In which I find myself atop a mountain, and achieve, momentarily at least, enlightenment...

Or something to that effect. This past Sunday I found myself with an afternoon to do whatever I wished, and what I decided was to climb a mountain. So I loaded up my van and drove west until I arrived at Crescent Lake. The whole drive I found myself remarking "Hey, you're in the Pacific Northwest." This revelation keeps surprising me, and making me grin like an idiot. I arrived at the Storm King Ranger Station, to hike to Merrymere falls, which was supposed to be short, sweet, flat, and as easy as walking to the mailbox. It was, but that came later. First, as I was leaving the parking lot, not half a minute from my car, and five feet to my left a doe, and her faun.

Isn't that precious? ::shrugs::


I also decided to take a little side trail that went straight up the side of Mount Storm King. That trail was two miles long, and one mile straight up the side of the mountain. It was a short intense hike, and by the time I reached the end of the trail I understood, or at least felt the compulsion to make it to the top that plagues mankind under those circumstances. So despite the trail ending, and the sign posted on the tree warning of steep, rocky, unmarked paths, I trod on.

Some shots I took along the way. I broke out the camera whenever I had to stop to catch my breath, which was rather more often than I'd like to admit. This was a serious trail, unlike the suburban trails back in NoGa:




It wasn't much farther from the end of the trail to the top of the mountain, but I had no choice in the matter. I had to do it. I had to, if not conquer the mountain, share a little triumph, a victory, with it. There were several stretches that would have been impassable if it were not for the courtesy of those who went before leaving ropes strung along the several parts of the trail to allow for successful crossings. I met a pair of rockclimbers just before I made my final ascent. They seemed surprised to find me there without so much as a bottle of water, but I could only shrug. Once I started there was no way I could let myself stop until I had reached the top. Everytime I thought about it, it made me laugh, and at the same time, it made me feel more human. To share this compulsion with so many of my fellow hairless monkeys.

And here we are. Doofy grin plastered on my face, and I'll tell you I couldn't wipe it off the whole way down the mountain, or on the way to the falls. I was probably still smiling like an idiot as I drove back to the farm after the hike ended:


I didn't get any shots of the waterfall, my camera died, but undoubtedly if you'd like to see it you could search for it on Flickr. I saw plenty of people with much nicer cameras than mine taking pictures. So aside from my mountaintop adventure, how am I? I'm really quite well, thank you for asking. The work on the farm is hard. Really hard. I have never been half so dirty, and for such an extended period of time, in my life. We're still getting this place cleaned up from the winter, but we're starting to put more food in the ground, and it's taking shape before my eyes. It's really cool. I'm eating ridiculously well, and as the seasons turn, I have no doubt the food will only get better.

I promise my next post will be more farm centric and less about taking a walk in the woods, but after all, how often does one find ones self doing the things you've always wanted to do. I've spent much time lusting after the PacNorWe, and now I'm here. Simple as that, but it still has only just begun to sunk in. This is beautiful country, and I feel genuinely privileged to be here. On the other hand, privileged my but; I earned that hike. Just ask the pigs, or that chicken that keeps escaping.