Mountains

Part of a railing in Philadelphia

I was reading Blazes and Cairnes, a blog.  I was struck by this post in which JF describes walking a section of the Appalachian Trail called Roller Coaster -- a section of trail with a reputation for being terrible.
How do we face a section of the trail of our life that promises to be difficult?  How do we attempt to climb a mountain that is in our way?  How do we blaze a trail through unfamiliar territory?  What is your approach?

• When approaching a mountain, do you look at the entire mountain and wonder how in the h*ll (pardon my English) you will ever make it to the top?  The mountain is too high, and you are convinced that you do not have the stamina, the knowledge or the desire to climb all the way to the top?  Does knowing how high the mountain is prepare you better for the climb?  Can you be more realistic that way?
• When you look at the mountain, do you avoid looking at how high it is, instead trying to decide how to take the first step?  Does this enable you to approach the mountain with confidence because your goal is only the first step?  Does this make you less realistic?  Is it hiding your head in the sand?
• Do you plan out your walk before you take the first step, ordering each piece of the trail in detailed goals?  Does this guide your way or does it mean you aren't prepared for the unexpected?
• Do you look for another, less steep way up the mountain?  Does this mean you are clever or are you running away from the challenge?

As you can see, I don't have the answer, but just a few questions.

In the post above, I especially liked his final phrase:

When I got to the Bear’s Den Hostel I realized that I had finished one of my best days on the trail. Tired, but not exhausted or defeated, I thanked the AT for another great day of hiking and I breathed in and out, knowing that it is enough to be present right where you are. (emphasis mine)

Sometimes we forget the joy of knowing that it is enough to be present right where we are.