I’d been dreaming of summiting Mount Hood for years, and finally, the day had come. The climb was grueling, especially as we neared the top—high winds, thin air, and steep slopes tested my every limit. I was tired, every muscle sore, but the closer I got, the more determined I became.
The last few steps to the summit felt like they took forever. When I finally stood on top, looking out over the snow-covered peaks and valleys below, it was overwhelming. The view was breathtaking, but it wasn’t just the summit that mattered—it was the journey. Every challenge, every setback, every ounce of effort that led to that moment made the achievement feel so much sweeter.
As I stood there, I realized that the summit isn’t just a physical destination—it’s a mental victory. The climb taught me about perseverance, trust, and the strength we have when we push beyond our limits.
Has anyone else had a summit experience that changed you? What’s the hardest part for you: the climb or the final push to the top?