This sense of a common goal and paradigm faded with my return to the university and the activities there.  I grieved the loss of a shared purpose and belief for several years.  When I rejoiced at a new community I was surprised at the source.  Family, church, and the Civil Rights Movement were serious endeavors.  Now I got my “fix” from sport.  I married a man who loved the mountains having no idea how seriously he felt that passion.  By the end of our seventeen years together we’d climbed mountains in Mexico and Peru (as well as the contiguous United States) and hiked hundreds of miles.  We’d ascended vertical rock with chocks and rope.  There were even ice climbing lessons.  This time fellowship took place around picnic tables, camp fires or inside tents with other mountaineers, hikers and climbers.  Just as in my other communal experiences there were rules and an entire language within which we lead our lives.  Being on top was our goal and our reward was the solitude and wonder of the wilderness shared with like-minded people.

Part 3 will be up by April 21.