I've been feeling a little off.

The daily routine lacks pillars that that make me feel whole. Exercise, regimented diet and regular sleep. There has been far too many hours lost to Instagram (currently deleted from phone) and movies. A denudation of spirit. 

A friend invited me to the mountains for a few days - the gift of a reset.

The first third of the hike followed a tumbling river at the floor of the valley. We hiked under canopy of evergreens, around us the classic Pacific Northwest undergrowth, gentle ferns, moss and fallen logs. Green everywhere. The air teeming with freshness, slightly humid and perfectly temperate.

After warming up our legs, we cut up a series of switchbacks to a high mountain meadow. All around us huckleberry bushes, late in the season, but still producing (tangy - sweet). Autumn had started to turn the hill a canvas of reds and yellows.

 

Past the meadows we picked our way through shallow valleys and fields of boulders. In every direction smokey peaks lined the horizon. Little glacial streams everywhere to filter and drink (getting to taste water like this from the source will spoil you and the stuff in plastic bottles forever).

After a full day of hiking we arrived at teardrop lake at the base of the mountain. We pitched our tent on a soft bed of sand, traded snacks and listened to the Mariners fight their way into the playoffs on a little AM radio.

Woke at 2:30AM  with my friends. They set out to conquer the mountain. I took in the milky way and stars and then went back to sleep.  

The last evening we returned to the ridges which rimmed the mountain meadows. The sun set on smokey valleys in front of us. Instead of pitching a tent, we cowboy camped near a bluff of trees, the whole world (or at least the bit that matters) stretched before us. I watched the stars come out one by one. Tracked the path of satellites streaking by. The eyes grow heavy. Any problems seemed very very far away. 

Easy miles back to the car. Reliving the best spots on the way in - more huckleberries for breakfast, more perfect undergrowth. I raced so I'd have time to skinny dip in the river. Washed off layers of dirt, sweat and long held stress. 

The ride home was bittersweet. In that moment, I felt as if I could spend weeks on the trail, wandering the ridges, valleys and forests. Reading good books, writing long overdue letters and watching time do its thing.

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Each of our actions builds or breaks connection. The aggregate sum of this ends up being the relationships we live with.

Ultimately the trail is many things, but for me it is a mirror. You walk, you think. Right foot, left foot. Walk, think. Over and over.

Reflecting on the last few months and year there was a realization that I need to be a better friend. I've been in a hole between work, fatherhood and balancing a romantic relationship. To the ones I've neglected, bailed on or been inconsiderate - I'm truly sorry. Hoping that this next season will be one of building bridges. Looking forward to sharing both time and presence.  

Cowabunga dude,

DJ

PS: Gaël is great - we had the best day today - here's a 6 second clip of us riding a scooter together