When your alarm goes off at 3am, you want it to be for something exciting. You don’t want your first reaction to be a pit of terror falling into your stomach. But that’s how my day began.

For the final day of our honeymoon, we had decided to hike at Mount Storm King in Olympic National Park. It was a hike that promised incredible views, but not without anything in return. The first challenge would be to hike two miles straight up – no places to take a break, & no level ground to give you a chance to catch your breath. I knew this part would be challenging, but I was more worried about the second challenge – a trek beyond the maintained trail, to where fellow hikers had set up ropes to help you climb to a rock scramble, which would then take you to the top of the mountain.

As I said in my post yesterday, I do not like heights. I like my two feet firmly planted on solid ground. I enjoy hiking to beautiful, high viewpoints, but I always stand away from the edge where I know my feet won’t slip. So the idea of scaling the side of a mountain with a rope that wasn’t maintained by the official park system terrified me. 

Joseph was not afraid at all. Despite the early hour, he bounced around our Airbnb with excitement about the upcoming hike & the incredible view we were going to get of Crescent Lake. Not wanting to make him miss out of the experience, I packed my hiking gear & we headed out to the truck.

The stars in northern Washington are amazing. I gazed up at the night sky as we drove, soaking in their beauty. They provided a great distraction for the majority of our drive, but as we neared the park, my nerves intensified to the point of frightened tears. 

I truly wanted to face my fears, & I did not want to disappoint Joseph, so I still insisted we do the hike. We were just about to leave the truck when Joseph frustratedly discovered that our headlamp had died. Walking up the narrow path in complete darkness with just a flashlight was not an option because there would be times we needed our hands free for assistance with climbing. I suggested we wait a little longer for the sun to get just below the horizon, so by the time we would need the headlamp, the world would be lighter. Joseph agreed, & we spent the next half hour gazing up at the stars in the bed of the truck, huddled together to fight against the cold.

When it came time to go, I led the way with the flashlight while Joseph trailed closely behind. Hiking in the woods at night is spooky no matter where you’re headed, so it certainly didn’t help that my nerves were already intensified by our destination. We kept the conversation going to calm our anxious minds, & to potentially discourage any wildlife from getting too close.

Luckily, the sun began to rise not long after we started, & we heard another group of hikers not too far away. It is always encouraging to know you are not alone on potentially dangerous trails. 

Despite the difficult grade, the trek up the mountain wasn’t too bad. It passed by quickly with games & conversation. My breath was heavy, but my legs had been conditioned from marathon training & the last few days of hiking, & they carried me up the trail without any trouble. 

The sign “End of Maintained Trail” came sooner than I expected. I had almost forgotten what was to come, but as soon as I saw those words, the pit of fear dropped back into my stomach & I felt instantly nauseous.

We carefully stepped beyond the sign & began hiking upwards, watching our feet carefully. I reminded Joseph that this part of the trail was not maintained by National Park Services, so we needed to be extra cautious about where we placed our feet. We could no longer trust that rocks & stones that looked well traversed were trustworthy. At any moment, they could slip, taking us down with them.

I had thought we would arrive at the ropes quickly. I was unaware we had to hike to them, & it was that hike that broke me. The trail was so narrow I could barely fit my two feet beside one another, & to each side, steep drops meant a perilous fall. We were 2,500 feet in the air, enough to cause anyone’s stomach to drop when looking over the edge. Hiking next to the edge, I felt like my stomach simply fell out of my body & down into the valley below.

Heart pumping, legs trembling, & breath shallow, I slowly shifted my feet to climb up the trail. Every few moments, I dropped to my hands & knees to catch my breath, calm my nerves, & carefully crawl over the rocks, trying to look anywhere but down.

Joseph led the way slowly & cautiously, encouraging me every step of the way. We made it a little less than a quarter mile before my body froze beneath me in fear. 

“How much farther is it to the ropes,” I asked. 

“I don’t know,” Joseph said. “Why don’t you wait here, & I’ll keep going to see if I can see them?”

“No! You can’t go alone!”

“I will be fine.” Joseph turned carefully & began hiking up the rocky slope.

“Please, please be careful,” I called out, & Joseph assured me that he would be. Camera slung over his shoulder, he stepped slowly up the mountain & out of sight, peering around to see the ropes. I waited with bated breath, my heart pounding, waiting to hear any sound of distress & trying to determine what I would do first if I did.

Joseph returned moments later, shaking his head.

“We’re done,” he said. “I can’t see the ropes, but it gets super steep. Let’s go back.” I breathed a shaky sigh of relief, & slowly scooted back down over the rocks, covering my backside in loose dirt. As a comfort to myself, I tend to talk nonstop when I am nervous, often telling jokes, so the next few minutes were filled solely with the sound of my musings on the dangerous hike. It wasn’t until we were safely back on the maintained trail that I stopped & gave Joseph the tightest hug I probably ever have.

“Thank you,” I said. “I wouldn’t have called it because I didn’t want to disappoint you, but I’m so glad you did. I was terrified.”

“It was scary,” Joseph admitted. 

“I know you probably would have done it if I hadn’t been there,” I said. “I’m sorry.” I felt ashamed. My own fear had held us back from an amazing view.

“I would have, but who knows what would have happened,” Joseph said. “I wasn’t afraid until I got up there. You didn’t see it, but it got super steep & sketchy, & it was at that moment that I realized something could happen. Up until then, I knew we could do it, but when I saw that trail, I realized there was a possibility that we couldn’t.” He paused. “I’m sorry that I made you come. I feel bad. I knew how scared you were, & I still made you come.” 

“No, I wanted to do it!” I said. “I just didn’t want you to be disappointed if I didn’t feel comfortable at the top climbing the ropes.” 

Much of the hike down was more of the same sentiments being shared repeatedly. We both were disappointed in our own actions, & we both equally wanted the other person to know that we were okay with what happened. 

It wasn’t until we were nearly down the mountain that I realized how important this hike had been for our marriage. Up until now, the honeymoon had been almost complete bliss. We had enjoyed every moment of traveling, & the lessons we learned during our trip were important for us to apply to our individual lives. But this hike had taught us a lesson for our marriage: The ultimate level of trust where we put our lives, including our safety, wants & needs, in each others’ hands. 

I was scared to do the hike, but I trusted Joseph would get me to the top safely. I got up early this morning, laced up my hiking boots, and followed Joseph up the mountain despite my fears, planning on never asking to turn around no matter how afraid I was. And when we got there, he proved that he would always look out for me by making the decision to turn around rather than risk falling. Today’s hike had challenged us to look out for one another’s best interests & safety, & despite the fact that we missed out on the view at the top, we were still together. Hand in hand, husband & wife, we both knew through all the great adventures we would have, the best view will always be us standing by each other’s side through all of the exciting & difficult mountain climbs. 

Our next stop was Seattle. Because of traffic, we arrived late at the city, so we had just enough time to grab lunch before running to the Space Needle. We went to the Starbucks Reserve, which did not disappoint. It was a bustling hub of creativity & inspiration. The smell of coffee hung in the air, & all around we could hear the sound of beans roasting & people talking excitedly. 

Joseph ordered pizza & a cinnamon roll for lunch, & I ordered a chicken & orange salad & a sourdough roll. For coffee, Joseph got a lightly sweetened & nutty hazelnut bianco latte, & I got my usual latte with almond milk. It seemed a little boring to get the same thing as always, but I knew I would love it, & the little milk foam heart on the top made it worth it.

For a fun experience, we ordered an espresso flight with truffles. It was much like a wine tasting, with two small cups of espresso & matching chocolate flavors to go with them. We popped the truffles into our mouths & took large swigs of the hot espresso to experience the full flavor profile, & I can honestly say, it’s some of the most fun I have ever had drinking coffee. Despite how rushed we were, I still took a moment to let the chocolate melt on my tongue & savored the creamy confection in created. 

We sped-walked from there to the Space Needle, arriving just in time for our elevator ride up to the top. The entirety of the top rim of the Space Needle is surrounded by glass tilted towards the ground below, so you have to do a bit of a trust fall to lean against it. Looking down on the world from that perch is exhilarating. We both knew if the glass wasn’t there, it would be a nasty fall, but from where we were, we had the best view of Seattle, unobstructed by anything but clear glass that we could barely see even if we focused on it. 

We walked down the stairs to the level below, a room with a rotating glass floor. Stepping onto the clear platform & looking down at the ground below was even more disconcerting. The spinning room made both of us feel a little dizzy & nauseous, but we couldn’t resist staying for a few minutes to watch the ground move beneath us. 

Our next stop was Chihuly Garden & Glass. I had seen Chihuly’s art in the Fred & Pamela Buffet Cancer Center in Nebraska during my 4K for Cancer journey, & I have continued to periodically think about it over the last two years because of how incredibly beautiful it is. My awareness of blown glass art before witnessing Chihuly’s work was bowls & glasses sold at the Renaissance Festival. Chihuly created an entire garden for the patients at the hospital to enjoy, full of large, brightly colored flowers & intricate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. When I discovered that Chihuly had a gallery in Seattle, I knew it was a must-see experience.

My reward was seeing the look on Joseph’s face when we walked in. Just as it had been for me the first time I saw Chihuly’s art, Joseph’s jaw dropped & eyes widened as he took in the tall blown glass sculptures & intricate works of art. There is simply no way to encapsulate in words just how gorgeous Chihuly’s work is. Every piece is thoughtfully created, pieced perfectly together. It is intricate art, lovingly created by someone who is clearly a master of his craft.

After exploring the gallery & watching a highly entertaining demonstration, we finally decided to call it a day. The quintessential Seattle rain had begun, & we walked through the streets in a light drizzle, our clothes getting wet but the chill never quite seeping through. We stopped by the original Starbucks as a testament to our love for its coffee & a nod to our souvenir of choice. Unfortunately, they did not have the mug we wanted in stock, but we knew we could get it another time. We ordered takeout sushi from Maneki, the oldest sushi restaurant in Seattle, & then headed to our Airbnb in Kent. 

Our host was delightful. She had set out a bottle of sparkling cider & chocolates for us to enjoy, & she kindly let us use her backyard patio & hot tub. We ate our sushi (which truly was the best I have ever had – never have the many different flavors in a roll melded so beautifully together) next to the fire & then dipped into the hot tub for a relaxing soak. We were both exhausted by this point, having been awake & on-the-go for 20 hours after an already sleep-deprived two weeks, so after fighting to stay awake for a few minutes in the hot water, we decided to retire for the evening & go to sleep.

The final day of our honeymoon adventures was exciting in so many different ways, but what I loved most about it was I felt that it helped us to feel ready for our journey home tomorrow, when our married life together will officially begin. The little trust fall (thankfully without actually falling) that we had on our hike this morning taught us more about what it means to be husband & wife, & the day beyond that point was filled with a renewed sense of unity & love that I hope will stay with us long after this adventure ends. 

The honeymoon has come to a close, but getting on that plane tomorrow means a lifetime of new adventures with the love of my life. For that, I would be willing to go on hundreds more terrifying hikes, as long as I have him by my side.