Water—an essential element of life, a simple molecule consisting of just two atoms of hydrogen and one of oxygen. We live in a world of water, and that fact was evidenced by our group of six middle-aged female alpine trekkers last month.
We spent most of our second day’s hike in the rain. It was the hardest and longest hike, lasting fifteen miles and having about a 4000 foot elevation gain. The rain actually made the trek more pleasant at times, washing away our sweat. We were united as a group as conversation flowed, and we took on the elements together.
The day started with a propitious rainbow at sunrise, just as the mountain tops glowed tangerine. After filling our backpack bladders with cool, fresh water from the town’s trough and checking the forecast, we set out in our rain gear. And were quickly met with fog and mist—the kind of mist that lightly kissed our faces. It turned into a harder rain as we entered a deep forest of evergreens and moss, where Hansel and Gretel surely lived. The forest gave cover for the precipitation, but when we emerged onto a meadow, the wind began blowing, and the rain pelted our faces with tiny arrows. As it picked up, we kept our heads down and trudged on. Because we were in this together, though, our spirits remained high.
The day also blessed us with sunshine. We sat in the sun by a turquoise waterfall, frigid water rushing over a tumble of rocks, and ate a simple lunch of meat, cheese, bread, and fruit.
At a section of the trail that was to lead us around the edge of a lake, there were barriers and warnings not to pass. Our leaders looked at their maps and decided on an alternative route, one that followed a road up the mountain to Grimsel Pass, our destination. Walking single file, in the drainage ditch on the side of this narrow two lane road, we made our way through a steady rain, now somehow refreshing and annoying at the same time.
The rain continued as we approached the last section of the trail, a series of steep hairpin turns through heavy fog. We were wet, cold, and exhausted when distant thunder began rolling around the mountains. The trail itself was flowing with water as the falling rain made its way over the rocky path. We stopped often to drink from the water we carried in our packs, and to breathe, our exhalations like small clouds. The friendly banter dissipated. The only spoken words now came from our leaders, offering encouragement.
By the end of the trek, our perspiration mingled with the rain, our feet were wet with both, and our limbs were liquid with fatigue.
At Grimsel Pass, we revived ourselves with rounds of hot chocolate and congratulations.
That day was a day of water, in many forms: water stored as cloud and fog, rain as drizzle and downpour, rivers and streams and waterfalls and lakes, water ingested, sweat on our bodies, rivulets on the trail. We were one with the water for most of the day. Our human bodies are made up of mostly water, but on this day, our bodies were also part of the larger world of water; immersed, enveloped, and buoyed by it.
Kind of like our group of women—immersed, enveloped, and buoyed by community.