The winds that had whipped up and propelled the clouds that raced by us all afternoon yesterday were gone, their fever pitch signaling the death rattle of the ugly weather that has followed us ever since entering Washington. In their wake was an eerie calm and a starry, though bitterly cold night. At long last, the sun that has been conspicuous in its absence this past week and a half had returned.
Irrational Fear
Lions. Tigers. Bears. Oh my. Like Dorothy setting off alone on the yellow brick road, I sometimes wonder whether people to whom thru-hiking is a completely foreign undertaking have an image that this journey is one rife with peril at every turn.
Quiet Reflection
Tearing myself away from a cozy bed was made only slightly easier by the fact that although the clouds still hung in the sky like unwanted guests it at least was not raining. As this grand adventure nears its home stretch, I've noticed that comfortable town stays like last night bring my mind closer to the home that awaits me when this incredible hike comes to a close.
Washington. Another Word for Wet
The clouds that had drifted back and forth across the Knife's Edge yesterday decided to settle in for a longer stay last night and the familiar patter of raindrops was again my lullaby. I woke up hoping that the weather system had blown through to reveal the sun again but it was pretty clear that wish wouldn't be coming true anytime soon. Only rain and a light wind filled the air.
Goat Rocks
It was still pitch black a few minutes after 5am when I unzipped and reached through the open door of the tent to light my stove for coffee. Against a black backdrop, the flame of the stove cast a soft blue light under and through various holes of the windscreen around it. It looked like a jack-o-lantern fitted with a candle burning blue and it was an oddly calming way to begin the morning.
Happy Birthday, Have Some Hail
A cold night made for great sleeping, and just after the morning no longer required a headlamp, we were off and beginning our fifth month on the trail. A mile or so down the trail, we entered the Mt. Adams Wilderness. Knowing that this massive volcano of over 12,000 feet was looming nearby, even though we'd had no view of it since the weather had turned for the worse two days ago…
Forgiveness
A relationship with nature is, surprisingly, not altogether different from any other relationship with a loved one or a friend. Motivated by the conditions on a day like yesterday, it's the easiest thing in the world to feel frustrated, angry. But weather is simply an inextricable part of the wilderness, and how can you hate a thing you love for being itself?