Chemtrails

The "real world" is not a worry when you're out in the woods.  The feeling of being far away from it all is a delight. Sometimes its lonely, but the routine of waking up and walking North is self driven and simple. 

Thru hiking is an exercise in deprivation. Removing access to the simplest pleasures makes receiving them at the end of a week long stint of solitude close to orgasmic. Beer tastes like mana from heaven and soda makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

My dear friend Lindsay was incredibly elaborate and loving  in putting together this care package that I received at Tuolumne Meadows.  Lapping on a Surly Furious, shipped all the way from Minneapolis, in the middle of Yosemite was without a doubt a highlight of this adventure.   

Every mile I walk I see the beauty of my surroundings. This care package was a reminder of the beautiful people in my life.  

Yosemite is a magical land.

Chem trails remind you that on the other side of the peaks that provide solitude the "real world" continue to churn. 

The roar of the rivers drown out and disguise the roar of jet engines.

Room for 1. 

The Riveria of the Sierra. An alpine lake with a sandy beach all to myself. 

Unscarred sky.

My attempt to dry off everything in my pack after falling into a rushing river.  I could tell you about how I almost died. But I didn't,  thanks to a log and some Jean Claude Van Damme splits skills.  It was a soggy night, but I survived. 

I couldn't quite count how many islands there were.

Hope you know your acronyms. 

This rushing river was the trail. Chinese Rock handled it like a champ.

Also the trail.

Wish I had a beer to celebrate.