He opens the cabin door and is assaulted by the scent of fresh pines. Not a cloud in the sky on this picture perfect morning around Lake Siskiyou in the Mount Shasta area of Northern California. The trail is only a few steps from his back porch, and soon he finds himself lost in nature as he starts to hike the circular path around the lake.
A man with his dog nods in silent salutation to the lone hiker, fishermen cast out from boats and canoes, the familiar sound of line zipping out and the small plop of a bobber landing with a plunk in the water. Eagles circle overhead, fishing in their own way….

The brotherhood of man and nature is strong this morning. The hiker comes to a cluster of cabins, it’s occupants still sleeping. He silently makes his way through, trying not to disturb the people inside.

The trail comes to a river, the one that feeds the mighty Lake Siskiyou. It’s late May, but still springtime in the high country and the water runoff is high. In fact, it has washed out the trail completely. He tries to cross the river, but finds he is not as agile as the deer and only gets halfway before realizing he can go no further.

He tries to hike up the mountain side to get a vantage point and see another way across, but it’s to no avail. Nature wins this round.
 He heads back the way he came, the mighty Mount Shasta before him.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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