Today we climbed down the side of a mountain. For the first time in a long time I have to admit that I have a fear of heights in certain contexts. I stood at the top of the mountain looking down the slope that our leader told us was the path. The slope was a steep one that dropped some 600 feet or so and was covered only in bear grass. I decided in my head that it might be safer if I just stayed on the top of the mountain and did not come down...these people must be crazy for wanting to climb down this with a thirty-some pound pack on my back. Finally one of the members of my team realized my fear and grabbed my hand and began directing me down the side of the mountain. I chuckled as I thought how I had to look like a fearful child being led quickly through a haunted house. Upon reaching the bottom, I sighed with relief and jumped into a freezing cold lake.
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