King on the Mountain

Ever play "king on the mountain" when you were a kid? My brothers and I used to do it all the time. It didn't matter what "the mountain" was-- a pile of dirt, an actual hill, the back of the couch, a big rock-- we would scramble our way to the top and proclaim, "I'm the king on the mountain!" with our little arms thrust up in the air.

Well, in the big game of King on the Mountain, I finally concede victory to Scott, the eldest of the Olson siblings. Here's Scott on the summit of Mt. Hood early Tuesday morning:I'm not standing next to him because B and I turned around early. We got up to the area called "The Hog's Back" and we both decided to call it quits. Call us wimps, or pansies, or whatever you like, but we both weren't feeling it Tuesday morning. Scott, you win. You so win.

Some more shots from the climb:

In the snowcat ready for our ride up to the top of the ski lifts.By the light of three headlamps.......Scott in the back, then me, Bryan bringing up the team right behind Geoff.Those two black dots are Scott and Geoff, traversing The Hog's Back.The view up The Hog's Back, Geoff getting out the gear to rope Scott up.Scott, just below the summit, looking back down the south side of the mountain. Me, hiking back down.
The "quitters" unite for a photo before we start our descent. Like I've said so many times before, whatever we do, we do together.
Ever since Tuesday morning, I've been agonizing over my failed summit. It was supposed to be this great sibling moment for Scott and me. Braving the climb together, making our Naval submarine-bound little brother insanely jealous. But I wimped out, turned around, quit.

I'm normally a fairly hard-core girl-- I've summited Mt. Hood before, summited Mt. St. Helens, hiked the Wildwood trail, 32 miles end-to-end in one day, suffered through one excruciatingly long, wet 14 mile hike in the Trapper Creek Wilderness. But for some reason, after we stopped to eat just below the Hog's Back, I suddenly didn't want to be there. I wasn't tired-- I had actually slept really well scrunched in the back of the jeep. My body/muscles/joints felt fine-- contrary to popular belief, I am in pretty good shape right now. I just didn't feel right. My breath was getting super short and shallow, my head hurt, and to be perfectly honest, I was scared. I'm not sure of what because I knew exactly what to expect and trust Geoff completely to take care of us. I just didn't feel right.

I should really be proud of myself for knowing my limits and calling it when I did. But that little adventurous part of my heart aches.

I'm super proud of Scott. Just like he used to do when we were kids, he did something that made me think, "yep, that's my brother, that guy right there, the awesome one."