When the rain sets in, the skies push the grey down, the sun is a barely visible circle in the sky, I know I must seek the brightness of the mountains. Its a need of my soul to be surrounded by light, pushing the darkness away. The mountains offer that promise of light though temporarily. The white of the snow reflecting light all around even though the sun in nowhere in sight. We climb, first with the car, and then with our snowshoes on, pushing forward to possibly break through the clouds and feel that sun on our faces.
Artist point our destination, Isaac volunteered to sherpa the gear and Job attacked the mountain being in wrestling shape. At one point, John and I decided to walk around the hill so we could climb steadily but gradually while the young men went up the face. Unfortunately, once we reached the top they were nowhere in sight. We decided that they had gone ahead of us and we needed to catch up. Yet once we had crested the next hill, they were still nowhere to be found. It was then we realized that instead of turning towards Artist Point, they continued on, following the skiers tracks. They were lost; and that is how they felt about us. We regrouped within 20 minutes of wandering. Instead of the blue sky that would feed my soul, we found wind and clouds. Sheltering between a couple of hills, we quickly tore into our sandwiches, guzzled some hot chocolate and decided to turn around heading for the car. Once down the hill, the blue sky came out along with the camp robbers. A good day and a little bit of sun for the soul at the end.
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