Moments of Grace
On the rocky cliffs of a Colorado peak, a group of wounded warriors discover the soothing powers of nature.
Disabled veterans discover the soothing powers of nature.
In 2017, a year after a medical discharge from the Air Force and after years of treatment for posttraumatic stress disorder, I felt restless. I was studying to become a therapeutic riding instructor, but I was searching for something more to challenge me physically and psychologically. Then I found No Barriers Warriors, a program that helps veterans with disabilities experience the rugged outdoors at no charge.
Erik Weihenmayer, the first blind person to summit Mount Everest, co-founded the program, which offers different options depending on a person’s physical abilities. I was selected to climb the 13,370-foot Mount Guyot in Colorado. I was ecstatic and afraid because I wouldn’t be able to bring my wife, Leanne, or my service dog, Aniko.
I was worried that no one would recognize when I was struggling, as Leanne could, or bring me back from “over there” like Aniko did.
But when I arrived in Denver and was introduced to the No Barriers Warriors staff and the other vets, I felt at ease. It was refreshing to be around others like me.
That afternoon we were driven to Frisco, where we spent the night after staff provided gear and taught us basic climbing skills. The next morning I awoke and walked out of the hotel, gear in hand, to one of the vans awaiting our team.
The mountains towering over us were so close that a brisk wind from the snowcapped peaks chilled the morning air and sent shivers down my spine. A deep breath of the cool moist air filled my lungs and soothed my fears.
After an extended drive, we reached the trailhead, grabbed our gear and set off into the woods. Along the way we got to know one another as we shared our stories. During the ascent we overcame some physical and psychological hurdles, which drew us closer and made us a team.
We were near the summit when the guides told us that the amount of snow atop Mount Guyot was too deep and unstable for our group to safely climb.
Though we were disappointed, we forged on to Georgia Pass, which sits near the Continental Divide in Mount Guyot’s shadow.
Atop Georgia Pass, the air was thin and the temperature frigid. The wind hummed a soft melody as it blew over the little vegetation that clung to the rocky surface. It was in that spot that 10 warriors and four team leaders gathered in celebration. We didn’t reach the intended peak, but we had reached a place of comfort and satisfaction.
It was clear to me that by the grace of God I was alive—I had made the journey, conquered what portion of the mountain I could, and I was still standing. And I knew that I never could have done it without the support of my team.