come is hiking up Table Rock a few Thanksgivings ago. Any true mountaineering would quite surely be an extremely short venture on my part, thanks to the fact that I've been basically sitting behind a computer/drawing board for the past three years, not to mention my ridiculous lack of upper body strength. And I grew up in Nebraska, home of the flattest stretch of highway you'll ever come across. Great for corn. Not great for daydreaming, Himalayan expedition wannabes.

The craziest part is, I know the dangers. I'm sure you've all heard about the climbers lost on Mt. Hood this past week--one confirmed dead and not a lot of hope for the other two. I've read Into Thin Air, the first-hand account of the disastrous storm on Everest where 11 people died. And it doesn't stop me from imagining myself up on a mountain somewhere, minus a couple toes from frostbite (no fingers missing, please - a girl's gotta make a living.), putting one foot in front of the other until I reach that spectacular summit.

What's my deal? Is it one of those crazy daydreams you have just because you know it's something you'll never end up doing? Maybe I just like that bit of adventure. ...Maybe I just get too caught up in the things I read. Ah, I think we have a winner!

I've always been a big reader...and a big daydreamer. I think the two qualities can exist independently, but when combined in the same person they feed off of each other, often with unpredictable results. In first and second grade, I was obsessed with the Laura Ingalls Wilder books. You know, Little House on the Prairie and all that. I wanted to own a horse and buggy. I wanted to wear poplin dresses with petticoats. I wanted to marry a man named Almanzo. Then I moved on to Anne of Green Gables. I wanted to have adventures. I wanted to drink cherry cordial. I wanted to marry a man named Gilbert. And on and on it went through elementary school, middle school, high school...you get the picture. I've always found it so easy to get invested in the lives of book characters. I'm sure that says something about me as a person, but let's not pull at that thread, hmmkay?... So, there you have it. Books + Daydreaming = aspirations to be a Himalayan mountain climber.

What about you, dear readers? What are your inexplicable aspirations?

Oh yeah. Molehills. I almost forgot. Um...this, I guess.