THE VIEW FROM THE TOP

Ellis Matula ’27

Climbing up the snow-covered slopes of Mount Alyeska in Alaska, I experienced an explosion of sights and sounds of invigoration. I still remember the feeling of the tiny droplets splashing down on my upper lip, their cadenced beat dissolving into an irritating tickle as they trickle down my face. The cold biting air turns my nose into that annoying leaking faucet that keeps you awake at night—drip, drip, drip. My tissue supply had dwindled around 1000 feet and now my gloves, relegated to nose wiping duty, look like they are covered in a semi-frozen oil slick. Although I am disgusted by it, I have ceased to care. At first I hated this sensation, but now I embrace it. My nostrils feel like they are being power-washed, and the grunge of my accumulated twelve years is now being expelled. I return my attention to the crunch of my boots on the snow. My rubbery legs give me the stride of a toddler, wobbling and falling with each step into the dense snow. I watch the snow swallow my boots and resist my efforts to retrieve them. I fight with each step to lift the cinder blocks out of their frigid prison. I hear the scrunch of my family’s footsteps behind me, breaking first through the icy top crust and then finishing each footstep with a plunk. It is comforting knowing they are here with me. As I look around, I see a light mist of white powder creating the appearance of a snow globe. Snow-topped trees dot the landscape below us. An occasional hawk streaks across the sky, declaring its presence like it owns the mountain. We pass a barren tree with its roots spreading like a virus. It is surrounded by rocks, dotting the landscape like pepperoni on a pizza. I struggle to plow up the mountain against the howling wind. It clearly wants to keep me from the summit. My cheeks burn from the slap of the bitterly cold wind. The biting feeling is strangely invigorating, and I can see the summit in view, obscured by a delicate haze of snow like a face peeking out from behind a sheer curtain. Whistles hum across the sky as the rush of air forces its way through the crevices of nearby tree branches, creating a symphony with the rhythmic beating of my deep panting breaths. I suck in the thin air as deeply as I can, still feeling that I can never get enough of the much-needed oxygen. When we finally make it to the summit, I am exhausted, elated, and empowered. I take in the view of my conquest. As I stand tall on the apex of the mountain, I realize it is all downhill from here.