one last time before Spring…

It was way before dawn when I awoke, and so lazily, slowly, I make my way downstairs to the kitchen. As I sip my coffee, I see that a spring storm has left new fallen snow everywhere. I suddenly have what alcoholics refer to as “a moment of clarity”, and realize why I am up so early. I pack my gear and head to the mountains to snowshoe to the sunrise.

As I start up the trail, the sun has yet to pierce through the snow covered trees, and the trail is hard to find. I realize I just pulled a Ralston, and hurriedly check my phone to see if I can leave a message with someone, anyone, but it is too late. I think about driving back down and being responsible, but quickly scrap that idea. If an avalanche or hungry beast claims me, so be it. I start my ascent.

As I climb up the road to the trail head, I see remnants of a campground in winter. I remember being here before, many years ago, with a girl that had my heart. We were sitting by a fire I built, talking about nonsense, making out by the firelight. A porcupine, the largest I’d ever seen, waddled past us, minding his own business. We hid under blankets until it disappeared into the forest. This thought of the past carries me forward as I gasp for breath with each step…..

The silence of the mountains is the most beautiful sound. I’m glad I didn’t bring any music. I have time to look at the sky, watch the clouds pass overhead slowly. I occasionally see other people, and we exchange greetings and smiles. These are my kind of people, this is my Utah.

 
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Wench, bring my ale, what say you?