An Ascent of Hubbert's Peak

As we hiked up the canyon the sun peaked over the horizon and blazed upon the tip of mountain. We didn't see it at the time. We had our heads down, watching the progress of our steps, intent on the good feeling of our journey. Fog partially obscured the peak as we conversed amongst ourselves.

The canyon wound above, over boulders, through stands of pines we moved upward. Our spirits were high and we didn't notice the passage of time or the expenditure of energy. The landscape we passed through was amazing, sublimely beautiful, fog-shrouded and darkly aesthetic.

Hubbert spoke up and pointed out a mountain above, but we couldn't see if as clouds roiled over the valley. He insisted it was there, but we dropped our countenances back to the journey at hand. The rocky terrain demanded our attention.

We crossed streams, navigated over boulders, surmounted deadfalls and plodded ever onward. Our conversations turned to the journey. Most were confident our journey would continue for the rest of our lives, we would survey and collect this country for as long as we could imagine. Others were content to continue on, hopeful that some easier passage would be found and we would find a promised land where we could finally rest. Still a few, including Hubbert, cautioned that there was a mountain ahead which we must surmount. And after the summit there would be a dark valley, a valley of shadows on the other side.

But the most influential of us, Hubbert's own contemporaries, scoffed and ridiculed those notions. On the other side of the journey, they insisted, was not a Valley of Shadows, but a Valley of Promise. Besides, there will be a pass, an easy route. How dare you bring down morale of the entire group?!

Eventually we noticed Hubbert was no longer with the party. A glance back down the canyon revealed a lone man, left behind, dejected, but looking far above our heads...

The journey beyond Hubbert's departure continually steepened. We climbed, at times using our hands, at times fighting to see each other through the increasing fog. We tied ourselves together at the behest of the leaders of the group. In fact, they were tying us together before we had a chance to protest. But it seemed best, to continue as one into the increasing storm.

On we journeyed. Upward into the clouds and angry skies. Our leaders pulled us along, destroying any talk of stopping or resting. We must go on. We must make progress.

And then in a moment of terror, as the clouds were stripped away, we found ourselves huddling on the pinnacle of a terrible mountain, the world dropping away all around us. We gasped, grapsed tightly to our safety ropes and demanded our leaders take away the terrible sight before us. We closed our eyes tight, and they pulled us onward, we could feel the expanse all around. And then they bade us open our eyes and we were back within the cloud, separated from that awful chasm. At last we were heading down, those in front assuring us that everything would be fine. Soon we would be in the Valley of Promise.

But the canyon ahead grows darker...