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  Have you ever walked at night, and knew that you were somewhere unlike any place that you’ve been before, or might ever be again? Have you ever watched the moon ascend, as it climbs over the tree tops, shining the brightest light you’ve ever seen? Or looked up into the sky and swore you’ve never seen so many stars in all of your life, and there is no additional, unnecessary noise, no cars, no horns, no city bustle, just the wind and the trees; and the moonlight, creating a shadow that contrasts the glistening snow so perfectly all that you need to do is to take a mental picture that will last forever? And as I did all of these things, all the while mesmorized by Mount Hood off in the distance, I thought, honestly to myself, “If I made this trip for one reason, this might be it.” And then I thought again, “If I Didn’t come to Oregon, I wouldn’t have been able to witness nature, so beatiful, so serene, so real.”

I can’t explain how that first 2 hours of the trip to Mt. Hood, all spent hiking(ok, snow shoeing) to our cabin, made me think about the past few months for me. I tried to convince myself that this was just a silly trip, one that perhaps I didn’t really even want to go on, but as we hiked, I had to succumb to the realization of the picturesque winter barrage that came my way. The outside noise ceased, the trail became so dark(and we didn’t have a headlamp or flashlight), but the moon was so bright, I can’t even fully explain it. Seriously, when is the last time that you were somewhere walking and saw so clearly your shadow at night? That night was perfect, because the next few days was all snow, so we weren’t able to see Mt. Hood for the rest of the trip. But even when the snow came, it was so unique. It was like being in our own bubble, a perpetual snow globe(which my brother claims to have invented, but has yet to reap any of the financial rewards). The flakes were larger as the day went on, and the joy that I got out of looking at snow from different angles, it was almost childlike, but I couldn’t help but peer up to the sky, watching the snow fall from above, or try to watch as it hit the ground, but it was so thick, you weren’t able to tell where the snow stopped and the ground began.  

I look forward to my next trip to Mt. Hood, which will be for sure to downhill ski at Timberline. It has been about 6 years since I went down any hills of significance, but hopefully I’ll pick up where I left off. I would say that to go snow shoeing, you need to be in some sort of shape. You hike for 3-6 miles, sometimes up hills, and it can tax you. Certainly not as much as cross-country skiing, but it is a good workout. I enjoyed the trails we went on Sat., even when we got lost, and had to take on a hill downwards that no one had been on for who knows how long, probably years. But, it was a shortcut, and the group was feeling adventurous. I went along, all the time half focused on my footing, and the other half admiring the thousands of snow-capped trees lining the hills. Perhaps I should have been more focused, as I fell several times. I was just trying to take pictures, those mental pictures that are hard to erase.

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