by Shawna Blake

Created on: November 12, 2008   Last Updated: December 23, 2008

Recently I gave in to my sister's pleas and traveled from my home in Ohio to her home in Kodiak Alaska. Yes, Alaska. My youngest sister is stationed there with her husband who is a proud member of the Coast Guard, their two young children, and our father. For eleven days I was to spend my hard earned vacation on what I considered an adventure of a lifetime. When I say adventure, I am not referring to the part about flying either, which is a story for another time. Before I went my sister and I made many plans over the telephone, and one of her great idea's was for me to "conquer the old woman". Silence filled the line as I pondered what in the heck she meant by that! She told me that the 'old woman' was in fact the nickname for one of the mountains nearby, and as it was fairly tame, I should be able to handle the hike. Now, I have hiked before, plenty of times, even uphill and through creeks and deep, dark woods, even mountains. But nothing could have prepared me for the 'old woman'.

In Alaska the days are often chilly, dark, rainy, overcast or downright cold. During my stay there happened to be very many sunny days, which my sister was quite thankful for. On one of these days, we decided to take advantage of it and do some conquering. So, my sister, me, and our two friends Dora and Rachel loaded up into the SUV and headed down to the 'old woman'. It was a beautiful day, the perfect weather for a nice mountain hike. We took sweatshirts tied about our waists in expectation of a chill, and wore sweatpants and tee shirts. This was obviously a popular hiking trail, because the trail itself was very worn. Our hike started out very well, with a long straight path that was not steep at all. I imagined that this was going to be a piece of cake. At the first small clearing we stopped to gaze out at the vast shining blue ocean and the gorgeous, lush mountain that was off to the side of us. While trudging up the path, it did not occur to me that the mountain I was hiking upon was roughly the same size as the grand one to my right. It was.

The path got steeper, muddier, rockier, and wetter the further we went. That was the day that I learned I was not exactly physically fit for mountain climbing. My legs began to burn, my chest heaved, and my body was covered with a thin veil of sweat. Needless to say, I was taking up the rear of our hiking group, with the two professsionals leading and my sister lagging behind them to ensure I would stay with the pack. I kept gazing up

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