I’d never been to Yosemite before.
When we drove up, it was dark. Pitch black — that deep, thick darkness, only punctuated by stars — up a steep and windy road, up into the mountains, down into the valley. So, when I woke up and stepped out of my tent the next morning, the steep, dark cliffs looming outside our campsite shocked me — so massive, they felt almost unsettling.
Climbing up to Glacier Point, the proportions from my campsite view switched — the valley below shrunk, while Yosemite’s trademark cliffs loomed even larger above.
Miles of steep switchbacks and crumbling granite trails left lots of time for thinking. But instead, I found myself leaving the constant strain of thoughts behind, only thinking of getting to the top.
Which of course, was more than worth it.
I already can’t wait to go back.