Around here we know a bit about mountains. It comes with the territory.
There is nothing like seeing a mountain up close and personal. Of course here in the East that's different than out West. Trust me. I've been on those balding rocks called the Rockies. Our eastern mountains are different. Covered with trees and laurel and dendron they do a damn fine job of hiding themselves. In a way they are like kids at Halloween. In another way, they are like a wonderful woman dressed to impress.
Climbing a mountain can be done in many ways. It's almost like making love to a woman. A lot depends on the initial approach. Slow and easy, follow the water. It comes from the wet creases of the mountain and trickles down in a stream. Follow it up to hidden sources. You'll note as you climb that the trees are the tough ones and even these show the travails of winter storms and hard winds.
Closer to the top the rocks are there staring you right in the face as you find yourself catching an extra breath. I remember climbing mountains at midnight. I know a stupid thing to do but oh the shadows of the trees and the glow of the rocks under the moonlight.
There isw one mountain I remember well. CH153. At least that is what the survey map called it. I found te marker on the top. I bet I'm one of the few that kicked leaves to find it. Odd thing about that mountain. I remember the old song about the bear that went over the mountain. Unless you go over it you don't get to see what's on the other side.
So what mountain stares at you?