Once we were young and warriors.
Once our wings beat strong to carry us to the high places near the sun.
Once we stood on summits with frosty breath.
We saw Africa, Europe, Alaska and the might Himalayas
Spread out in majestic panoply below us,
The power and solitude of the peaks awesome.

Once our arms were sinewy and tan as we rushed down the magnificent rivers —
The Colorado, the Bio Bio, the Green, the Yampa, the Salmon, the Chattooga.
We marveled at the power of the great drops and holes
As we planned our routes through the maelstrom with pounding hearts.

We spoke at night around the fire in the depths of canyons carved 100 million years ago.
We felt small and knew the impermanence of our passing.
Tomorrow we would be gone.
A million years hence the river would still be there carving its way to the sea.

Once our backs were broad and straight and we lightly carried great packs
Over lonely and special places in our world–the Brooks Range, the Ganesh Himal,
Bhutan, the ancient Inca Trail above the Yurabamba River, the Highline Trail
in the mightly Wind River Range.

We were self sufficient in our geodesic dome tents, with our Coleman stoves,
And freeze dried dinners.
Our thoughts turned to the mountain men who lived alone in such magnificent places
And for a moment we felt their oneness with the Big Country,
Their sense of competence and self sufficiency in the impartial vastness of the high country.

Once our feet trod places where the great explorers rsiked all to plumb the next
Unknown ridge or valley–Jim Bridger, Merriweather Lewis, John Wesley Powell,
Even great great uncle William Raynolds of the Tetons.

Once our lives stretched out endlessly to horizons unknown.
That we felt up to new tasks was a given–we would give it a try.
We courted risk because it made us seem whole.
We wanted to go where others had not gone.
We thought to build our concept of self–which was fragile–
By doing what others did not dare do.

Once we sought to push the envelope of experience–
Frightened as we were to do so–
And sought completeness by coming out the other side.

In a Navy Underwater Demolition Team, there were times
Of pure terror and pure joy.
Swimming in the cold, clear water off California’s San Clemente Island,
Feeling like otters as we dove and turned and glided around great columns
Of kelp, dappled in sunlight and towering 50 feet up from the sea floor.
Our bodies felt omnipotent–we could dive and swim forever.
We were gods of the sea–not knowing that “Time held us green and dying
Though we sang in our chains like the sea.”
We were naked warriors and masters of a universe that seemed divided
More simply into the good and the bad.
We were the good guys and we walked like kings.

Once we sought to change the world and set off to do secret things.
Was it hubris?  Of course.  Did it change the world?  Maybe an inch.
But was it worth it?  Yes.

Once we traveled the world to find joy–and there were sublime moments–
But always we found the greatest joy in human contact
And in extending a helping hand.
Tears of joy when being part of a companion’s breakthrough in summiting
A rock face and triumphing over a terrible acrophobia.
Tears of joy when waiting with a parent for his troubled son to complete a marathon run
At the end of an Outward Bound course and fell into his father’s arms, both
Sobbing in recognition of their unexpressed love.

Once we were bullet proof and immortal, but change, loss and grief
Came to us, and tears for loss and anguish coursed our cheeks.
Once we were the toughest ones in the valley, but we learned tears are okay,
That they come to most of us.
If we can accept them, perhaps it’s the beginning of wisdom.

Now we are struggling to accept our weakened wings–they no longer can carry
Us over the snow-capped peaks.
Our knees will no longer test the Eiger and the Matterhorn.
Our backs will not ply the roiling waters of Alaska’s mighty Koyakuk River.
Now we look at the fabric of our lives and realize that at the bottom
Of all the seeking is love.
We seek love and return always to those whome we love and who love us.
Our children and our mate are the core of what’s important and life-affirming for us.
They give meaning to all the striving and they will be our most lasting legacy.

Once we said, “Where’s the next mountain?”
Now we face a mortal challenge in cancer and we say, “I have so much to be
Grateful for–what a blessed life I’ve been privileged to lead, but there’s more to do
And so cancer’s the next mountain.”  And I say,
“I will not go gentle into that good night.”

I may be finding just a little wisdom as I try to accept my weakened wings
As they now seek to carry me up just one more time.

Wherever the summit may be, I’m going to try to get there.  I hope I’ve “traveled a
Short while towards the sun.”  And I know I am so blessed by the love and prayers
Of my beloved wife, my wonderful children, my loving sisters, and my special friends
From all parts of my life.
Whatever the outcome, I’ve had such a special run in life, and I’m committed
To going several more laps.

John Raynolds, October 31st, 2002