What do you get when you go on a, “one last North Cascade backpacking trip,” with your friend (Nat), who loves all types of music, who is also moving across the country (but to NC)?
A lot of really bad blog titles.
Needless to say, the trip was rather bittersweet. Nat had grown up in the PNW and spent some years in the South West, only to return. I feel like, I finally became an adult in the PNW (I mean… as much as I ever will), got a desk job and was even buying a house, until my life did a few hops and a skip and I was moving to Utah.
As much as it was a bittersweet trip, it was also a quintessential North Cascade backpacking trip. The first day we made it up to the ridge line of the Copper Lake loop. Wispy clouds hung low in the mountains, only momentarily revealing their glory for a watchful eye (call me Henry David Thoureau, if you’d like).
Once making it to Egg lake we set up camp overlooking a valley that stretched up into Canada. I know what you are thinking, and yes we did bring whiskey and wine.
The next morning was clear, and we knew it wouldn’t last for long. We opted to drop our packs on the ridge and do an out and back day hike and camp in the rain forest instead of trying to complete the whole loop.
We got to camp just about an hour before it started raining, and were able to set up a tarp to keep a dry area for a camp fire. As I sat in the rain forest inching closer and closer to the fire because the rain was encroaching on the dry space, I’m sure I could have gotten upset. Instead, I was already reminiscing the mountains that had taught me so much.
The Cascades had be a great instructor in humility (originally got auto corrected to humidity, which would also be accurate). Anytime I sat in in the Cascades, whether it be in a boat, on a bike or simply on a rock, I couldn’t help but feel small. But no matter how small I felt, I always could feel that my life had purpose.
Like in kayak a big river, my ultimate purpose is to get down to the end of a rapid alive and in one piece, along with the rest of my party. Sure, I would have a hopeful line that would avoid most of the life threatening features. There is not always that much control in big water, and sometimes you are left with decisions you do not want to make. Which may mean you are about ready to stomp a line you didn’t think possible, or that you are about ready to pull your skirt and swim. Sometimes, going your own way means taking a path you would have never chosen, but is definitely where you need to be.
And now I live in Salt Lake City!
for my friends who are moms 