I never would’ve signed up for that, but I’m so glad I did it.
While Laurie and I were in Alaska, we spent two days in Denali. Most of Denali we found very touristy and not that fun. But a friend of mine who is a Tour Guide in Alaska recommended that we do this helicopter/hike tour. So we signed up for that.
We got in the helicopter, (which in and of itself was very very fun and cool) and flew around for about 15 minutes, into the Alaska Mountain Range. As we were flying around, frighteningly close to rocks and outcroppings and mountains, all of a sudden the pilot banks hard to the left, and we get the most glorious view of Denali, the highest peak in North America. (Also known as Mount McKinley.)
Only about 30% of the people that visit this area get to see it because apparently it kind of creates its own weather system, and it’s kind of shy so it typically clouds itself in. We got lucky and had a gloriously clear view of it from the helicopter. WOW!
I hear our Tour Guide Jeff and the pilot talking about where we might go and they agree on a place. We fly along and he’s pointing out rocks and plants and Dall sheep trails from the helicopter, and all of a sudden, I notice the copter is flying precariously close to a certain rock outcropping. Then I realize…he’s landing.
Landing on a small grassy flat area between two small peaks with very steep drop-offs on either side. And I realize, he is dropping us off.
My legs start to shake. We left the safety of the helicopter.
I am not technically afraid of heights…but I learned that day I am apparently afraid of plummeting to my death.
As the helicopter left us there, I looked around. I could not see any trails.
Then I see a 10-inch-wide trail made by Dall sheep. And realize, THAT is what we are going to walk on. On one side of this 10 inch wide trail, there is a steep hill going up and on the left side, there is a steep hill going down with lots of loose rock. If I was to lose my footing and fall, I probably wouldn’t have died, but I would have slid down for a very long time with a very challenging climb to meet back up with the group.
Meanwhile, Jeff, our Tour Guide was jumping around like he was half mountain goat, running up and down the trails as though it’s a wide open field. The other two people on the tour were 20-something goddesses from Norway who clearly spent their lives also trotting around in the mountains.
And then there was Laurie and me, two middle-aged broads convinced we were not going to make it.
I kept looking back at Laurie, eyes wide mouthing “I’m terrified!” and her mouthing back “Me too! What the —!”
It was the most uncomfortable I had been in a very, very long time.
When we first got out of the helicopter, and I looked at the trail. I couldn’t believe that Jeff had brought us here. I was clinging to the upside of the hill, carefully measuring every step and thinking to myself, “I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. Why did he bring us here? This is terrible. I can’t do this”.
Then I thought to myself, “You don’t have to do this. The helicopter can come back and get you.”
At first I thought “YES!” and was about to ask Jeff to get the helicopter back here to take me off the mountain.
That was an option…and I seriously considered it. But Temsco helicopter tours is not in the business of losing tourists off the side of the mountain. If Jeff can do it, and the goddesses can do it, and Jeff thought we could do it, we will probably be OK.
I wasn’t having a fitness problem.
I was having a fear problem.
I found myself panicking…
• How long is this trail?
• Will this get easier?
• How long will this hike be?
Finally, I said to myself something that I’ve said to myself before. Something that I’ve said to other people before.
JUST WORRY ABOUT THE NEXT STEP!
When we were climbing Kilimanjaro in 2024, and one of my fellow climbers was freaking out on summit day. She didn’t think she was going to make it. I asked her, “Can you just take 10 more steps?” She said yes. I said “OK just take 10 more steps…and then take 10 more steps and then repeat as long as you can.” Here’s a picture of us at the top of Kilimanjaro.
I was doing a half marathon with a dear friend, and it was her first experience running 13.1 miles. She understandably had doubts as to whether she would be able to complete it. At about mile seven she was starting to get tired and her legs were starting to hurt. She said, “I don’t know if I can do this”. We had six more miles. I said, “don’t worry about the next 6 miles. Let’s just walk to the next mile marker and see how you’re doing.” And so we did. When we got to mile marker eight I said, “Can you do one more mile? “She said yes. And we just worried about the next 5 minutes. Or the next mile…and here’s a picture of her with her medal. (It says 10K because they ran out of half marathon medals! Aargh!)
So often our anticipation of how hard something is going to be, talks us out of what is possible. Whether it’s a physical endeavor, or a hard thing at work or in life, the anticipation is often worse than what actually happens, and it’s definitely worse than the present moment.
If we can remain in the moment and just deal with the next step, most of the time…
It’s much much easier to get through.
So, on the tundra behind Jeff and the goddesses, I said “Anne, don’t worry about the rest of the trail. Don’t worry about whether it gets easier. Don’t worry about how long this hike is. Just worry about the next step.”
In that moment, it was literally a survival tactic… But it was also a calming tactic. “Just focus on the next step.”
We ended up having an amazing tundra hike, learned a lot about the Flora and Fauna of the Alaska mountain range, and were really impressed with our ability to overcome the fear we had in that moment.
So next time you find yourself, reaching too far into the future and freaking out, look down and just focus on the next step.
And it helps to periodically turn around and stare at your friend in disbelief that you’re actually doing this, and you’re actually surviving it. It’s a whole lot easier to suffer through this stuff with somebody else.
So don’t do it alone, and just take the next step Tiger.
