Personal Narrative: The Crackling Trail

A hill of aspens, glowing golden, shines on the right side of the trail while the left side is a pine-covered hill. Between the two is the trail, a magical escape from reality. This is my sanctuary of Buffalo Peaks wilderness. The trying experience of hiking through the mountains with 40 pounds on your back, the straps of your pack rubbing the skin off your hips and shoulders. The tension building in your muscles as you struggle under the weight. The pain that can only be diluted by a yoga session and a trip to the hot springs. Sun salutations in a lush, meadow valley. Warrior one and reverse warrior in the heat of the sun, relaxing from the miles we traveled just the day before.
Shimmering waterfall with the patchwork dam outlining the upper edge, perfectly designed to let out the right amount of water to create a wonderful, magical sight. An afternoon exploring the wetlands with a group of people I didn’t know until the trip started, but somehow became my closest friends.
A time where can we sing crazy songs, share life stories, reveal revelations, and laugh about our newly created inside jokes... “Kieran’s wet bottom!”... and just be ourselves. The bonding of being in the car is equally as important. You sing along to the pop songs on the radio and the soundtrack to everyone’s favorite disney movies. You play MASH and the alphabet game, you gossip about everything, and you completely forget the meaning of personal space. You also can’t forget about the rainy evenings spent in the tent playing cards and eating the food that you “forgot” to put into the bear bags hanging on the widowmaker across the