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Relaxing in Discomfort

Thru-hiking the Uinta Highline Trail

What these pictures fail to show is the worst. It's a blinded view of backpacking this trail. Weather has become inevitably more sporadic everywhere, and due to the trail's short window of passing, it is now no different. The group was stuck in tents for around 16 hours at one point. After getting over dead horse pass, the sleet, rain, and hail mixture not only continued, but worsened. Bundled up in a single tent for warmth in our now wet down garments, I let out a single tear. Triggered by a single sip passed around the group perhaps. Or fear of being struck by lightning. We were navigating through large, black, wood, headstones all afternoon.

You don't take pictures of the bad moments, but maybe you should.

They're the most human part about any of this. But put your blinders back on real quick. These are decent pictures.


Sheep dog Frederick. Man, was he a regal protector.

You could smell it, hear it, taste it, it burned and singed the nose. Headstones.

The next day the ground was covered in snow, making the already hard to find trail even harder amidst the burn fields. Every river and stream crossing strenuous and creative to say the least. Weirdly happy coming off the trail though. The thought of warm, dry, clothing sustained everything but my deep hunger for the worlds largest burger. Fries. Milkshakes.

When we got around to shuttling me back to my truck the trail was caked and frosted on that side too.

"The mountains don't want us here."

We drove through the night getting home around one I believe. Dylan said his roommates surprised him when he got home and he almost collapsed into a fetal position in the kitchen. It was overwhelming. I dried out my stuff in the living room. Watched the experience go down the shower drain.

Crawling into bed, sleep was hard to track down. My mind was weighted with pure happiness and adrenaline still. Every now and then I reach back and suck the reserves. I'll fill er' up in May. Peace.

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