We Can Do Hard Things: South Sister Summit

Almost to the summit

On July 21st, 2018, one of my best friends, Cyndi, and I summited the South Sister, Oregon's third tallest peak at 10,358 feet.  The hike gains more than 5,000 vertical feet in 6.25 miles of climbing and is rated "very strenuous" in every hiking review that I've read.  Curt and I did this hike several years ago and I wrote a hike review.   You can read it here, so I won't reinvent the wheel and talk about the technical pieces of this hike.

Cyndi and I did not set out to summit the South Sister because it sounded like a fun way to spend the day.  You see, on May 13th, 2018, Cyndi lost her husband Alex in a tragic and unexpected accident.  We are still reeling with grief.

Cyndi and Alex, me and Curt.  Gosh do I miss him.

Every single day, my friend wakes up in an empty bed to face another day without the love of her life.  Every single day, she summits the mountain of grief.  And you know what?  I have watched her choose joy in the face of suffocating sorrow.  I have watched her bravery to stay in the game. Cyndi is going to work.  Parenting her kids.  Walking almost every day.  Loving her friends.  Being raw and authentic in her grief, and still choosing joy in the face of it.  Every day is hard, but you know what?  We can do hard things.

The only hike Cyndi has ever been on - prior to summiting Oregon's third tallest peak - is "maybe Angels Rest years ago?" Clearly she didn't have time to train for this hike.  We both knew that logically, it was a stupid idea to try to break her into hiking with the hardest hike you can find in Oregon.

But I know my friend.  Her mind is strong.  She is determined. Courageous. Brave.  I knew it would be cathartic to summit a literal mountain.

leaving my house

ICE CREAM!

So off we went.  Girls weekend in Central Oregon.  Ice cream in Sisters and a dumpy hotel room.  Out the door super early the day of the hike so we could be to the trailhead by 8 a.m.  I run every day and am way too invested in my run streak to purposely skip a day, so Cyndi dropped me off on the highway a mile from the trailhead so I could run to meet her.  The parking lots were already crammed so we were forced to park in overflow parking, adding mileage to a hike that was already REALLY long before we started.

Starting out

Many things went wrong.

1. I brought my camera and forgot to charge the dead battery forcing us to rely on our iPhone cameras to document our journey.  
2. When we were taking the hiking poles out of the car, I somehow managed to use the pole to slice the back of my leg open.  #whatevs  
3. Cyndi has dental implants.  Within the first mile, I gave her a hard, chewy electrolyte tab.  She bit down, and out came her tooth.  We laughed our heads off, she put it in her zipper pocket and we kept hiking.
4. The mosquitos had just hatched in the woods.  They normally don't like me, but they were SWARMING us.  We spent several miles swatting, swinging our hats around and mumbling about the mosquitos from hell only to discover THE FOLLOWING DAY that Cyndi had been carrying a full can of bug spray in her backpack THE ENTIRE TIME.  I mean... c'mon!  We laughed hard about that one.

The hike was hard.  There is no way around it.  The trail is stupid steep.  It feels like it never ends.  The altitude wreaked havoc on Cyndi's breathing.  It freaked her out to hear herself laboring so hard to breathe.  She thought about quitting.  She almost quit.  On more than one occasion.  We cried.  We prayed.  We counted steps forward before we took a break.  We talked about breath control and not being anxious.  We talked about Alex and how we missed him.  We cried some more.  Laughed till we almost peed our pants.  Prayed a lot.

Coming out of the woods.  You can see how much further we had to.

UP UP UP.  It's relentless.

Me taking in the views that are spectacular once you get out of the woods.

My brave friend.  One foot in front of the other.

We had random moments of cell coverage and in those times, Cyndi would do a live video on Facebook.  The love and support of her friends  and her kids fueled her to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  When I had cell coverage, I texted Curt and my Mom.  "Please pray.  I don't think she's going to make it.  She's struggling.  PLEASE PRAY!  I want so desperately for her to make it to the summit."

I was pretty sure she was going to quit at this moment.  But heck no.

HA!  A slip and fall.  We both did it multiple times, even with poles. 

This alpine lake is one of my favorite things about this hike.

Broken Top in the distance, along with half of the state of Oregon.

And so went the hike.  The miles crept by... one footstep after another.  Every time I was certain Cyndi was going to quit, she dug deeper into that well of fortitude and courage, then took one more step.  WE CAN DO HARD THINGS!

That's the summit. We were so close. 

We were within feet of the summit and my poor friend's legs were completely shot.  Every step was a giant effort. So we counted.  One step after the next.  Twenty steps.  Take a break.  Twelve steps.  Take a break.  We can do hard things.

Digging deep.

Eight hours after we started, my sweet friend took a final step onto flat ground at the summit of the mountain. We both lost it.  Tears upon tears upon tears.  I was so proud I thought I would explode.  We can do hard things.

SUMMIT!

YES!

Middle and North Sister

Cyndi used everything she had to get to the summit.  I was worried about the descent.  It's grueling.  Her toes were jamming into the front of her hiking boots, causing intense pain.  As we picked our way back down the mountain, we encountered two different women who were still trying to make the summit.  They clearly were suffering and losing heart.  You know what my Cyndi did?  She stopped to encourage them.  Shared her story of loss and suffering and reminded these women they can do hard things.  We even wrapped our arms around one gal and prayed for her before she continued Doing Hard Things on the ascent while Did Hard Things on the descent.

It took four hours to get down the mountain.  Cyndi lost three toenails.  She cried. We laughed.  I cajoled.  Swatted mosquitos.  Even sang to her, except the only songs I could remember the lyrics to were the hymns I grew up with, so she got The Old Rugged Cross and Just As I Am. Somehow we made it back to our car. Sweaty, tear-streaked, starving, and so content.

The next day - showered, but still crying about everything cause you know... grief.

#twinsies

I don't know what your mountain is, but we all have them.  I do know that this year I have encountered grief in a way that takes my breath away.  Suffering has the power to suck the life right out of you. But Jesus...  oh Jesus.  He is our Portion.  Our strength for each day, and He is good.  He helps us get up each morning, face our mountain, choose joy, and put one foot in front of the other.

We can do hard things my friends.  We can do hard things.  To God be the glory forever and ever amen.  In Sisters as it is in heaven....