The Climb

She was sore from the colossal weight she was carrying on her back. Her backpack seemed to be filled with leaden weights. Her hair, although in a ponytail, was plastered to her neck with perspiration, an irony if she considered just how frigid the air was. Teeth chattering slightly, and exhausted muscles straining and rebelling, she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, and not passing out right at the edge of the cliff she was climbing. The sheer drop downwards was frightening, and she was slightly nauseous in focusing on looking in the other direction. Her destination, the base camp, was just a score of meters away. She kept climbing. Focusing on finding and grabbing a handhold of a crevice in the cliff, she lost her footing for a second. And the exhaustion combined almost made her want to give up. But then, the thought of the view that was sure to meet her blossomed in her mind, the view that she was sure to meet when she reached her goal was breathtaking enough to go on. She could hear encouraging yells emanating from the top. And she took pride in that. Carefully picking herself up, she managed another few steps. Fifteen…then Ten…and then Five. She was almost there, and she hoisted herself up to the top, and was met with bear hugs and triumphant yells. And as she immediately made her way to the side of the gorge, where the sheer precipice could be viewed in all its magnificent glory, she couldn’t help but think that it had all been worth it.