“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity; and that mountain parks and reservations are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life.” – John Muir, Our National Parks

“On the snowy night, I needed to have faith that we would get through this safely, because I knew we would. I needed to push my anxiety away and sleep. In the morning, I prayed, our problems would be gone. With it, I drifted off to sanctuary in sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night and the snow had stopped. Tension was holding as long as the snow was falling, and now, it released. A relieved sigh, a thank you, and back to sleep.

Dawn broke into the icebox world. A blanket of cold had settled over the still morning. We saw light and knew it was time to rise immediately and assess the situation. We whacked the rainfly free of snow.

The sun was rising in the blue morning sky, the storm was gone. We were awestruck by what we saw. A frozen winter world of white. The wind had swept the earth bare in some spots, piled snow in others, but navigating around the fresh powder was fine. There was no wind now, complete silence. It stuck to every branch of every tree. The air was the coldest we had felt yet and first thing, we rekindled the fire. We would slip our hands through the flames to give life back to our fingers as we began packing the frozen gear. We would hike today, definitely! This was gorgeous.”