Push to the Bush.

One step, two step, three step, four.

Five step, six step, seven steps more.

Eight step, nine step, ten to the bush.

Have to keep moving, push push push.

It was the song that kept me going that day, the ditty that kept me on track as I moved, slow as a snail, up the mountain and closer to the top.

Because there we were, on the Fourth of July, hiking the steepest and most challenging trail in Cooper Landing.

And yeah, we were struggling.

My sister and I led the way, having to stop at least every thirty seconds to catch our breaths and rest our aching muscles.

Losing momentum fast, we created a plan to help get us to the top, as it was evident we were all growing weary of this seemingly never ending mountainside crawl.

“See that bush there? Let’s hike to the bush and then take a break.”

Inspired by my last time up here, the idea was to find an object or a goalpost and hike to that spot and then rest. Last year, the goalpost was my friend. She would hike ahead and then stop and wait for me, as I came trudging along slowly behind her.

This year, our goalpost was a bush, to which we repeatedly joked, “push to the bush!”

And it worked. Our pushes to the bushes got us to the top and the view? Spectacular as ever.

Looking over Cooper Landing in all of its breathtaking glory, I took a glance back at the path we just took, the one that wound alongside the backside of this stately peak.

And what I felt was awe. Awe at our perseverance and admiration for our commitment to making it, for it was no easy task (and there was serious consideration of turning back around).

(our wobbly muscles, creaky joints, and sweat ridden clothes were proof of that)

And yes, it took us longer than we anticipated, sure.

As Braeden so kindly sums up the journey, “Don’t do it unless you want to kill yourself.”

While yes, it took us a few hours to hike a couple miles, what we saw during our push to the bush rest breaks made it all worthwhile.

We saw a marmot poking along across the hillside.

We watched a momma goat and her baby precariously balance the cliff face.

We laughed along with the singing bird that sounded as if she were mocking us and our efforts.

We spotted many of Alaska’s finest wildflowers scattered across the mountainside.

And of course we got to catch our breaths, which we so deliriously needed.

One step, two step, three step, four.

Five step, six step, seven step more.

Eight step, nine step, ten to the bush.