My legs and back ached, I was coated in sweat and dirt, and I was staring up at the face of a steep cliff that I swear was laughing down at me. Why the hell had I agreed to going on this backpacking trip?
It had sounded like a great idea several days ago. I was hanging out with my two brothers, my brother’s girlfriend Seisha, and my boyfriend Steve. Someone suggested we hike into Maui’s Haleakala Crater. 10 miles in, and 10 miles out. We planned meticulously, mapping out our route and packing all the necessary gear. One detail that no one thought to mention, however, was that the last several miles of the trail was a series of switchbacks up a nearly vertical side of the mountain.
We had been in the Crater for 24 hours, and were nearing the end. But the final stretch looked impossible. My feet were screaming in pain, and I considered telling the others to call for an emergency airlift to haul me out of there. But some stubborn part of me kicked into gear, the part that is determined to finish what I start, no matter how costly it is. Step by step, I kept going along the steep and narrow path. It helped that I was positioned in the middle of the group, with Seisha and Steve ahead, and my two brothers behind. If I quit or slowed, I’d be passed by my younger siblings, an option that didn’t appeal to my eldest child self. I had to keep going. Finally, after seemingly endless misery, I saw the end of the trail up ahead. One by one, we reached our destination. And one by one, we all collapsed on the ground in exhaustion.
We had done it. We had traveled into the Crater and back.
It had sounded like a great idea several days ago. I was hanging out with my two brothers, my brother’s girlfriend Seisha, and my boyfriend Steve. Someone suggested we hike into Maui’s Haleakala Crater. 10 miles in, and 10 miles out. We planned meticulously, mapping out our route and packing all the necessary gear. One detail that no one thought to mention, however, was that the last several miles of the trail was a series of switchbacks up a nearly vertical side of the mountain.
We had been in the Crater for 24 hours, and were nearing the end. But the final stretch looked impossible. My feet were screaming in pain, and I considered telling the others to call for an emergency airlift to haul me out of there. But some stubborn part of me kicked into gear, the part that is determined to finish what I start, no matter how costly it is. Step by step, I kept going along the steep and narrow path. It helped that I was positioned in the middle of the group, with Seisha and Steve ahead, and my two brothers behind. If I quit or slowed, I’d be passed by my younger siblings, an option that didn’t appeal to my eldest child self. I had to keep going. Finally, after seemingly endless misery, I saw the end of the trail up ahead. One by one, we reached our destination. And one by one, we all collapsed on the ground in exhaustion.
We had done it. We had traveled into the Crater and back.
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