In Perfect Silence

(Not long after discovering a watch reading 8/20 20:20)

We crept beneath our low-hung tarp
(well-trained, were we, to set camp amid rain)
to discover not rain -
but stars salting the dark blue breath of sky above us.

My first time backpacking,
and I understand now that the name is misleading. Before, I did not know why someone would want to walk outdoors with a backpack through varying terrain (the backpack seems to be the point of the name), except as some personal challenge.

Not only varying terrain, but weather as well,
and we certainly received more than our share of rain in a Northwest August landscape. At night, beneath the kitchen tarp, we huddled near constantly boiling water, continuously distributing recently warmed calories amongst each other to keep our fingers functioning properly. In the evenings, I wished for darkness so that I might crawl into a soon-to-be-warmed sleeping bag, leave the cold blowing wet outside, and lose the cold with my consciousness. In the mornings, I wished for light so that I might have an excuse to get up and stay up, rather than roll over to subconsciously stiffen my other side.

But the last day,
we picked ourselves up and hiked a slow, but steady 10 miles over the pass between the Three Sisters. The edges of the land were swallowed up in cloud. I could only passing-glance seek out the route we'd come by, because the wind and rain would not permit a longer gaze. We crossed the pass, sometimes over snow. I gathered a snowball to carry to the other side. Blue clouds amid a white sky began to show as we reached our campsite for that last evening. Hastily, we set up camp. By habit, we huddled under the tarp boiling water and serving food. By and by we engaged in rather astonishing depth of discussion.

If you could look one person in the eyes and tell them, 'I love you,' who would it be?

Finally, we remembered that it was not raining, that we might look outside, and even up.

There waiting, were the stars.




And this, I think, is backpacking:
The means for bringing such a group of people to such a place and in such a fashion,
that together we might spread our sleeping mats like a colony of caterpillars in a forest of black bristling pine, and looking up, appreciate our view of a clear be-starréd night, as seen beyond the ribcage of the earth.