If you remember, back on February 11th, I posted the blog tilted “The Spring of Genius” where among many things I introduced to you my goal of achieving a backpack in every calendar month of the year and gave you the story of my January experience. When that posted to you, I was actually recouping from my February backpack on the 8th and 9th of the month. I waited to write this as I had been hoping to get out a second time during the month but it just wasn’t meant to be, at least during the few days that I had an ideal weather window for what I wanted. So I decided to just focus on other obligations at hand and wait to get out again for my March adventure, which I am planning to do over the next couple of days! But since February 2022 has officially come and gone now, here is my backpacking story for the month, excerpted from my journal…
An icy surprise as I enter the forest…
Hemlocks encased in snow and ice along the trail
February 8th and 9th, Loyalsock State Forest
“Once again, here I am sipping my coffee after biscuits and gravy. This time on a clear, sunny day sitting atop dense, packed and ice-crusted snow. The most recent storm brought a mix of ice and heavy wet snow to the mountains in this region. I am at Lower Alpine View and it is a lovely Winter’s day - a cold air and breezy wind gusts but the warmth of the sun is beginning to become apparent, as is it’s slightly higher arc in the sky.
Morning at Lower Alpine View
Off-trail camping nook near Lower Alpine View
Ice wall at Lower Alpine View
Ice and snow still blanket the forest, but even in this two week period since I was last here, streams (albeit they are still quite frozen up and crossable) have somewhat broken up revealing a tinge more water flow. But again, there is certainly a solid snow pack yet. Ice falls are still massively prominent and there is a section along Ketchum Run where the trail is a thin line meandering along the ridge side that is essentially a sloping sheet of ice - very challenging to maneuver even with the cramp-ons of my snow shoes. The micro-spikes (if not real cramp-ons for that matter!) may have been a better option here for freer maneuverability but I managed to make due. The micro-spike/snow shoe debate was one I had several times on this backpack but ultimately I stayed with the snow shoes to ensure staying on top of the snow as opposed to possibly breaking down through and being planted in knee-high crusted over snow, lol!
Frozen stream crossing
Last night was a cold, crystal clear night filled with the stars of the Winter sky and the first-quarter moon. It was breathtaking, both figuratively and literally as the temps plunged low into the teens. I had a perfect perch underneath some Hemlocks and gazing wide open to the surrounding mountains and valley below. The snow white landscape gleamed in the moonlight and I simply let myself go - drifting across it all through time periods of my life, warm memories, fears, hopes and dreams of my life…
…It was as if I floated throughout time, lost in this moon lit majesty. Cherished, loving memories flooded my mind - family, friends, holidays, a simple but happy childhood, and an appreciation for what we had. Flashes of scenes faint yet so vivid the sounds and smells accompanied the visions. Warmth, laughter, playing and having fun, living life. Yes, there were many hard times and struggles but the good drowned out the bad.
I wandered from childhood to teenage years, college, young adulthood and to now… Full-blown adulthood, middle age perhaps - as the thought occurred to me that as long as I am fortunate enough to live a long, healthy life, at 44 years old I am most likely in the ballpark of being around the mid-point of my life, somewhere near as many years ahead as lay before me…
It is an interesting thing to think about, mortality, especially to begin to realize our own mortality. I remember as a child and well into my 20’s having that feeling of invincibility. The idea of old-age and death seeming like something so far off, detached almost in its seeming non-reality, another lifetime away…
I think that no matter who you are, we can probably most of us agree that sometimes it all does seem like everything that has come and gone before us happens in just the blink of an eye. And we realize that this to will someday become a distant memory. I feel though, if we truly recognize the present to the best of our ability, we can look back vividly and feel those moments that are so fleeting and precious. We can re-live with a warm smile.
How precious life is, we owe it to live each moment. I do my best as much as I can.
None of this is to sound morbid. I feel pretty damn young at heart and in many ways both physically and mentally stronger than I have ever been. Hell, sometimes I even think that perhaps my best years still lay before me. After all, I am out here pursuing my dreams, making them come true one at a time, living my life and in essence just getting started! Outside of my adventure and artistic goals, I am newly engaged and Anna and I have so many dreams we hope too will come to fruition…
I guess where I am going here is that I recognize now (much from the experience of backpacking) better than ever before the importance of savoring the moments that encompass our life. Whatever challenges and trials come to pass, whatever we are working towards - live it and breathe it. It can be wonderful and blessed. And that is how I want to look back, feel in the present, and see into the future…
Lost in moonlit magic
…Back on Earth, with feet on the trail, I would hike on from my Lower Alpine View campsite up the steep ridge to Alpine View and take a moment to soak in the beauty of the day before continuing into the forest of mixed hardwoods, Hemlock and pine.
Taking it in at Alpine View
Alpine View from back on the trail
As the sun was going down and I began to wonder if I would be breaking out the camera on this adventure, I spied a little up ahead to my left what I had been hoping for since witnessing the woods at the trail’s beginning being encased in ice still from the storm a few days prior - a small little patch of evergreen forest glistening like diamonds from the ice that still clung to their branches and boughs. The only patch of forest, maybe a 30 foot stretch, where ice still clung to the trees in the 8 miles since the trailhead. The needle in the haystack, a rare gem indeed!
Needle in the Haystack
Moment captured in time and a few more miles to go, now mostly by headlamp and moonlight thanks to my pit stop, but also more to remember lovingly from this February frozen forest escape.”
All my best until next time,
Brandon
Moonlight stroll
