Wanderlust&Indulgence

When I was ten years old, my parents and I traveled through Europe. We went under the guise of visiting my Aunt and Uncle who lived in Naples at the time. We flew into London and slowly traveled by train and arrived in Naples four weeks later.
The thing that I most vividly remember about this trip was a stop in Switzerland. We spent three days in the picturesque town of Lucerne, Switzerland. On the morning of the second we left the town to traverse the near-by mountain, Mt. Pilatus. This mountain is supposedly home to both a dragon and the soul of Pontius Pilate and as any reasonable ten year old would do, I kept a watchful eye out for signs of fire or large claw-filled tracks. The climbing of the mountain proved incredibly easy as we were taken the vast majority of the way by cog-wheel train. This climb also proved dragon-free, much to my dismay.
The early morning was lovely but as the sun climbed higher the day became cold and the clouds began to descend. When we reached the peak visibility had decreased to a few yards. The top of Mt. Pilatus is not a single towering point but rather several towering off-shoots with the true peak being a rocky structure somewhat away from the train's final destination.
To reach this point one had to walk a single-wide path that was lined with wooden rails that cut back and forth up into the descending clouds. To my ten year-old eyes this path seemed impossible. To my imagination this path did not merely lead to the top of a big pile of rocks but lead to a limitless world of dragons and wonder. I looked at this path with both fear and fascination. I was prompted to follow the path up into the clouds by my parents but I ultimately refused. This was the first and last time I allowed myself to be swayed by trepidation; I allowed hesitation to triumph over curiosity. It was a lesson I have never forgotten, that the key to an adventure, to any journey, is to let go of your cautions and simply take the first step on the path into the clouds.