I was doing this only for myself, because I love the feeling of standing on top of a mountain, saying I crushed that.
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The final hour is an excruciating crawl until I see, in the distance, some sort of guest house. I ask Lasius if this is where we stop, and he says no, just a bit more to go. Just a bit more. Finally, like the gates of heaven opening up before us, I see the Laban Rate guesthouse. Lasius points me towards my room, but not before making me promise that I will meet him in the common area at the next morning for the summit trek.
Ascent of Mt. Carmel | EWTN
I quickly acquiesce, since the only thing on my mind right now is making it to my room and lying prostrate on the first bottom bunk I lay my eyes on for hours on end, possibly until the next morning. Stumbling into my room, I claim a bottom bunk in the corner and immediately collapse. That means it took me 4. Per the old guidelines, you needed to make it there by am to be allowed to have a go at the summit in a single day The rest of the evening is passed bullshitting in the dorm room, eating dinner, and taking pictures of the tops of clouds. I expected to fall into a deep, deep slumber and be pissed when the 2am alarm went off, but that was hardly the case at all.
Even with three comforters and two pillows commandeered from empty beds, I was up every hour, tossing and turning.
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Along with the gloves I purchased expressly for this occasion. Thankfully, Lasius bails me out again with a headlamp. Whew, this guy is good. We get somewhat of a late start am, to be precise since I need to have a coffee my bad , and end up behind a long train of mid-to-late teenagers on some sort of school trip.
I woke up feeling like absolute shit. Headache, kind of dehydrated, small upset stomach. As we pull away from the rest of the pack, the terrain begins to change. Steep granite rock.
The ascent to the mount of vision
There are ropes that have been bolted into the rock face which we use to ascend the next few hundred meters; the terrain is far too steep to consider just climbing. I take a quick glance behind me; the clouds are well below us and above us are the stars.
We set off again, Lasius leading the way. The granite has evened out a bit, giving us the chance to walk without using the ropes.
Suddenly, my self-diagnosed altitude sickness hits again. One foot in front of the other, and do not think, even for a second, about stopping. The wind whips up a little, which almost sends me into a tailspin. Fortunately, the Gods shine down upon me and there is no further wind for the day. I am the luckiest guy in the world By this point, the summit peak is in sight. It curves sharply upward, protruding from the smooth granite rock face leading up to it like a breaking wave. A glace off in the distance reveals a faint trace of light; the morning sun beginning to peak through. The rocks are large now, large slabs of granite which require you to use both your legs and hands to get up.
The sides are steeper now, and the stakes are higher if you fall- but the view becomes more and more magnificent. Even Lasius said that this was a particularly good morning, and had his phone out to take pictures of it. We spent about an hour on the summit, taking pictures and marveling in the wonder of the moment. I opened a bar of Chok-Chok, my favorite Balinese chocolate. I saw Howard, my friend from the shuttle ride to the starting point, a nurse in LA who happens to know Danielle Godino who I went to college with.
But more than anything, I wanted to revel in the beauty of the moment.
Anyone who actually enjoys the act of climbing a mountain is lying. Each step was a struggle, and going down was no better. But that hour of being on top of the world made it all worth it. Hard work? Of course. Matt Koller. Home Writing Photography Contact.
The mystical drawings of St. John of the Cross
Twitter Facebook Email Pinterest Share this page. Not on display. Artist William Blake — Medium Graphite, ink and watercolour on paper. Dimensions Support: x mm. Collection Tate. Acquisition Purchased with the assistance of a special grant from the National Gallery and donations from the Art Fund , Lord Duveen and others, and presented through the the Art Fund Reference N Display caption Catalogue entry. In this poem the pilgrim Dante, with Virgil in blue , pass through hell and then climbs the Mount of Purgatory towards the Earthly Paradise on its summit. It rises at the opposite pole to the city of Jerusalem.
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You might like Left Right. On display at Tate Britain part of William Blake. View by appointment. William Blake The Inscription over the Gate —7. After John Flaxman Region of Avarice