Camping up in the mountains…
It can be the easiest and most difficult thing at the same time. Easy because taking some time during a holiday feels easy, freeing even. Difficult because there’s a distance to travel, a journey to take and the obstacles that come with it like the cramps that will come later.
It’s easy to feel the wind in your hair, the sun on your skin and savor it; be, if only for a short while, away from the daily grind of computer monitors and cellphone screens. No signal, no public solitude. It’s difficult to keep taking step after step, to put one foot in front of the other even though it’s something natural, something that should be easy and having to deal with the sunburn or backpain later will probably be a little less than what it’s worth.
It’s easy to lay there and look at the stars, to unwind beneath their light and remember what beauty is lost in “progress” and time; to know you succeeded in the climb and worked hard for the view. It’s tough to find the right spot to camp especially when you realize half of the city decided to camp as well.
It’s easy to sit around a fire, telling stories, sharing laughs and making food that you bought from that corner store because it would be rude to ask a pizza delivery guy to climb a mountain for you. It’s difficult to make that fire, get it to the right size and then even more so to put it out, to signal the end.
It’s easy to get up and enjoy the morning air, then start to pack up; the descent is less challenging than the climb surely but it is also much more difficult. Because it may be easier to go back but more difficult to be back.
And to have to deal with that backpain.