(looking forward to wilderness life)

As much as I like backpacking in winter, by about mid February I start to dream of the long warm days of May through August, and begin to plan some backpacking trips to mountain ranges and trails I've never been to before.

Searching out unfamiliar trails keeps alive ones spirit of adventure and discovery, two of the things that make life interesting and fresh.

What is so enjoyable about backpacking is the simplicity of life while exploring unknown mountains, alert for the incredible beauty that is always part of a day in nature.

A summary of a typical day on the trail will show skeptics why summer backpacking is such a good experience:

After a hard hike in I look for a camp site at the edge of a meadow near tall spruce and fir or pine. I usually am tired enough to cook an early dinner go to sleep soon after dark. In the morning I wake as the first light is showing in the east, and in a few minutes will be sitting over my camp stove warming my hands as hot coffee starts to brew. I find a good place to sit with my coffee and my two border collies to watch the dawn clouds go from red to pink to yellow, and the sun break over the edge of the horizon far below us, painting the mountains around us in a golden hue.

My idea of a good camp breakfast is fresh-cooked biscuits smothered in honey and butter, after which me and the dogs will head off to explore the mountains with a camera and a fishing rod. I can imagine myself on a bank of a lake watching clouds and light play on the peaks across the basin, when my rod buckles to the hard yank of a fat cutthroat trout, or exploring the upper reaches of the basin I am camped in, wandering and exploring and photographing wherever and whatever I choose.

Those days that are windy or rainy have a unique kind of beauty in the high country, and I have come to enjoy hearing wind blow through spruce or fir or pines, and to see a rainstorm turn a still lake to thousands of radiating circles.

Night often is calm in the mountains, and when I wake in the post midnight hours I climb out of the tent to observe the billions of stars of the Milky Way, that even on moonless nights can produce enough light that you can see without a flashlight.

I have backpacked enough that its pretty clear I could not be happy without the freedom and beauty and adventure encountered in the wilderness, and I work hard to keep my life simple and absent of anything that might prevent me from returning to the high country as often as I choose. I pray that my health will hold up so that I may explore new trails for another decade, or two. (or three?).