It was a 40 degrees Celsius day, and we had just embarked on our first day of the Overland Track in Tasmania, Australia. For those who don't know what the Overland Track is, it is a 5-6 day hike of approximately 74 kilometres (excluding side tracks).
The first day of the hike includes the (optional) climb of Cradle Mountain. Cradle Mountain is not like your average mountain; it consists of boulders that get larger toward the top.
At one point, the boulder that I needed to conquer before going any further was bigger than me, and it was physically impossible for me to climb it on my own. We were getting quite close to the top at this stage, which meant that the cliff face was quite a lot steeper than earlier. It also meant that it would be a huge shame to turn back now after coming so far.
Fear set it. The only way I could get up over this boulder was to rely on someone else, which meant putting my life in someone else's hands. It would mean placing my hands in someone else's who was already up there, dangling my feet in the air, and have that person pull me up. One slip, one mistake, one ANYTHING,... and my life was over.
My instincts told this was a bad idea, and I announced that I would not be going any further. My friend put the pressure on me to continue, and assured me I would not die. Again, my head told me that this promise was not fool-proof, and that anything could happen.
The pressure placed on me was so intense. My fear grew, and I soon began to sob. The situation remained the same for a good ten minutes, although, at the time, it felt a lot longer. It became apparent to me that this situation was not going to resolve itself without me taking that step.
I still don't know how I did it, but I somehow mentally prepared myself to take the risk by accepting the possibility of my own, very painful, death.
I put my hands in his, closed my eyes, and said "Go!". I felt the pressure as he began to pull, and my feet left the ground. I was now mid-air with my life in the hands of someone else. The fear never left me, although I remained calm as my body was elevated onto the ledge.
It only took a few seconds and I was safe on firm ground again. I sat there, overwhelmed at what I had just been through, both physically and mentally. Again, I sobbed. This time with relief.
I continued the climb, and I made it to the summit. I also made it safely back down, and somehow I felt like a different person.
Being raised by parents who kept me in bubble-wrap, I had adopted their ways through life, and was afraid to do many things. Without even realising the difference conquering this fear had made in me, I completed the Overland Track with no further fears. I did things I wouldn't normally do, and I did those things without hesitation - even where others around me displayed signs of fear or concern.
It was a massive achievement, and a great sense of accomplishment, once I reached the end of the Overland Track, but nothing like what it was like to conquer a fear with the ultimate acceptance of death.
I still joke that Cradle Mountain earned its name due to its ability to reduce grown adults into crying babies.
