Humbled in High Places

As I reflect on this summer's guiding season in Washington, I crack a weak smile out the rain stained window at my local coffee shop in Bozeman, Montana...

I reminisce on moments high on Washington's tallest volcano; the thousands of steps it took to move up and down it's flanks time and time again; the full-on focus required of me to safely guide others in an environment completely foreign to them; the mind numbing hours spent walking head on into a bone-chilling wind in the middle of the night; the glaciers, how they carried on creaking and groaning into the night to the tune of a changing climate; the countless sunrises painted with the promise of a new day; my friends, new and old, who shared countless laughs and adventures along the way; the overflowing psych in myself to get lost in the fires of my heart and live each day passionately alive and with purpose.

The fire that burned then is still burning now, but with a different energy. The changing of the seasons has delivered me from the sunny, crisp days of being immersed in the Washington alpine, where my stoke for exploration was electric --- to a much more steady pace of life in Bozeman, where time seems to pass by with a slower cadence of the clock.

I welcomed the change for the first week of being home, and allowed my body time to rest and recuperate after a summer of alpine wake-up calls, long days on my feet, and very few moments of true relaxation. The rest was good for me, but soon my mind began to wander onto planning the next adventure. I could feel the restlessness building as I sensed my body urging me to move.

Onto the desert. Within a