ridge riders

by underswansea

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It was solid rain this morning. We had planned a hike. I stated I wasn’t hiking in such weather. My declaration was met with sad faces and I knew I had to reconsider. The rain would be snow in the high country. ‘Shit’, was all I could muster.

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Our mountaineering party set out, late after 10 pm. It was slick through the bush. We gained elevation with the peaks shrouded in clouds. All I could think about was how slippery it would be coming down through the trees, rocks and mud.

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We stopped at the top of the pass and had a snack. Willow and I took leave of the party and walked the ridge towards Chisel. We basked in the gold of the turning tamaracks.

The ridge was waiting. It was only through cloud that it could be reached. The views were the shits, white in every direction. Every now and again the mountains would appear and let you know how high we were.

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My beautiful daughter Maddy held my hand here and there. Her cheeks were cold, but she kept it up. Chad and Todd marvelled at the mountains. They have respect, they learned in one day, what mountains can do. And my good neighbour walked the ridge and will never ask again why I wear long underwear and pants.

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Willow proved herself again. She loves the bush and can’t get enough.

These are the days.

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