Below is an excerpt from Suzan’s Next Book to be Released in 2012:
Partners at P.L.A.Y! Peace, Love, and Acceptance of Yourselves After 40
The Longest Aisle
by: Suzan Tusson, CPCC
Copyright 2000-20011. All Rights Reserved.
In a blanket of darkness, with my full-length wedding gown crammed into my backpack, I squeezed the hand of my fiancé, Jim. Then we took our first steps up the aisle. I never thought that on my wedding eve, I’d be covered in bug spray with a flashlight strapped to my forehead.
We were about to climb Mount Whitney, the tallest mountain in the contiguous United States, to get married at the summit at sunrise. With the promise of a full moon to light our path, and a wedding party to accompany us – a surge of energy raced through me.
Our hearty group included Forrest, the minister; Eric, the best man; Marianne, the best woman; John, my brother; and Dean, the usher. To prepare, we trained every weekend for three months. During one of our training outings in the local mountains Eric said, “I’ve heard of wedding rehearsals. But you two expect a lot from your wedding party. Your activities last all summer long.”
As my brother and I traipsed side by side, a stir of leaves caught my attention. “John, do you see the deer?” I whispered. This animal, with eyes gleaming like headlights, did not dash away. It gazed at us as if we were the curious creatures.
The night stillness, the pungent pine and the glow of moonlit shadows upon the stunning, white boulders captivated me. My feet seemed to levitate above this sacred ground as petals of moonlight ushered me up the trail. Then I imagined the rustling wind to be Mother Nature murmuring Canon in D, the royal wedding song.
Soon I took the lead. I no longer heard voices so I leaned against a boulder to meditate on the face in the moon. Do you have any messages for me?
Resting in the night calm, my mind drifted back to the day we decided on this wedding adventure. Avid hikers, Jim and I had talked a lot about hiking Whitney. One day while out trekking with Jim, I ran in front and pulled him toward me with his backpack straps. “I’ve got it. How about getting married at the summit. The experience might teach us a lot about marriage. You know – strength, endurance and commitment.”
Jim gripped his hands over mine and with a dazed expression asked, “Climbing it is strenuous enough. What if we don’t make it? Who will marry us?”
I threw some trail mix in the air. “Our wedding party can throw this at us when we waltz down the aisle as husband and wife. Think of it as an adventure – like marriage. We’ll be reminded to keep our partnership strong, exciting and moving forward.”
“A distant chapel in nature – I wonder if any other couples have done this?” Jim asked, as he squirted me with his water bottle.
The sound of laughter jarred me from my dream state. “Drink up kids, we’ve gotta hydrate for this climb,” said Dean. Everyone raised their water bottles for a toast.
As we moved above the treeline, we were surrounded by moon-like rock craters and desolate spaces. I listened for nature sounds yet only heard a profound silence. I missed the sharp pine scent and the comforting sounds of swaying branches. Ice edges had formed around the puddles along the path. Shivering, I reached into my backpack for more layers. The temperature had plunged below freezing.
Soon afterward we noticed that my brother had fallen behind so we waited. From around the bend, he staggered toward us.
“John, are you OK?” I asked. He didn’t respond – only his teeth chattered.
I’d never seen him this vulnerable. As I helped to carry John’s limp body over to the side – I thought about how fragile our lives are. One minute we can be the epitome of health and the next, barely recognizable to our loved ones.
With clenched teeth, I held back my tears and almost forgot to breathe. As the much older sister who encouraged John to take this hike, I felt as if I’d become the fatality of a run away boulder. I bore the pressure and pain of a guilt-ridden body. “What if he doesn’t make it?” I thought. I grimaced and then scolded my mind for stirring up such fear.
We huddled together to shelter John from the brisk wind and replaced his sweaty clothes with all of our dry ones. Jim placed a hand warmer on his belly, a wool scarf on his head and wrapped an emergency blanket around him.
I hugged John close while Marianne massaged his legs. “Please drink more water,” I repeated.
Why had he not taken better care of himself? Didn’t he know to dress warmer – to hydrate his body for an over 14,000 foot climb? Hadn’t we communicated this well enough to him? These thoughts tormented my mind. I felt responsible for my brother as I gazed at his feeble frame on my lap. John was suffering from dehydration and hypothermia.
Before the hike I had prayed that we’d deepen our connection during our journey. I longed to know my younger brother better. I had no idea it would turn out like this. Just like life, we wound up on another path than anticipated. I bet marriage will be like that too, I thought.
Three hours later, after consuming more than a gallon of water, John inched his way up. Handing me the emergency blanket, he mustered a partial smile and then hugged me with a strong grip. “Thanks. I’m fine now – Let’s go,” he said.
I wiped under my eyes with my liner gloves realizing that this time he hadn’t patted my back. That hug felt real. Then I allowed the tears to release and leaned on John for support. Before long, our group formed a hugging circle to share our gratitude and warm up before the next major ascent.
“Now the hike gets fun, we’ll climb 1700 feet in two miles,” said Eric.
How are we going to get up all these switchbacks? I wondered. Side-stepping numerous streams of water from the snow run off frightened me as I slipped once more on the ice over to the edge inches away from an unrecoverable fall.
Trying to focus my weary steps consumed me. I almost didn’t notice the eastern sky’s masterful unveiling. I paused to roll my eyes heavenward. Owens Valley awakened with a deep red, penetrating glow. I watched the yellow fireball gradually emerge. The now orange sky blended in with the sapphire blue clouds hovering overhead. Patches of pale blue sky played peek-a-boo above. Daylight unveiled cathedral-spire rock formations surrounded by shimmering blue lakes.
“Okay, 96,” I panted. “97 – the last switchback. We made it,” I yelled. I threw off my baseball cap and almost lost it as the wind picked it up.
Resting against my backpack, I dangled my boots over the ledge and breathed in the robust morning air. The brown falcons cavorting across the sky absorbed my attention.
“So much for a sunrise wedding. But I still have one to perform. Care to join me?” asked Forrest.
The familiar trudge forward began along narrow trails that twisted through rock spires overlooking Mirror Lake, with a crystal image of the mountain upon its surface.
I couldn’t believe I’d be married in less than two hours. My skin felt clammy. Is this from the climb or am I having the jitters? Feeling the new day cling to my skin, I removed some clothing. Lighter, I picked up speed as if I’d sprouted the wings of an eagle. Silhouettes of others appeared far away except for John ahead.
“I made it.”
“It’s not over yet, We have another 500 feet – straight up,” said John.
“I don’t see a trail,” I said.
“There isn’t one.”
I rock scrambled on boulders with crevices large enough to fall into. My cramped legs could barely lift. One step at a time – like life, I thought.
Reaching the summit, the clouds seemed close enough to touch. Aquamarine lakes glistened and ridges of mountains jutted out below me. Layers of white granite graced my feet. I breathed in the smell of victory, dirt, sweat and a chalk like odor from the rocks.
Glancing around, I noticed that we’d have wedding guests. How did they get here first?
“Suzan, are you ready?” asked Jim. He took my cap off to brush through my hair with his dusty hands. Grasping his shoulders, I gazed into his blue eyes, the color patterning the sky, with the look of ‘Yes.’
I wiped the tears from my eyes. “It’s that time,” I said.
I carried my bag over to a stone hut used for geological surveys – now my ‘bridal chamber.’ I placed all my bridal gear inside and then went to select our wedding altar.
I found a private stone slab with an astounding backdrop. Great for wedding photos, I thought. “Jim, How is this for our wedding chapel?” I yelled.
He rushed over. “Cathedral spires are perfect.”
I ran back into the ‘bridal chamber’ and attempted to comb my hair. It felt like hair that had driven across the country in a convertible.
I leaned out of the room. “Eric, can you get Marianne for me? I need her help.”
Marianne completed the hike and had just crawled over to a rock to rest her head on the quarry when Eric yelled, “Marianne, Suzan needs you.”
“Can’t she put on her own dress and make-up?” asked Marianne, her fingers clinging to the sides of the rock.
Marianne found me with one leg in my dress leaning against the wall for support. “I’m getting married,” I whispered.
“How can I help?” She attached the romantic tulle fabric around the dress and tucked my ponytail underneath the veil. We then heard, “Are you both ready? Let’s go,” through a crack in the door.
“Almost,” I yelled. I tried to still my twitching hands.
I emerged from the hut in my full-length gown covered with lace, tulle and rhinestones with my blistered bare feet and cherry red toenails. A crowd of nearby hikers cheered.
Marianne held her plastic yellow flowers and Eric’s arm as they approached the wedding slab. John tucked my arm into his. We crossed the jagged rocks with deliberate steps as hikers in the background sang, Here Comes the Bride .
Though covered in goose bumps, I tried to ignore the cold. As I neared Jim on the ledge, I thought I could hear his heart pumping with a wild, brisk motion – like mine.
Then I noticed that Forrest had the chalice and an incense holder behind him – a warning signal if he stepped too close to the ledge. After lighting sage and dangling it amongst us Forrest began, “Holy Spirit rejoice with us as we enter this ‘sacred and humorous’ event.”
Eric shared a poem about friendship, “it offers a foundation to build an enduring relationship.” Who are we without our friends, I reflected.
From a special goblet, we shared the water of life, ‘the sacred liquid that connects us all.’ Forrest asked everyone to share their commitment with us, as we would need their ongoing support for our marriage to thrive. “We do,” resounded from the summit.
“And now for the sharing of the vows that the two have written for one another. Jim.”
“At this most sacred of moments as we stand as close to Heaven on Earth as possible, I choose to enter into our sanctuary, to let my spirit shine, and our love flow, to walk side by side with you now and throughout our eternity…”
“Suzan.”
“My Mother always said that the best thing that anyone can ever do in life is to make memories. Let’s promise one another to make memories like this one – every step along our paths together…” “Kleenex box please,” said Marianne, wiping the sleeve of her parka. The wedding party passed a toilet paper roll back and forth.
Bubbles blown by our wedding party burst around us as we walked down the rocky aisle as husband and wife. “When does the bride kissing start?” asked Dean.
“That’s what I want to know,” said Jim.
Marianne jumped up to catch the plastic flowers during the bridal toss. “Give me that wedding dress and veil right now,” she shouted.
Eric broke out some chocolate liquor candies for our reception. Jim and I waltzed, stopping only to exchange long, delicious kisses. We heard Dean’s camera snap away as he traipsed after us.
“I hate to break this up but we’ve got champagne to uncork below,” Eric said.
I sauntered over to the changing room to replace my flowing feminine gown with smelly, same-old hiking attire. We still had a long journey ahead having only trained to hike up Whitney. “Where is that helicopter?” asked Marianne.
Starting down, my achy muscles began a subtle dialogue that grew louder by the minute. Wild flowers, blue lakes and massive rock formations all blended into one colorful pattern. Other hikers greeted us on their way up. “Any wedding cake left?” News spreads quickly, although we were easy to spot with our Newlyweds caps on.
“Suzan please walk faster,” Jim urged.
“You’re lucky I’m walking at all. My feet feel a size larger.”
Then I stopped to pull my watch out of the pack. “It’s 7:PM. Our wedding reception began without us. How much longer?”
Jim shrugged his shoulders.
For the last couple of miles I crawled like a beetle on its back. I forced my feet forward and my five-foot-two 100-pound frame to lug my 40-pound backpack. All the boulders on Whitney had to be inside. With a surge of back pain, I plopped it on the ground. “I’ll carry it the rest of the way,” Jim volunteered.
“Thanks. I’m so glad I married you. But we’ll have two miles to get to camp when this trail ends. I still won’t make it.”
“My family will be there,” Jim said.
“It’s 8:30PM. I doubt they’d wait five hours,” I said.
As we rounded the corner, several of Jim’s family members walked toward us clapping.
“Thanks,” I said, my eyes brimming with tears.
“What did I tell you,” said Jim.
The next morning, after lengthy good-byes, I smiled at the distant face of Whitney from the pool patio of our motel in Lone Pine. My new husband slept next to me on the chaise lounge with a Tom Clancy novel on his chest.
I rubbed my eyes determined to keep them open, and reached for my journal to capture Whitney’s insights on life and marriage.
Life and marriage will present obstacles, like all the boulders I just climbed over and around. Although Whitney may not offer the longest walk or the highest climb I’ll ever experience; it has taught me that by having the tenacity to place one boot in front of the other and move forward, I can surmount any challenge.
I’ve been reminded through the painful experience with John to nurture myself first and then, my relationships with family and friends. I’m more available for others when I’ve first taken the steps to create a centered, whole life for myself. This wisdom will also help me to grow in my marriage. By striving to be my best self, I have more to offer Jim.
Having successfully climbed up the longest wedding aisle in history, I’m now thinking about how we’ll renew our vows in ten years. Hmm. Mount Kilimanjaro?
Copyright 2000-2011, Suzan Tusson, CPCC
