Mountain Myths
Last Tuesday, I celebrated my 33rd birthday by tackling an 8 hour hike looping over Mount Lafayette. It became pretty clear how out of shape I was about a half an hour in. An hour and a half in, I caught passing fellow hiker’s worried glances as sweat poured down my face and I gasped for breath. I probably looked like I was close to dropping dead. It’s a little bit of personal karma for bringing friends on the exact same hike when I was far more fit, wondering why they couldn’t keep up. That’s a different story, though.
As I breached treeline on Little Haystack Mountain, I knew that the physical discomfort was worth it. The breeze met me, along with a 360 view of the mountains surrounding me. On the other side of the mountain lay forests and mountains all part of the Park, some of which rarely sees humans. To my left was the ridge I would continue to Mount Lincoln, then Mount Lafayette. To call it stunning is an understatement.
When you get to the top of mountains like this, the sense of sacred space envelopes you. As I traversed the ridge, all I could think was “Here! This is where my Gods reside!” For me, it is a mixture of the spirits that live on the mountains, and the mountains themselves. As I summited Mount Lincoln, I had five minutes where there were no other hikers, so I took my rattle out of my backpack and played to the mountain and its spirits. I felt them come to the sound, curious and numerous. As I noticed a few hikers approaching, I gave an offering of tobacco and other herbs in thanks.
I believe the act of offering before, during, and after the hike is an important one. First, gratitude to the mountain for letting you safely travel on it is important, as well as offering gratitude for all the people hiking on it that day. I make offerings to anything that strikes me as something needing special acknowledgement. I make offerings to the mountain at top, as well as to any spirits that speak to me. I make offerings at the end of the hike. This turns my hike into a ceremony for me, where I am interacting with the wild forces that I pass by and upon.
Mountains have quite the history in myth and sacred landscape. Perhaps partly due to mountaintop’s inherently wild and dangerous nature, they have long been the home of deities. Mount Olympus in Greece is one of the most well known examples of this. One does not have to travel to Europe to find mountains with sacred myth, though. Mount Katahdin in Maine was held by the Abenaki as the home to Pamola, a powerful bird spirit with the head of a moose and the body of a man! He was not a fan of people climbing his mountain, so they generally steered clear of the mountain top.
Another mountain known as a sacred space is Mount Washington. Mount Washington resides in NH, about an hour from my home, and holds the title of the tallest mountain on the east coast. The Abenaki believed it to be the home of the Great Spirit, and generally left it alone. Then, white folk came along with very different ideas on how to deal with this rocky behemoth. This famous mountain now sports an Auto Road, a railroad, a weather tower, and a few other buildings.
The story of the mountain’s sacred nature could have been due to it being the biggest mountain for miles and miles. It could be the fact that the mountain is known to be the home of some nasty weather. There are often casualties on the side of that mountain of people who were not prepared for the kind of weather they were about to face, or people who suffered the type of accidents that happen on a large steep mountain. Perhaps the stories of spirits were just warnings that the mountain was generally unsafe. The stories didn’t end with the development, though.
There are fascinating ghost stories that I’ve both read and heard. Stories of lights and voices where they shouldn’t be. Stories of feeling watched. Some of the stories even have a more malevolent edge to them. People have attributed these stories to the ghosts of folks who had died on the mountain, but I believe it to be something bigger than that. I believe these stories to be about a mountain spirit that really isn’t into people being in its space, especially without permission. This doesn’t take away from the sacred nature of the mountain. It does mean that, when I get back into hiking shape and hike Mount Washington, I have a lot of gratitude work to do with it.
An interesting book that touches on the nature of mountains and shamans is “Masters of the Living Energy” by Joan Parisi Wilcox. It’s about her experience with Q’eru shamans of Peru. These shamans derive their power from Apus, mountain spirits. Their relationship with the Apus as well as their sacred bundles, their Mesas, is incredibly interesting. I suggest you give it a read if you have the chance.
In other news, the creation of my Rune sets are coming along. I’m aiming towards getting them in the store soon, with some new herbs to follow.
Until next week
-The Green Mountain Mage