Por Sofia Rovirosa
A smattering of stars hangs cold and sharp in the New Mexico sky when I decide I will climb Mt. Wheeler. I move slowly. Watch the sky shift from soft pink to blue, then head up to the ski valley. It is already past eleven when I arrive at the trailhead.
The forests here are not like those of California. In the coastal woods, the scent is mossy and rich—delicious, with wet bark and the damp perfume of mushrooms. But here, in the Sangre de Cristos, the air carries the dry, fragrant breath of pinyon and juniper—almost incense-like.
I begin the climb. The snow deepens. The air thins. In the distance, the muffled crunch of footsteps—then, a man appears on the trail. Sixty, maybe older, with a gentle demeanor and a kind smile.
“You climbing to the top?” he asks.
“A ver,” I say.
“Me too.” He says back.
We climb together in silence. The trees begin to thin, and the wind comes harder now, sharp against our cheeks. The slope steepens. My breath grows ragged. My kind companion moves ahead, breaking trail. I follow in his footsteps, shin-deep in powder, hands frozen, nose dripping, lungs burning. There are moments when I want to turn back, and my mind floods with doubts.
But then, a thought rings clear and piercing as a bell. This is what is real. Just one more step. I take it—ten seconds at a time, counting, then looking up. The summit is still far. The wind stings. The sky is a blue so deep it feels like it could swallow me whole. My companion’s face—pink with cold, radiant with effort—tells me everything. This is what it means to be taught again how to pay attention.
To breathe.
To listen.
To place one boot in front of the other.
At last, we reach the top. He turns to me. Whether it is the wind or something else that wets his eyes, I do not know. But in this moment, we are quiet. A stranger and I—brief companions—wrapped together in the stillness of awe. The mountains, the woods, the high desert beyond us. All of it too vast to hold.
It is too cold to linger.
We descend.
We embrace.
We part ways.
Once again, I have been reminded: Pay attention.
The mountains are full of instruction.
Sofia is an adventuress, novice surfer, and long-haul road tripper with a soft spot for big skies, coastal mountains, and vast wildernesses. Born in New Mexico, she’s lived in Southeast Alaska, Washington, Northern Arizona, and now calls California home.