The Weight of Goals

Before You Read This:

Written in short as an explanation to myself why I pursue climbing and alpinism as much as I do, this short excerpt was something that I had written offhand. It is proofread, and subsequently lightly edited, but I meant for the original intention of the piece to speak for itself. It is not meant as a response to anything, to call out anyone, or to explain anything to anyone other than myself. It is not meant to mirror anything in pop-culture or otherwise. Meant simply as something to read and reflect on. Enjoy.

    -Trent Hillier (06/20/2021)



THE WEIGHT OF GOALS

My eyes are welling up with the weight of tears as I process the thoughts that I must go through in order to communicate the lifetime of dreams that I have chased. There are a distinct lack of words, or otherwise that I find at the very inkling of an effort exerted towards being able to give even a shred of the emotion that I felt in the limelight of each sunset, the warmth of each morning sun, and the cold of each alpine morning before the sun had begun to rise over the wide open horizon.

“Dear God,” the words dropped from my mouth nearly incoherently as anything as I tried to take in the view before me. Given as an expression of both disbelief along with the fleeting effort of a prayer, I took in the scene that juxtaposed before my very eyes. The vast layer of the clouds beyond the foothills below us had given an orange hue to the burning red hell of the sun over the horizon. The edge of the earth could have been a million miles away, and the situation would have felt none the less more lonely. It was so terribly beautiful my heart broke. The ridgeline which composed the easterly summit of Mt. Meeker stretched before me into the orange haze of the very early morning light. We had summited moments before, in an effort, what would result to be the first of many, to link up Mt. Meeker to Long’s Peak via the Loft and Gorrel’s Traverse. In terms of technicality, it was minimal, but in that time I was in the pure infancy of my alpine career. I remember the moment poinglantly. It was what made me who I am today. Not someone who chases the conquering of the meaningless in alpinism and climbing for the sheer posterity and authority of it. Not to show a mastery over the very much unpredictable nature of the earth within the microcosm that is the mountains, but to feel what so very few are able to be blessed with feeling. The primal nature of our existence, each of us creatures so desperately clinging to the faith that the sun will rise again in the morning, and with it hope for another day.

I am brought back to the present. Each moment in the mountains after the initial flashes before my eyes. The early mornings that could have rightly been considered late nights, the hours spent toiling in the gym, on the trails, and in the pursuit of a craft that demands everything from someone because it is so much more than what they can ever be alone. Climbing is described as a selfish pursuit, and I admit that it is. Yet, I cannot find a reason to otherwise halt my pursuit in the name of righteousness. That is what continually perplexes me, and what subsequently seems to continue to push me forward. Climbing is both selfish and selfless to me at the same time. We toil forward for nothing other than the feeling that the activity brings to ourselves alone, but we find so much more later in what it can show to others. Without climbing, without the exploration of the unknown, what would come of the human race?

All these existential questions are essential to ask, as if no one will ask them, then they will be never asked. Yes, should our climbing be considered “casual” and “not taken too seriously?” it should, but all in the same, it can mean something so much more without us even taking a moment to realize it. Do not let me bring a sense of righteousness to climbing that muddles the activity, but in the same, do not let me dull the sheer beauty of it all. If I am wrong in any of this, let me burn for it, but if I have meant to say anything at all-we do things for a reason, and for me, climbing is no exception.

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