August 5th, Sunrise Sunrise

Brief note, the sunrise pictured is of Fenske Lake (Minnesota), not Montana

Froze-to-Death Peak, MT - Woke up and spied a sunrise today. I have seen a good number of sunrises and yet the beauty and magnificence of each moment (as well as the profundity of the event) will never cease to fill me with awe and wonder. We worked hard to get up here and now we can see as far across the plains to the East and the mind's eye could have imagined. Now I sit on a gentle peak after hobbling half a mile at 5am. I will hang out with goats all day. Another weekday. God, I hate Wednesdays.

Sunrises are marvelous. The intrinsic reason that all marvels are so marvelous is because you have to work and perhaps suffer to be in the right place for experience. It seems that difficulty is equal to the reward in most hikes of life. The more you push yourself (sanely) the more content you may be. Maybe.

It has come to the point that I am almost always most satisfied when the body is uncomfortable. I was downright giddy last night as the wind howled rain, snow and sleet down on us. I felt alive.
Tomorrow I will sleep outside, make coffee in the pre-dawn glow and set out to watch the sunrise with cup of joe in hand. I think this has the potential to be one of the best mornings of my life.

It’s so damn easy to get yourself together here and be happy. Is the city spiritual fasting? A place where devoid of the opportunity to settle into a centered being you learn to value the spiritual feast of solace? Are the wilderness trips binges in a sea of self denial or just brief visits to an oasis on along a long harsh journey?

Waking up each day here is spiritually uplifting (whether on trail, in camp or on the road). The possibilities of everyday for fun, learning and reflection are unrivaled. It’s living each day as if it were your last. There is no better use of my time, especially as I help pass the sensation on to others.

As we sipped coffee after the sunrise, Chas asked me if I felt connected with the mountains. I said I did and that I think (after some reflection) that it’s a good thing. I feel home in the high hills, never wishing to be somewhere else. I look forward to the pleasures and comforts here (sleeping dry and warm in the tent, eating dinner, eating breakfast, dessert) not back or forward to pleasure far away (like sleeping in a bed or relentlessly craving foods not available on trail). On many occasions I do look forward to coming off trail and eating until I am completely satisfied, fresh fruit and old friends, but I remember that whenever I have those things I look fondly to the simplicity of life in a place like this. I get nostalgic.