I had climbed for hours, navigating a treacherous staircase of boulders and tree roots comprising Tuckerman Trail. Several hikers wearing smiles passed me on the way down and I became more excited as the ridge line came into full view. A young family picnicked on some rocks; teenage boys recounted how they had skied the bowl just last month; and an older man, clad in wool overhauls and suspenders, slowly and deliberately continued to climb as I went by.
Over the next week I conquered several other trails and peaks and now realize that it was the trek, the time alone on a magical journey, which touched me. Seeing people amidst such natural splendor, at peace and harmony with the world, reminded me that God is always there to guide us no matter what path we take. Sure, I was disappointed about missing out on that peak, but in life as in travel, the road to success is not measured by how far you go or climb but, rather, by the stops along the way.