In honor of “I am a mentor social media day”, I’m sharing the below reflection I wrote following a 2009 Explore Austin Summer Wilderness Trip. Enjoy!
Climbing a mountain is an easy, and often used, metaphor for life. But that’s not why we climb mountains at Explore Austin. We climb mountains, not because it’s an easy metaphor for life, but because it actually changes your life. Case in point… my experience as an Explore Austin mentor in the summer of 2009.
Over a one week period, we mountain biked over 70 miles at an average of 9,000 feet in the Tarryall Mountains. It was near the end of the trip and everyone (mentors and Explorers) was exhausted; mentally, physically, and emotionally. Juan, one of our 10th grade Explorers, was particularly spent (not to mention a bit injured from a spill he took the day prior). As we set out on our bikes that morning, Juan struggled to keep up. The hills were long and the headwind was strong! A few miles into the ride, Juan decided he’d had enough. He wanted to take a break in the support vehicle that had been following us for the week. The problem was, because of the rough terrain, there was no support vehicle on that section of the trail!
As Juan and I rested, I told him that this was one of those times where he had no choice but to push on. I promised him that I would stay with him, help him up the hills, and make sure he made it through the day. Failure, I reminded him, was not an option. We mounted our bikes and, as we rode, I held onto his backpack, pushing him up the hills and encouraging him along the way. As we climbed, I remember thinking to myself about how lucky I was to have had hands on my back, pushing me up life’s hills, for as long as I could remember. I remember how honored I was to be in a place to give back to Juan what my mentors had given me; the courage to dig deep, the will to suffer through the difficult times, and the support of knowing someone is there alongside you for the ride.
Toward the end of the day, the miles had taken a toll on both of us. As we stood at the base of the largest (and last) hill of the day, we both wondered how we would make it to the top. I was exhausted having spent my day literally pushing Juan as I rode next to him. Juan was completely exhausted, as well. I wasn’t sure “pushing” Juan was going to be enough. So, as my mentors on occasion did for me, I decided that this was one of those times where rather than pushing my mentee, I would literally pull him up the mountain. Not having anything to pull a bicycle with, I took my rain pants out of my backpack, tied one leg to my seat and the other to Juan’s handlebars, and started up the hill. Juan pedaled behind me, providing as much energy as he could muster. We reached the summit exhausted, but elated. Despite the physical, emotional, and mental challenges, we had done what we set out to do; finish and finish together.
After gulping down water and catching our breath, Juan approached me. In his characteristic quiet voice, he thanked me as he shook my hand. He wasn’t long-winded or full of hyperbole, but I knew what he wanted to say. I knew that he had probably never had someone there to encourage him to do something difficult, to not allow him to give in, or to suffer through the difficulties in climbing the mountain of life. He never had someone “push” him that hard, much less “pull” him along. I put my arm around him and thanked him for his appreciation and his willingness to keep going.
We’ve spoken about that experience a few times since, of the metaphors it evokes, and of the value of that day. I know Juan gets it. I do, too.












