[Slugman]

The stroll up to Sunny Pass is easy and gentle, the modest elevation gain going by almost unnoticed. The pass is a wonderland of color and texture, brown, gray, tan, rust, green, from at your feet to the farthest horizon. Peaks too numerous to count beckon in all directions. You set up your chair, play with your dog, feel the wind in your hair and the wilderness in your soul. The camp in Horseshoe Pass just off the trail is wide open but completely private when the whole valley is deserted except for you. Planets, then stars, then entire galaxies twinkle into existance as the sun's lingering glow disappears. Cold and wind? Ha! That's why sleeping bags and yellow dogs were invented. But tomorrow's adventures call, so goodnight to creation, and you sleep. Morning, sunlight on the tent, a pooch with a full bladder, the desire for hot, fresh coffee, these pull you from your warm cocoon. Lounge in the sun, let the dog be just a dog, you've both earned it. But the high places call, with a voice filled with power and longing, so chores are hurried through and decisions made: which way to go. Today's choice is Arnold Peak, 8,084 ft. Why? Why not! Up grassy flanks, no trail exists or is needed or wanted. Granite outcroppings, balanced boulders, bonsai trees, toasty fields of ripe grasses, you turn at every other step to record the images for your posterity. Everythng is perfect, yet disordered. The meticulous master gardener who placed every rock just so last passed this way a thousand years ago, or a million, but his masterwork remains. A ridge is reached, and you look to the far horizons of another nation, north to infinity. There is some fine country there, just like here. It's good to have friendly neighbors. But now on to the peak, the pinnacle, the sublime moment of ultimate achievement, but it is just a pile of rocks slightly higher than the adjacent ground. The peak, the achievement, is in you, not on or in the Earth. You turn in circles, eyes drawn this way and that, to wonders and places that can only be glimpsed from afar. Seven-league boots, that's what you need, to leap gloriously from peak to mountain to summit, seeing each from the others, always a new perspective. But you're here, the center of the universe, and you accept that, and simply yearn in silence for the magical freedom of flight. Then you divide the world into quarters, imaginary lines north, south, east, west, and spend one quarter of an eternity just gazing in each direction, mesmerized, until it is memorized, burned into the very fabric of your retina, your mind. The whining of your canine companion brings you to the realization that hours have passed in the outside world while the eons passed within you, so you descend, reluctantly, almost tearfully. But there is a ridge, a beautiful, lovely ridge, heading east, away from your camp but going your way, down, that is, so you take it, and the joy continues, the adventure, the discovery. A small, open valley descends finally to your trail and you trudge back to camp, hardly noticing the fine mist of rain that has started drifting down to gently glaze the world in dewey droplets. Lying in your tent, snuggling with your warm friend, a glow permeates you, the true feeling of contentment, of a soul renewed. Another day dawns clear and bright, a tent to take down, water to filter, mindless chores that hardly intrude on the surrounding wonders of plant and stone. An icy stab of reality, unwelcome, touches you, it's a long way back, and an even longer drive after that, with no desire to begin the journey. So you compromise and head back, but circuitously, randomly, exploring and experiencing as you go. Tiny lakes, huge meadows, forests, then the end, the dreaded car. Seven hours later, you're home, exhausted, exhilarated, reconstructed, ready to go again, next week or next year or another lifetime.

[frankm3]

Hey you political agitator! Nice TR! Sorry we missed seeing you over in Okanogan country; that is a great destination! Where are the pictures?

[jimmymac]

Slugman, the exhilaration to which you refer is hard to convey without a little over-the-top prose. I think a lot of really profound wilderness experiences get penned as being "a great trip" or being "a really nice day." By having the guts to get a little artsy with your TR, you have described some experiences that, like pornography, are easy to recognize but tough to define. Throughout your latest epistle, I caught myself thinking. "Yeah! Exactly! Right on the money, Slugo!" Now then... Briefly returning to the pornography analogy, have you got some pictures or what?

[Slugman]

Thank you both. I was getting a little worried that no one commented on the report. I expected either love or hate, but was mentally unprepared for indifference. Jimmy, it took more work than guts. I usually just dash off my reports, but this one got the benefit of a little skull sweat. I decided to just try and write what the hike felt like, rather than simply recite a list of what I saw or what happened. Trip reports are somewhat of a confining medium, since they are almost constrained to follow a certain pattern. I didn't want to just write "I headed up the trail at noon and got to blah blah blah at blah o'clock" one more time. I was hoping to make the reader feel like Julie Andrews spinning on the mountain top in "The Sound of Music". Corny, but the truth. I will upload some pictures in a few minutes after I resize a few, but right now I will attampt to link to the two I posted at WTA. Here goes. This one is of Daisy having her reflective moment on our ascent of Arnold peak, with Snehumption Gap and Armstrong mtn in the background:

This one is of a boulder grouping I called the Three Kings. I don't know why I chose this shot to upload, because it isn't one of the best I took. I guess I was in a bit of a hurry.

[Oren]

Its refreshing to see some diversity that I know this board shares. Nature is never mundane nor just stamped out as some TRs reflect. I don't believe its the authors abilities or skills that make them sometimes so, but rather, the fear of rejection. Great to see someone break away from the norm. And I agree it is difficult to articulate the awe and splendor of ones experiences but it looks like you had fun trying.

[Slugman]

Yes, it was fun. I spent about two hours on the report, basically writing it right out as you saw it, just rather slowly, with no real edits or re-writes. It has a raw, unfinished feel, but I kind of like that about it, so I left it alone. I have many faults, but being afraid to look foolish isn't one of them. When I posted it at thebackpacker.com, the only comment I got was "Are you on drugs?"

[wildernessed]

That's kind of what you expect out of backpacker.com though.

[Slugman]

No, not backpacker.com. I wouldn't grace those sanctimonious nitwits with one of my trip reports. This was at "thebackpacker.com", a rowdy group but one that usually respects serious attempts. Backpacker magazine is written by such dumbasses that a recent "Northwest hiking edition" from last fall was full of hikes in Tenessee and Arizona. What dumbasses. I got some issues for free, and I still feel ripped off. A typical "gem of wisdom" from Backpacker magazine: "The PCT will always be 'Keith' to the Apalachian trail's 'Mick'". Is that the dumbest thing you've ever read or what? Lets see, the PCT is: longer, more elevation gain, has glaciers, volcanoes, high alpine country, the Sierras, etc. The Apalachian trail has: crowds, mosquitos, and the entire cast and crew of "Deliverance", minus the banjo playing. And to use a Rolling Stones metaphor is just too lame for words, aside from the fact that their whole point is totally dumbass.

[Slugman]

Driving time is attrocious, 6 hours at least unless you have iron kidneys and a large gas tank. If not for that, I'd be there three times a year. There are more walk-up peaks in the 8,000 ft range than you can shake a stick at. Someday I'll have to go when the grass is green. I've been twice, both times in October when the grass is a beautiful toasty brown. A hint about pictures: if you click on the "Pics" tab at the top of the screen, you can look at all the pics of whichever member you then choose. I have several of Daisy posted, and a few of me, 14 megs at less than 0.1 meg per picture. Many members here have a nice archive going. It's something to peruse through when the posting is slow, or during winter when it's "look and sigh" time. Hey, where did your question go, Hichen? Oh well, Hichen asked about drive times and mentioned seeing the pic of Daisy.

[Jeff R]

Sorry I retracted the post, I figured it would be more appropriate in a "pm" format. Thanks for the info!

[tennessee treader]

I have enjoyed the TR and responses. I am a Washingtonian trapped in Tennessee. You are quite right about the AP, most of it is quaint, but is not even close to the PCT. The AP does have a few challenging portions though. Thanks for the TR on Horseshoe Basin, it confirmed my plans to take my 12 and 10 year old sons there when I come up in a couple of weeks. I'll be Washington hiking in 25 days, 17 hours, 58 mins, and 16.4 seconds (but who's counting...). Thanks again for the great TR Slugman.