The sun is bright but provides little warmth this chill November morning. Wool and nylon encase us as we start down the trail. Stiff legs seek a rhythm as backs and shoulders strain at this unaccustomed load of worldly needs reduced to the capacity of backpacks. We stand on a boulder overlooking the valley.
Vultures soar upon the updrafts, and mountain ranges recede into a blue hazed obscurity.
Through the leafless forest we tread, the gray, vertical landscape interrupted by the green of hemlock and pine. Stopping for a rest, we lie in a clearing, faces upturned to catch the sun's meager warmth. Cool water from canteens and gorp refresh us as we revel in the moment. I take the lead, where I like to be, pushing into the unknown. Piston legs pumping, I transcend the now to wander in other places and other times.