The Mountain and the Moon.
The forest wall towered on both sides of the car. Sunlight rhythmical hitting the windshield I knew soon the Corona Forestal would be not only behind me but below. This ascent always fills my heart with excitement.
Cloud descended, switching on the fog lights I eased off the accelerator, the road rumbled under me. Senses tingled, bends and switchbacks became part of my being. Rather than being scared of the thickening cloud, it held me steady with its ability to raise my awareness. With no safety barriers driving these roads provided the necessary gift of living in the now.
Without warning, it was gone. The bright blue sky and sun beamed through as I had never experienced it before, and really I never had experienced “this” before. Traveling the moonscape of the basin my soul filled with a larger sense of being, even though physically here, I was just a spec on this panoramic landscape.
Pulling over into a viewpoint car park, the mountain sprung from the earth, like it was holding up the sky. The flat plain at its base beckoned, so without a second thought, I walked toward the base of this peaceful volcano. The dust danced at my feet, while I studied the huge rock formations and bluffs that house my adventure. Smiling from the heart, I strolled the trail offering a content “Buenas Dias” to fellow pilgrims.
I soon found myself on harder volcanic rock, the type that could pumice warts off an alligator. Before finding myself on this adventure, I had been regularly running at high altitude, so my footing felt sure, and my lungs felt full. Suddenly, a fork the trail, walk another 500m up a small incline or scale the 50-metre bluff. Losing sight of the mountain some 20 min ago, I was keen to see if it was still there. Tightening the straps on my rucksack, I took some clean breaths, looked up, and followed my eyes.
The porous rock of the region provided many climbing routes to the summit of this modest cliff face. Also, as non-rock climber, there was a sense of relief that most routes graduated gentle into vertical. The climbing wall cooked by the midday sun I moved with light intent, matching my steps and holds with my breath. Nearing the top, crash..a foothold gave way, my heart jumped to my mouth as I looked down, thankful that both hands had a solid grip on the rock face. Sweating and a little breathless I regained my footing and kept moving. In that 2 second blip, every muscle in my body had been worked out. Breathing clean and moving forward prevented fear while removing self-doubt.
Resting at the top, I observed my path, noting the sunlight reflecting off my car windscreen about 2km away across the dustbowl. Sipping water, I smiled at fellow hikers passing by recognising similar excitement in their eyes for this grand landscape.
Now that was fun, let's get higher. Taking the cable car to the top of the mountain seemed a little lax for me, I like to work for my vision. Resting at a trail marker, I noted that some trails could take you to the other side of the basin. Heading south, I found the start of my journey.
The light graduation seemed too good to be true, but it did not take long before the trail got steeper and less defined. Hitting what seemed a dead end, I took a moment to gather my bearings and remove a layer of clothing; it was pretty warm up here for mid-January. Reviewing the map, this path should not have stopped here. The mountain, ever vigilant, watched. Observing myself, I realised that my thoughts had stopped. The moment held meaning for being just that, the moment. Hearing voices on the wind, I listened, they drew closer.
Bobbing up and down through the brush, a woman complimented her man on helping her climb “All the way up there!”. Noting their approach, I walk towards them, with a greeting smile and hello I was grateful to them for unknowingly helping me find my way once more. The trail, in parts, was deep in the brush so easy to overshoot.
Pleased to find momentum again I quickly gained altitude. With the brush clearing, looking up to the ridge, the path switched back and forth rapidly as the barranca got steeper. At the top, a cliff seemed to hold this basin closed with all its might. What was that? Something moved up there. A blue dot zig zagging downward at a steady pace, A fellow hiker if he is up there where did he come from or where has he been? I listened to the wind whistle through the needles of a lone evergreen hugging the rock face, enthused that the summit of this path holds something worth climbing for.
While the path got steeper, the drop of the barranca kept me alert. Although on a popular path, no one knew I was here so any injury could prove fairly difficult to deal with on my own. I swung around every few metres to review my journey; the sun lit up the basin while I began to be shaded by the cliff and cooled by the wind. The blue spec now had a face, an old hiker, calm in stature, nodded and smiled as he progressed knowingly toward the basin.
Finally, touching the cliff's cold wall, the trail, narrowed and weaved parallel above a treacherous drop. “No one comes up here to look at a cliff,” I said to myself. With loose rock giving way underfoot I took every moment in, every step here was vital and alive. Pausing briefly, I observed the old hiker resting by the same whistling evergreen I met on the way up. He too must have understood its song.
The shadow of the cliffside for a time-stretched forever into the distance, cornering a bluff, a column of light penetrated through onto the barranca below. Approaching, the sunlight was streaming through the man-sized gap in the cliff face. I walked toward the glaring light climbing higher.
Eyes adjusting, I cut through the rock. Pure white cloud banks sandwiched between the thick blue sky and the Barranco Eris de Carnero's wintergreen forests greeted me. The silence here was so loud; my breath was the only real vibration. Looking into the bright blue sky, a full moon hung over me. High up in the ozone, day and night are just labels.
The trail followed the ridge undulating and cresting with ease over the rocky terrain I took its lead. On my right hand, Mount Teide stood majestically, as always, while on my left the blue, white and green of the valley cradled me like a sleeping child. In all this magnificence and silence, there was nothing left except my being.
