We rose early and climbed hard and steadfast in our march to the top of the mountain.
The trail was steep and full of natural perils that sought to sweep us off of our feet and cast us below. But we persisted as we did, and then, and found ourselves at the base of their thrones. We scrambled up and down and up again, but fell short of attaining their glory, not because we lacked heart or because our wits had left us, but because the final rise was treacherous and beyond our mortal grasp…bottom line, essentially, is that there was ice in the hand- and foot-holds, the rocks were slippery as hell, and we didn’t know whether or not we were actually in the right place and were not, collectively, ready to lose our limbs or lives climbing up the hill and finding no thrones.
But it was fun, nonetheless, and taxing, too, and truly beautiful beyond compare, up there, almost at the top of our world…and we climbed Mount Olympus.