So I climbed a mountain today. Well, I would call it a mountain, you might call it a large hill I guess. I set out on this suggested walk, and I just sort of followed my gut.
Then the road started going uphill and I thought “I guess a walking track veers off it a ways up” nope. I just climbed a mountain, all because I told a guy I walked in another wood.
It reminded me how unfit I am. No seriously, I need to climb that mountain every day! maybe by the time I leave I’ll be super fit and amazing. Also, you know, stop eating so much junk. And I didn’t bring my camera so all i have are a few terrible phone shots with me in them.
It was hard to believe that I’d actually climbed the whole thing. I could see the village and it was so far away. Not “people looks like ants, I can see my house from here” far away, I mean “I think that’s my village?”
I was expecting something when I got to the top, a marker, an ice-cream store possibly, but there wasn’t anything. The view from the very top wasn’t even that amazing. I could only see, like, all the dales (oh yeah, I’m in North Yorkshire). I felt so high up it was amazing.
It was the walk back down that was really something 16% decline and the views when I got down a bit were really something. When I saw how far I’d walked. I’m trying not to make this into a “life Lessons” sorta thing, but this one writes itself right!?
It was hard going up. It was hard going down, but with a little determination, a little persistence, and a whole lotta wheezing, I got there. I saw the happy birthday Moses chalk writing. And I also came back. Because there wasn’t anything else to do.
Get Reading. Get Travelling.