July 5

I woke up this morning to the pitter-patters of summer raindrops hammering down on my tent. I was squished in my blue sleeping bag between ten other fellow Shads. Someone’s knee was digging into my back. Our muddy shoes were all squished into a corner, emanating a faint earthy smell. There were also black flies buzzing around the tent.

Yet I have never felt more at ease and more at home. After spending the majority of the night sharing life stories with my tent mates, we woke up this morning feeling a special bond between us. We became closer with each other than with some of our friends back home. And it was this bond that sustained all of us through the arduous hike this afternoon.

It took my group almost three hours to complete the 4.5 km journey to the first summit. Along the way, we met swarms of flies that were determined to chew off our arms and legs. Backs were aching, backpack straps were cutting into shoulders, and legs were about to collapse after climbing what seemed like a million stairs. However, we pushed each other on, occasionally offering a hand to pull someone up after a scenic break. Oftentimes, we were reluctant to get up, not only because of the fatigue, but also because of the view. The pit stops offered a panoramic postcard-like picture of the valley in which we had camped the previous night. We witnessed wisps of cottony clouds swirling above a river and heard the calls of soaring birds.

After what seemed like an eternity, we reached the summit at last. There are no words to describe the feeling of turning the last corner, sidestepping roots,

and emerging in a field of clouds. The summit was literally enveloped by a cocoon of clouds that weaved through us Shads. When it eventually cleared, the view was breathtaking. My spine still tingles as I think back to the valley spread out below our dirty shoes. There was nothing else besides rocks, trees, craggy peaks, and 48 Laval Shads. As we stood on the edge of the cliff and looked down, it felt as if we were soaring on top of the world. Some of us even tried to reenact that famous scene from the Titanic when Jack cries “I’m the king of the world!”

Hiking down the mountain was a relatively relaxing journey. Looking back, we were all probably ready to drop dead at any point in the climb, or fall asleep on our feet. However, we chose instead to reach out to everyone around us and thus epitomized the sense of community that Shad values. This bond was what motivated every one of us to pick up one foot and put it in front of the other.

Today, this sense of community pushed us to the top of a mountain and into the heart of the sky. What other amazing things will it bring to us tomorrow and the other 16 days?

Jessica Li, Shad Valley Université Laval 2010
Hometown: Richmond, British Columbia