Reminiscing

I was once a mountaineer.

I once wore ankle and wrist bands, once attempted to grow my hair long (but it didn't get long... it got big!), once had a backpack which, when fully loaded, weighed more than one-third of my weight. I once wore hiking boots, "mojos" (not the potato food), sometimes a bandana on my top, and a lot of things dangling in my neck (dog tag, utility knife, flashlight, whistle).

I once sang songs of the Eraserheads while waking along the trail, reaching the hands of the one behind me and sometimes reaching out for the hand in my front, slid and slipped a thousand times in mud, stone and grass.

I once told scary ghost stories to everyone during frolics at night, gotten bit by mosquitoes as big as it can be, looked up on the unusually many stars at night, and listened to the music of the woods.

People ask me, "Why the hell do you climb mountains?". They say it's just a waste of money, time and energy. It's true that you spend some money for climbing. Of course you also get tired. But what they don't understand is the feeling of accomplishment, freedom and the feeling of being on top of everything after you slipped, fall, or in some instances, fall while climbing.

Well, this I can say, they just have to try it for themselves before they open their mouth.

I was once a mountaineer, and I will always be. See you on the top!