30.

this weekend I took a hike. it was a new sort of hike, without swimming holes and jean shorts, one without the toting of banjoes up the mountainside and (unfortunately) no fire for fireside talks, but it was a good hike. a nourishing hike. we traveled to the whites in New Hampshire and trekked up South Kinsman. it was cold and snowy, i rented some heavy-duty boots and some serious metal crampons and followed suit. winter hiking is a completely different experience than the southern summer hiking that my tiny muscles are used to - it was a challenge for a lot of different reasons. first, i was hiking with experienced winters hikers who knew the jargon, who knew the mountains, and who actually know what winter means. it wasn't until i started packing for this trip that i realized i had somehow made it this far into a new england winter with only cotton garments. so i borrowed enough long underwear, wool sweaters and socks, and down-stuffed overcoats to stay warm. all the pressures of not being prepared, not having the experience, worrying about being the weak link, kind of stole my fun for a while. i was too worried about keeping in step with my friendlies to stop and breath. it wasn't until i stopped and stood for an extra minute at a stream that hadn't been stopped by the winter that those familiar feelings of exploration came back to me. i remembered that all i needed to do was be there. just be there, away from here, away from trains, and buses, and people moving so swiftly past one another that they forget to notice what matters...

it felt nice to remember what matters for a few minutes.

[on the hike out, the sun was shining]

[view from close to the top]

[did i forget to mention that we camped on top of the mountain? we did. it was the scariest part because we couldn't start a fire. but we sure did make some drinking water out of this snow!]