Sri Pada

Wake up time: 1:47 a.m. Darkness, but the had monsoon subsided, so that was good. Many, many stairs lay before us--more than 5,000, we were told. The concrete staircase was lit by fluorescent lights that went up and up until you couldn't tell if they were stair-lights or stars. Umbrellas in hand, we heaved and sweated our way upward, only stopping once at one of the many tea shops along the path. The moon looked on, one day past full, at once like a kind eye and a gemstone.

At the top of the sacred mountain there was a temple and a bell and a convenient array of public toilets. We got there around 4:30, with the constellations still visible and strange red lightning flashing on the horizon. After wishing on the bell, which was for wishes, we huddled in a blanket and looked for meteors. The wishes of others tolled across the forever-space of the hill country, our breath came as steam, and we waited for the sun.

When it came, it came spectacularly, bearing fake-looking rays and illuminating the cloud cathedrals that hovered over the jungle. Sri Pada is known for the shadow it projects at sunrise, and we marveled at the perfect triangle that lay to the West of the sacred mountain, a casually mystical tribute to Three. Then, after the trance was broken, we made our way downdowndown on legs of jello and consumed a deliciously expansive breakfast.

I'm not quite sure what it is about climbing mountains. There's something deeply human about the ascent, something alive and breathing that doesn't care about metaphors. I know very little about truth and I sure as hell don't know my mantra, but walking upward, putting one foot in front of the other, moving, threatening the sky... that's something that I could get behind.