The first 50 metres were hell. Huffing, puffing, legs burning, climbing higher and higher. I remember someone saying "Oh God" to which I replied: "We're coming to see you". I climbed and I climbed - the air became cleaner, softer. I conquered fears I never knew I had. I reached my destination two hours after I left the base of the mountain - Pulpit Rock, or Preikestolen in Norwegian. I knew then why I had climbed, why I had braved the slippery rocks and heights. In front of me lay Pulpit rock, jutting out over the fjord that flows below it. People were lying on top of it, legs over the sides, enjoying the sun that had appeared from behind the clouds, legs dangling over the edge. If they had looked, they would have seen 600 metres down to the blue water below them. I climbed further up and laid down on the warm Norwegian rocks from where I had a clear view up to the sky. From a few metres away I heard Johnny say "Look! The plane is flying lower than where we are!" I felt the peace that comes when the mind is clear.
As I began the descent, I was thankful that we arrived at the top before the masses did . There was not enough room there for both them and my thoughts. 45 minutes in to the climb down Marie and I stopped at a stream on the mountain. Lisa, Chris and Johnny had gone ahead, so it was just us. She climbed further down in to the crevice through which a mountain stream flowed and we filled our bottles with the fresh water. Never have I tasted anything so clean, so sweet. The sun pounded on my back and I drank and drank the fresh water of the Norwegian mountains. We filled our bottles once more and continued our climb down from the heights of Pulpit Rock.

It was the spiritual experience I had been lacking this summer and it renewed my senses. I would have wanted to share it with come of my friends who weren't there, but I'm ready for next time.

All I can say is that if I could have jumped in to the blue water of the fjord
below, I would have. It would have freed me.