#goat rock wilderness

[vintagecamping]

Hikers at Goat Rocks Wilderness

California

June 1971

[pcttrailsidereader]

Did You Know?

On September 3, 1964, President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the Wilderness Act into law. This law created the National Wilderness Preservation System to protect undeveloped land, "retaining its primeval character and influence" with "outstanding opportunities for solitude or a primitive and unconfined type of recreation." The Wilderness Act remains one of the world's longest standing acts of legislation for wilderness. The Act has been noticed by other countries as a way to protect their own wild places, biodiversity and ecosystems. No small testament to the power of protecting our most wild places not just in the United States but throughout the world.

Near Pleasant View Ridge Wilderness

It seems to me that if you have thru hiked the Pacific Crest Trail sights and sounds, landmarks and monuments get seen, heard, passed through and in some cases passed over. Section hikers on the other hand may have a similar experience to thru hikers but likely given the nature of sectioning may allow for lingering longer along the way.

Whether or not you are or know a thru hiker or you are or know a section hiker did you know the Pacific Crest Trail passes through fifty wilderness areas (both federal and state). More than any other National Scenic Trail in the United States. From fifteen identified wilderness areas in 1964 to fifty today, sixty years later, the importance of these lands is obvious. Acknowledging and protecting these spaces really hits anyone who has the opportunity to visit and/or pass through. Here are a some that you may have visited or heard about from south to north on the PCT; Hauser, Anza-Borrego, John Muir, Desolation, Marble Mountain, Three Sisters, Goat Rocks, and Pasayten.

Across three states these wilderness areas are a tribute to the importance of protecting large forests and watersheds that together help combat climate change. These spaces not only offer safe refuges for threatened plants and animals but offer a gateway for humans to connect more deeply with nature. Finally, many wilderness areas intersect and envelope indigenous peoples' ancestral lands. Taking into account the treasure these spaces hold as homelands for these native people.

Sixty years on the Wilderness Act is a shining piece of legislation that has evolved over six decades. As time as gone by the protected lands have grown from 9.1 million acres to over 111 million acres. The Pacific Crest Trail has enjoyed a great benefit thanks to the Wilderness Act.

If you didn't know it before, take some time to find out more about the wilderness areas all along the PCT. You can explore them even if it is a day hike. You will not be disappointed. In a these times when we question so many things including the choices our leaders make, we can be proud of the fact that sixty years later we still recognize the importance of wilderness. In this sixtieth year of existence protecting wilderness for generations to come is essential as long as we do not lose sight of why, as a nation, we value these places so deeply.

[onehikeaweek]

Tieton Peak in Goat Rocks Wilderness via Bear Creek Mountain / 泰頓峯

Tieton Peak in Goat Rocks Wilderness via Bear Creek Mountain / 泰頓峯

Tieton Peak by Ives Peak ranks #7 in Goat Rocks Wilderness after Old Snowy Mountain. The east ridge joins Bear Creek Mountain via Devils Horns. Meanwhile, Gilbert Peak, the highest point in the area, rises to the south. Tieton Peak from Bear Creek Mountain See more trip photos here. Tieton Peak + Bear Creek Mountain + Devils Horns at a Glance Environs = Bear Creek Mountain + Devils…

[expressions-of-nature]

Goat Rocks Wilderness, Washington by Jim and Nina Pollock

[meanpregcomm]

What Is Happening?

It was dark, and the man lay down next to her on her futon. She was very sleepy and warm and comfortable. He lay down behind her, spooning her, and touched her between her legs with his fingers. It didn't feel good or bad, just weird. She was too sleepy and comfortable wrapped in his arms to tell him to stop, and after a while it started to feel better. She could feel that she was slick between her legs, where the pee came out, and she start to feel a little achy. The man could tell, she thought, because he began to push his fingers inside, which made the ache stop. He'd stop, and it would start again, and she'd move against him to make him go back to pushing. Even when she felt a sudden sharp pain, she still wanted him to push, and the pain went away almost instantly. After a while he pulled his fingers out, and she was annoyed, until he put something bigger in her to push with and that felt softer and thicker than his fingers.

He only pushed inside her for a few second before he stopped, and wet sticky stuff ran out between her legs. In the dark she could hear him fumbling with his clothes, and then he got up and left, just as suddenly as he came.

Living on her own, in the remote Alaskan wilderness, after her doomsday prepper parents died in a house fire when she was seven. Alta had only met six people her entire life--her mother, father, little brother, their next-"door" neighbor, a man in his seventies living five miles away, the clerk at the county store, and a hiker who had gotten lost in a storm and stayed with them in their cabin for a few nights before setting back onto his trail. Her brother had died only weeks after her parents from his injuries, but Alta had managed to stay alive. The house had sustained only minor damage, Alta's parents had been unlucky enough to be in the only part of the house that had collapsed, the back porch, and as a child living off grid, she knew enough to keep herself fed. The goats had survived, and some of the chickens returned after their initial flight of terror, and Alta had never been to school or on a playdate, so she continued doing the only thing she knew--surviving off the land and reading the bible her father had heavily annotated.

A few times a year as a teenager she made the twenty-mile walk to the store in the county seat, picking up electrical tape, bulk oatmeal, new underwear and kerosene, and, one year, a kitten. She always left if another customer came in--years of solitude had made her very shy.

But now that she was a young woman of nineteen, when a strange man had walked onto her property, asked quietly if he could rest there, and lay down with her in the dark, she didn't feel as shy.

To her surprise, he came back a week later. He came a little earlier in the evening, and she offered him a bowl of black bean soup. He wasn't much of a talker, and she appreciated that. When the sun went down, she lay down, hoping he'd follow her. He did, and this time he got on top of her and spread her legs gently with his thigh. She could see him holding his penis, and he put it in her again, pushing gently against her as he did. Remembering the last time, she gritted her teeth at first, but as he rocked against her over and over it began to ache again in that satisfying way, and she started to feel pins and needles. But then he grunted and the white sticky stuff came out again, and dripped down between her thighs. He knelt next to her and cleaned himself off, then lay back down beside her and threw his arm over her. Soon, he was snoring. She carefully snuggled back against him and listened to his heartbeat as she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning he did it to her again, and this time she had lots of pins and needles and she started to feel like she was about to pee, but then he released inside her again and it was over. He left for good that time, thanking her for letting him stay with her and telling her he was headed back to Idaho.

---

It started with a feeling like the flu. She had had the flu once, and her mother had wiped her forehead with icy cold washcloths, and given her mullein tea and extra food. She tried that, and it helped for a few days, but soon she wasn't keeping anything down in the mornings. And then she wasn't keeping anything down in the afternoons either. She had trouble keeping the property running, but she grit her teeth and told herself for the hundredth time what her dad had always said: if you can't trust yourself to take care of yourself, who can you?

Then the dreams started. She dreamed of him coming back and putting himself inside her, and this time, not exploding until she found out what that pins and needles feeling would turn into. She would lie in her bed, stroking her suddenly hyper sensitive nipples, and one evening she found out that touching where he'd touched while touching her nipples gave her that pins and needles feeling really quickly.

The dreams were the least of her problems though when she realized what was happening to her belly and breasts. They could only be described as ballooning outward. Her breasts were much larger and heavier than they had been four months ago, and they would have hung off her body uncomfortably were it not for the drum-tight shelf of flesh where her flat tummy used to be. She was utterly confounded by her weight gain--she was so fat now and yet she hadn't changed her eating habits at all.

Her belly only continued to get bigger over the months. She began to wonder if something was horribly wrong with her. The dreams stopped, and the nausea stopped, and her breasts even stopped their alarming rate of growth, but her belly just continued growing outwards until she was as wide as the doorway to her living room--a fact she discovered when she got stuck in it for two embarrassing, painful hours, eight months after she'd met the strange man. And then her belly got so fat that she couldn't get into her house at all, through any of the doorways. Luckily it was summer, so she slept outside in a hammock, but doorways weren't her only problem. She was too fat to bend at the waist, too big to sit upright, and her belly was so hard and heavy that she couldn't work for more than a half an hour at a time. Things were getting so dire that she contemplated walking into town and asking the clerk to phone the town doctor. Her father had warned her against the evils of western medicine, but she wasn't going to be able to work at all if she kept growing like this.

Before she could decide to call the doctor, nine months after the man from Idaho had stayed with her and made her feel good between her legs, her enormous belly suddenly seized in a terrible cramp. She gasped, the wind nearly knocked out of her by the pain.

Before she could fully recover, another contraction seized her burdened belly. She dropped to her knees and held her swollen middle with both hands.

to be continued...

[aeolianblues]

🎵 SONG-TO-GO 🎵

It's Friday again, which means unbelievably, I get to do yet another song wizard new music Friday. For a 5th week! Somehow you're all still here. I'm not out of music, so let's do this!

For the uninitiated, Song-To-Go is a weekly song poll to take a lesser-known song along with you as you scroll!

As with last week, choose songs based on the 30-second Spotify snippets if you don’t know them (I’ve tried to make sure there’s something you won’t know), and if you like them they’re yours* to carry along on your trip!

*as in add them to your library etc., if you like them a lot come ask me and I’ll try and dig up a Bandcamp like for you, hee hee

[last week’s poll, now complete, and you can see the results. Or just listen to more music! And then tell me about it :) ]

This week's picks are all about rock and weird but really catchy indie (and the one ska punk track). What other genres do you want to hear in the next few weeks?

As always, poll’s open for a week, so if you miss this one, I’ll be back with another one by next Friday. I think I'll also keep a running playlist of everything I've posted so far, plus others I'm planning to use for upcoming weeks because honestly, I don't really feel like there's a magician's cloth I'm pulling back to reveal songs. A lot of this is actually just stuff I've played on introducing radio over the last 4 years :P

The growing playlist, here.

Happy scrolling! If you want to give your mutuals a few new songs, reblog and tell them what you liked. Happy listening!

[haganezukawaifu]

𝑅𝑜𝓈𝒶 𝒟𝑜𝓁𝒸𝑒 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟨

~𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 ~ 𝓜.𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽~ 𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽 ~

My sleep was interrupted by a smell that woke me up. I sniffed again and it didn't smell like smoke. I jump out of bed, leave my room and walk downstairs. The moment I got downstairs, I saw Cordelia in the kitchen, cooking. I checked the time and it was 5 am. So early. I walk into the kitchen and the sound of my feet patting on the floor alerts Cordelia to my presence.

Seeing me, Cordelia said, "I knew you will awaken." I cross my arms and look at the pan. "How can I not when you're making my favorites?" Cordelia chuckles softly. "I know I will not be back until Sunday evening. But I had to start on your dinner so you don't have to worry about cooking when you get home and breakfast as well," she said as she set a pancake on a plate. I nodded my head as she cooked. From what I could see, she made homemade pancakes for me and croque madame for her. Her favorite meal. Seeing that she had finished cooking, I asked Cordelia.

"Hey. Cordelia. Do you know Latin by chance?" Cordelia hesitates before responding "Not really. I'm not skilled at it. Why. Are you studying Latin at school?" she asked. I shook my head and lied "There is an essay for English. And some words are in Latin. I just need to translate them for my paper." Cordelia nods her head in response before putting food in the fridge. "Well, I have a Latin-English dictionary in my office. You can use it for your essay," she says. "That's very helpful. I'll use it for my homework before bed," I said.

I had to know what those words meant. I couldn't talk to Alice. I haven't seen her for two days at school. Speaking of school, Bella was taken home during biology. I didn't expect her to be weak from the blood smell. However, Edward took her home, which shocked me. The next day, he didn't show up. Something about camping in the Goat Rock Wilderness. Which was weird. I wouldn't expect Edward to be the camping type. Looks more like an indoor person to me. I saw Cordelia take off her apron and hang it up and double-check everything in her daily routine before leaving. A habit she does that I now do occasionally. Once she did that, she stopped in front of the door and asked, "Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" "I can reschedule this meeting and work with you." As I shook my head, I could tell she was worried about me. "I'll be fine. Now go to your meeting and enjoy Seattle," I said as I grabbed her hands and held them. Cordelia smiles and nods. I let go of her hands before grabbing her luggage.

"Okay. I'm off. I'll let you know when I get to the hotel. Call me when you need anything," Cordelia said before pecking my head. I nodded my head in response. As she exited the front door, she walked to her black BMW. I wave goodbye as she waves back and gets into her car. I watch as she pulls out of the driveway. I sighed. It was 6:20 when I checked the wall clock. There was no point in getting back to sleep so I ate breakfast. I don't have to be at the shop until 8 and open up, so why not eat breakfast before getting dressed for work. I wore a simple beige jacket with a graphic tee, jeans, and boots. Nothing special. I grab my keys and my backpack. I double-check everything before leaving home. As soon as I exit the door, I lock the door and walk to my car and get inside. I drive straight to Aphrodite Garden.

The shop wasn't far from home. It was close to Newton's Olympic Outfitters and bookstores. It was 20 minutes away. While driving, I listened to my music. Once I arrive at the shop, I park my car and sigh.

'Okay, Christine. You can do it. You can handle a shift alone. Nothing but floral arrangements and phone calls.'

I exhale, open the car door, and get out of the car. I grab the shop key out of my bag and unlock the shop. The moment I open the door, the bell rings. Time to work. I turn on the light and walk into the back and set my things down in Cordelia's small office. I grab my lavender apron with my name and the shop emblem on it.

"Welcome to Aphrodite-." I stood there and saw Bella. "Hey," Bella greeted. "I thought you were heading to First Beach." "Your lights were on so I assumed you were open," Bella replied. I nodded my head. "I have to put things up before flipping the open sign. I thought you were already off to First Beach," I exclaimed as I picked up a box of plant pots and walked off. "No. We're waiting for Lee and Samantha," Bella replied as she shook her head and followed behind. "Didn't you invite anybody?" I asked. "Well I asked you but you're working and I asked Edward but he declined and he said he doesn't think Mike will like him over," Bella responded. I set the pot down by the delphinium. "I see. Maybe he wants to have you all to himself. I mean he did take you home on Wednesday," I say as I look at her. She looks away as she blushes. I chuckle at her bashfulness.

Before I could say anything, I heard the bell ring at the entrance door. "Welcome to Aphrodite-." I saw Mike standing at the entrance. "Hey. Bella. We're ready to go," Mike replied. In response, Bella nodded and said, "Okay." Mike noticed me. "You know Christine? Since you're Bella's friend. You can come along whenever you get off," Mike suggested. "You know that would be quite inviting Mike but I have to work a full shift here. Maybe next time." I smiled gently. "Okay then. Let's go, Bella. You can sit up front in the passenger seat," Mike said. "See you later," Bella said. I wave goodbye as Bella and Mike walk out. I checked the time and it was 8. Well, I'm officially open. Time to work.

After waiting, I didn't get a customer until 30 minutes later. She waited for a florist arrangement for her table, and I was happy to help. After I helped the lovely customer, the day proceeded as it should. I packed up some orders for funerals, weddings, newly born, birthdays, etc., and kept the flowers watered and fresh. Hydrangeas need attention today. I also advise clients on flower combinations. I also had to get updated orders from suppliers. Cordelia calls periodically to check on me, of course. But I was glad to hear her voice. Hours had passed and it was time to close the shop for the day. I sighed. I made it through the day. I began to sweep the floor, wipe the counter, etc. Once I did, I reviewed Cordelia's checklist and completed every task. After hanging up my apron, turning off the lights, and locking up the store, I left the shop. I saw Bella's truck but not Mike's car. Maybe they aren't back yet. After shrugging my shoulders, I drove home in my car.

After a 20-minute drive, I finally arrived home. I got out of my vehicle, stepped inside, and hung my keys on the key hook. I walk into the kitchen and get out the dish Cordelia made this morning and put it in the oven. The good news is she prepared it for me and I only have to put it in the oven. While that was cooking, I walked upstairs to Cordelia's office. It was time to find out what those words meant. I ventured into Cordelia and grabbed her Latin-English dictionary, and began my research. During my search, I came up with a few translations of my own.

'Thus it has always been, and thus it will always be.'

'Life is short, art is long.'

'No one is above the law; it is right and always will be.'

'No one is above the law; it has always been this way and always will be.'

'Life Short Artis.'

So many translations and none make sense. After a while, I put things into perspective, and an answer came to light.

"Life is short, Art is long. Death yours; life mine. No one is above the law. Thus it has always been and thus it will always be."

What does that mean? Life is short. Death yours. No one is above the law. It has always been and will always be. I have so many questions yet I don't know the answers to any. I open my laptop and search once more, this time for my longing question. As I sought to answer the question of my longing, I searched online. Something about those red eyes? Why do I dream of them? What does it mean? I typed on my computer.

'What does it mean to dream of someone you have never met?'

As soon as I clicked on the enter button, multiple results appeared. The top answer was destiny and longing to be with them. Soul Mates it said.

A soulmate. Those red eyes. They are my soulmates. But if that is true, where are they? Do they see me? Do they know I exist? I snap out of my thoughts as I hear the timer downstairs in the kitchen go off. I walk out of the office and reach downstairs to the kitchen to take my food out of the oven. Cordelia's dish looks delicious and tastes good. After dinner, I read "The Great Gatsby". I remember reading this book 2 years ago. It was quite enlightening. After finishing a couple of chapters, I fell asleep. I tried to fight it as much as I could but resisting sleep became a failure. Soon I drifted off to sleep the next day.

I slowly opened my eyes and found myself in a familiar location, back in the room. Only this time I was different. I stood at the door. What would this door lead me to at this time? I open the door and walk inside. I was in a library. Full of books that reach the sky. I couldn't recall so many classics. Some I had never heard of. I reached out to touch the book's hardcover until I heard the door open and hide. All I heard were footsteps and nothing more. While I waited for them to leave, I remained silent. I couldn't stop my heart from beating so loudly.

"Tesaro. Why do you hide?" I heard. "Your heart beats quickly. Don't be afraid. Come. Show yourself," said another voice. A different voice. But this voice had a gentle tone to it.

Standing there, I pondered my thoughts. Should I show myself or stay hidden? I had to know who these figures were. Taking a step, I turned the library shelf corner and saw three figures looking at me. As I stood in front of them, I analyzed their features. The three of them were quite different from one another. One had long jet-black hair and translucent skin. The other had snow-white shoulder-length hair as his skin was pale and translucent. Lastly, the last man had black hair that was shoulder length. His skin, on the other hand, was pale. Both were tall and average-built. However, their eyes conveyed a sense of comfort and kindness in addition to their beauty. I was stunned. I sat on the floor looking up at them.

"Come, Cara Mia," the jet-black-haired man said as he extended his hand toward me. I hesitated to grab it until I extended my hand to touch his. The moment our hands touched, he held it with care as I slowly walked toward him. He never let go of my hand as we left the library. The moment we walk down the hall, we stop at the window. He turns to face me, as I did, and the two men beside him turn as well. There was silence as the man that held my hand pecked on my hand palm. I let out a gasp as I stared at him. He looks at me with adoration as he reaches forward to touch me. But before he could.

I awaken from my sleep and lay there for a moment. I lifted my hand into view, the same hand he pecked. His touch was delicate and his lips were soft. The way they looked at me, their beauty alone was all I could think about. Suddenly the phone rang, causing me to snap out of my train of thought. Must be Cordelia. I ran downstairs to answer the phone. "Hello," I answered. "Hey, Christine. It's Bella," I heard on the phone. Bella. I checked the clock and it was 5 a.m. So early. What is she doing calling me this early? "I didn't wake you, did I?" Bella said. As I shook my head, I replied, "No, you didn't. I just woke up anyway." 'Oh' is all I heard on the other line of the phone. "What is it? You're calling pretty early?" I said. "Well, I have been doing a bit of research lately," Bella told me.

'Research'

"What research have you been doing?" I asked curiously. "Well you know I went to First Beach today," Bella mentioned. In response, I hmm. In addition, Bella mentions that she met someone named Jacob Black. "Jacob?" I asked. "Charles bought the truck from his dad," she said. 'Ah' is the only sound I make. "Was that it? That you met someone named Jacob, whose truck your dad brought?" I inquired. "That's not it. Jacob told me some old stories that shook me," Bella added. Stories. I asked her what kind of old stories and she answered "It was about the Cullens." My eyes widened as I heard Cullen's name through the phone. What about the Cullens? "I'm sorry. Did you just say the Cullens? What about them?" I asked. There are stories about the Quileutes, she told me. Some claim to date back to the Flood where they tied their canoes to the top of the tallest tree in the mountains to survive like Noah did. Other claims that they descended from wolves. "Then there were the cold ones," Bella said.

'The cold one.'

"Jacob told me that the cold one's stories were old as legend. His great-grandfather knew some of them. He made a treaty with them to keep them off their land," Bella said. "A treaty. So was he like a chief or something?" Bella replied, "He was a tribal elder and the cold ones were enemies of the wolves. But not just any wolf, but werewolves as he called them. Despite his great-grandfather's truce with them, the cold ones claim they do not hunt humans. That they somehow feed on animals instead." Werewolves. Cold ones. This story has so much. But I only have one question.

"How does the cold one have anything to do with the Cullens? They can't be the same as the legends he told you about. Could they?" I wonder. "He said they were the same." I sat there quietly. As per legend, the Cullen could not be the cold one. "If the Cullen are the same as those in the legend, they are what?" I asked. Through the phone, Bella replied "Blood drinkers Jacob told me. Or in other words,"

'Vampires.'

I stood there in shock. There's no way. It can't be. Werewolves. Vampire. They can't be real. Only books and movies depict them. Vampires sleep in coffins. They don't walk out in daylight. During the night, they feed on humans. It just didn't sound like the Cullens. "Christine. Are you still there?" Bella called out to me. "Umm. Yeah. Just a bit overwhelmed. I just don't think the Cullens are vampires," I replied. "I researched, and there are different vampire myths held throughout the world, such as Danag, Varacolaci, and Stregoni benefici. I also compared it to each myth. Speed, strength, pale skin, eyes that shift color," Bella said.

My mind wanders back to that school day. Before the accident. The day Edward stopped the van from hitting Bella. As well as the pale skin, the eyes. Not only were there comparisons to them but also to the figure in my dream. Could Edward be a vampire? "And there was more. Some say some vampires can be drawn to you and appear in your life," Bella said. "That would explain my dreams." "Your dream?" Bella inquired. Before realizing what I had said, I was silent. Did I just mention my dreams? I heard Bella call my name as I sighed. I couldn't hide it anymore. If I need to tell anyone, I can tell Bella. I can trust her.

"Bella. I think it's better if I come over. There is something I need to tell you.”

[bandydear]

imagine for a moment that you are Lisa Yellowjackets and you’ve been moving up the ranks of this cult intentional community and your mom boss therapist? cult leader mom tasks you with a super important job: stalk this girl she went to highschool together with. and you do it. you and your purple comrades pile in to a minivan and follow a pair of women who seem to be either criminal masterminds or having a nervous breakdown or both. you watch one of them smash open a vending machine to get her hot cheetos. you desperately want this woman to take you to soccer practice. and every day you call home to report your findings to your mom boss cult leader mom and she’s like “haha classic Natalie” but you’re not allowed to come home until “she’s safe” which you understand because this woman tries to kermit with the rifle she keeps in her room and you and the gang make a snap decision to not allow that so you now have kidnapping on your record and Natalie stabs you in THE FACE. and mom barely even tells you good job and her vibes with Natalie are SO WEIRD. like she still gets passive aggressive every time you get her drink order wrong (and you swear she asked for the macca root but now she’s humble bragging about her libido in front of Natalie and OH GOD THEY ARE EXES. THEY HAVE HAD SEX. SEX HAVERS.) so you have a stepmother now and she’s going with you to sell honey at the market and she keeps giving you driving tips so you know mom told her about The Incident which was totally Todd’s fault and not yours. anyway your stepmom steals your fish from your real mom and you kinda bonded okay? except boss mom has started locking herself in her cabin at odd hours of the day and staring at her hands and you’re pretty sure they’re fucking because your stepmom is having an existential crisis about some guy named Travis and oh god her little blonde friend is here and you hate this woman on sight. she has the arsenal of a serial killer and she just will not. get in the fucking. isolation tank. AND she brought all of their other highschool friends with them (including the senator of New Jersey???) and these women have the most rancid vibes you have ever encountered. one keeps yelling about how she’s going to kill baby Bruce the goat. you avoid them as they all get drunk, but your stepmom tells you to leave the compound literally the next day and mom is looking fantastic but also rocking these Jonestown vibes. so, you steal your stepmother’s gun because these women are doing some kind of fucked up wolfpack hunger games in the back yard and you need to be able to fire off a warning shot in case that one lady goes after Bruce and it turns out you’re not the only one with a gun because this girl shoots your mom in the fucking arm and she?? walks it off??? like the fucking terminator???? and everyone is talking about murder and the wilderness and Natalie goes for Mom with A KNIFE so you point the gun at her cause THAT’S YOUR FUCKING MOM and the blonde one tries to kill you with a needle so that’s how you got and lost a stepmother and inherited a honey empire in the space of like a week

[turtleduckscribbles]

Close to Home

“No matter where I go to offer aid, Link remains at my side…”

~A brief exploration of Zelda’s personal journey toward home, and how she finds it in Link.

Read on AO3 or continue below.

<< Chap 1 <<

~o~o~o~o~o~

Chapter 2: "The Whole Picture"

On their trek south, back across the Lanayru Wetlands and back again through Kakariko, it became painfully obvious to Zelda that she was not the same peppy adventurer she used to be. Where once she had sprung with boundless energy over rocks and crags, now she ached and toiled over the slightest slope. Slips and stumbles became increasingly commonplace the longer she walked. Now, as they reached the bridge at the bottom of the steep hill outside the Sheikah village, she fell heavily against the stone supports, huffing up a storm.

“Princess?”

She winced, her insides twisting unpleasantly at the word. Compared to her physical discomforts, it was nothing to bat an eye over, a term of address that was old hat. But something about hearing the honorific from his lips didn’t sit quite right with her anymore.

“Not to worry,” she breathed, putting on a brave face, hair stuck to her clammy forehead. “I’ll just… be a moment…”

Without missing a beat, Link was there. Like he had countless times throughout their travels, he offered her water flask and a steadying arm, both of which she welcomed.

“Almost there,” he said. “Stable’s just up the road.”

Zelda nodded, too weary to provide further speech. They hadn’t even been on the move a full two hours that morning and already she was spent. She quaffed her water, gasping when she came up for air. Link stood patiently by until she gave her cue, then helped her up, her fingers gripping his arm for support.

With the added assistance of her knight companion, the last leg of the trip proved much more manageable for the careworn princess. Link matched her pace perfectly, taking things slow, his hand over hers on his bicep. Zelda squeezed him gently in appreciation.

Thankfully, Link was right. Half an hour later, the Dueling Peaks Stable came into view, the equine edifice towering overhead. It hadn’t changed since their last visit weeks before; patrons and livestock flocked the area, going about their daily routines. Goats bleated and quirky merchants chaffered their wares. Cuccos clucked and scratched at the dirt. Link guided her over to a stump by the communal cooking pot and, once she was comfortable, made a beeline for the proprietor.

Zelda stretched out her legs, relieved to be seated. The burn in her calves really nagged at her. She looked around.

Eyes encircled her from all sides. Blatant, curious eyes. She felt her stomach drop. Caught off guard, she gave a strained smile that swiftly turned grimace; her gaze fell, hands clenching in her lap.

She remained like this, folded in on herself, until a shadow passed over her. Timidly, she glanced up and was met by a relief. Having returned from the stable counter, Link had moved to disrupt the examination, blocking her from view of the unabashed patrons. He placed himself deliberately next to her on the stump and stared back at them brazenly, leaving no room for debate.

The onlookers dispersed. Heart rate slowing, Zelda released a pent-up breath and nestled into her protector. Gradually, she felt the tension leave Link’s frame too, and he laid claim to the cooking pot, his arm flush against hers all the while. 

They commenced their lunch of fried egg and rice until the stable master approached with their horses, then they were, once again, on their way.

With the unpaved wilderness before her and the strain of society behind her, Zelda relaxed into the saddle. What a blessing to be off her feet. More to soothe herself than anything, she ran a hand down the broad, bristly neck of her steed. The noble white stallion snorted merrily, maintaining its leisurely walk. She hadn’t yet decided on a name for him; upon their reunion post-Calamity, Link had sweetly gifted him to her prior to setting out to Kakariko. He looked so much like her former mount that it sent a pang through Zelda’s chest—another one of many ghosts of her past. She looked away, eyes seeking out comfort.

Sitting astride his bay mare, Link was the epitome of the gallant knight. Shoulders squared, he rode abreast with Zelda on the road, letting her set the pace. The sacred sword, sheathed in its royal scabbard, at home on his back. The blue of his worn Champion’s tunic accentuating the luster of his eyes… Those same eyes currently held her captive, brimming with a tenderness that cut her to the core.

Those eyes… She could fall into those eyes… 

Zelda’s mind wandered. There had been a time in years past when she hadn’t a clue what was going on behind those eyes. Wistfully, she recalled how mad it drove her, how discouraged she’d felt, that she was, for whatever reason, not privy to the unspoken ruminations of his heart. At the time, she had taken this as a personal failure, another shortcoming of her own volition; but, as was her wont, she had completely missed the mark. As it so happened, Link too had his own demons—and it was only after accepting this truth that the barriers between them had finally come crumbling down.

And Link… oh, Link.

Ever since her return to the plane of mortality many weeks ago, Link hadn’t left her side. Where once he’d trailed a few steps behind her, like a constant, looming shadow, now he walked in parallel with her… like an equal. Though their relationship was presently on tentative ground—it was only natural, really, that they would need to reacquaint themselves with one another after a separation of time and memory—Zelda could confidently say that the two of them were far past any point of discord. Gone were the days of her misplaced animosity toward him; gone were his inveterate inhibitions around her. No… they were something much, much closer now.

Zelda tamped down a smile. While her Link was still the same reserved soul she’d always known, he also seemed… different. Freer, somehow. He was much more demonstrative in his behavior than he used to be, for one thing. Just the other day, she had watched him bounce in place, giggling as he celebrated a successful attempt at a new recipe. Link, giggling! She couldn’t recall that ever happening before. The sound had sent her soaring. His speech was markedly less restricted than it used to be too. And his touches…

Yes. He was far more liberal with his touches.

Zelda’s cheeks warmed. Images of their time on the road together flooded her mind: the grazing of elbows as they shared meals; his strong, supportive grip when hoisting her up inclines; the light brushes of his fingers whenever she’d fall and dirty herself.

And at Kakariko…

During their first overnight stay in Kakariko, shortly after the Calamity’s banishing, Impa had kindly suggested that Zelda lodge with them. Her granddaughter, Papaya (Zelda was still adjusting to the fact that Impa had a granddaughter), had graciously offered her bed to the displaced princess, to which she’d accepted with flustered thanks. Come night, however, before they’d all turned in, Zelda had found herself unreasonably tense. Objectively, she knew she shouldn’t be—she was staying with dear friends, after all—but even so, she couldn’t shake the feeling. The worst part of it all was that, for the life of her, she seemed utterly incapable of voicing her fears. Link must have picked up on her agitation; for that was when, in front of the chieftain’s entire house, he had taken both of her wringing hands in his own and held them with gentle care.

He had departed for the local inn soon afterwards, but all the same, he had left Zelda with the calming impression that he wasn’t going far, and, despite the instability encompassing them, everything would be okay.

A peal of distant thunder shook her from her thoughts. Overhead, a dense layer of cloud cover had rolled in unnoticed, groaning with the threat of rain. Zelda took in her surroundings.

She really shouldn’t have.

Death. Desolation. Decay far and wide. Mounds upon mounds of scorched ceramic rubble. Disintegrated ruins. 

Death.

Memory like never before seized her. It coiled around her, twisting and constricting, squeezing the air from her lungs. She felt the scene spinning around her, replaying the worst moments of her life: a red Malice-ridden sky heralding its arrival; their desperate flee from the decimated castle; the crackle of static on the Slate, cutting off the Divine Beasts, dooming her allies. And Link. Link, her dearest friend and protector, absorbing hit after hit intended for her, brought to his knees, gasping for breath, bleeding out before her very eyes…

“Princess?”

His gentle voice yanked her from her spiral. Breathless, she turned from the battered and broken Link of her memories to the healed and whole Link of the present, his eyes exuding concern. 

Blinking rapidly, Zelda allowed him to steer her away from the fragmented guardian husks of Blatchery Plain to the northern cliff face. They sought shelter from the incoming storm in a recess of the rock wall partially obscured by trees. After a graceless dismount, Zelda took cover from the slicing wind as Link went to situate the horses at the mouth of the hollow. Facing away from the turmoil outside, she collapsed onto the stony ground, her face screwed into a rictus.

Paralyzed in the past, she sat besieged until approaching footsteps announced his return. She didn’t look as he lowered himself next to her, their knees touching—but a light poke at her side shook her to her senses.

Link gestured to the Sheikah Slate at her hip. Zelda stared dazedly at his hand before his query registered in her mind; numbly, she unclipped it from her belt and handed it over. Link’s deft fingers flew over the screen, swiping and tapping, until he seemed to find what he was looking for. He shoved it back into her hands.

It took Zelda a second to process what she was looking at. When her vision finally focused, she found herself gazing at an image: A group of snout-nosed bokoblins stood awkwardly before the camera. It was only after considerable study of this image that she realized she was actually looking at a picture of Link.

Posed at the center of the group, Link was the star of the composition. What she had originally taken to be another bokoblin was in reality a bokoblin mask—or rather, helmet—and he wore it proudly. It had a bulbous nose with stitched-in button eyes, and a gaping, toothy mouth where his head fit snugly inside. He appeared to be having a grand old time; with one hand on his hip, he saluted the sky in a show of theatrics, a look of mock seriousness on his face. The encircling bokoblins all gawked at him in utter stupefaction. They clearly had no idea what to make of him. One of them was sniffing his armpit. Another was attempting to wedge its finger into his long felt ear.

It was, simply put, the most ridiculous, the most adorable thing she’d ever seen.

Zelda slapped a hand to her mouth, failing to stifle the strangled noise that bubbled up past her lips. What was the story behind this photograph? Was Link not in danger here? Had the monsters somehow accepted him as one of their own? Where did he even get that helmet? Questions such as these ran rampant in her mind as feelings of mirth crowded out the waves of despair that had threatened to drown her since their abrupt arrival at Fort Hateno.

Link hadn’t taken his eyes off her. He seemed to be waiting for something, some sort of cue or signal, stuck with bated breath in a limbo of uncertainty. Zelda’s heart melted. Even in a sea of stormy, violent tumult, his only concern was for her. She offered him a watery smile.

It was as if she had personally granted him permission to breathe again. With his shoulders loosening, Link smiled back, and to Zelda, it was pure light.

~o~o~o~o~o~

>> Chap 3 >>

[wish-incorrect-quotes]

Camping Trip

Wrote this because I thought Simon could use some cheering up after the movie. Also, I thought it would be fun for the group to get a little "heigh-ho" moment marching through the forest.

Simon was quickly starting to realize just how much he had missed spending time in the great outdoors. After his last birthday, it had always felt like there was a heavy fog settled over him, and he couldn’t feel any desire to go out on a hike when even getting out of bed could feel daunting.

But now… he wasn’t sure he could say he felt “normal” again. At least, not yet. But he did feel better. With the familiar sensation of leaves crunching under his feet, a light breeze rustling his clothes, and the bright sunlight adding a pleasant warmth to the day, he had a sense of enjoying something that had been missing for a while.

Though as much as he was glad to be out here again, it wasn’t exactly the peaceful experience it usually was. But, of course, he hadn’t really expected it to be a quiet sort of day. Not with the group of friends who were trailing along behind him.

“Is this where you met the grizzly bear? Are we gonna meet a bear? Do bears give hugs? Is that why people call it ‘bear hugs’? If we meet a bear, can we-”

“How about we stick to watching the wildlife from a distance, okay?” Dahlia interrupted Dario’s curious line of questioning.

Asha, however, was busy trying to keep track of a certain pet who was not part of the local wildlife that belonged off in the distance.

“Valentino, stick with the group, remember?” She called out.

Her pajama-clad goat, already halfway through climbing a steep wall of rock, glanced down with a disappointed sigh.

“But it’s going so slowly.” He objected, though he still obediently made his way down and trotted back to Asha’s side.

“I know, but us people need to stay on the path. Not all of us can go climbing up cliffs the way a goat can.”

She scooped him into her arms and offered him a carrot stick from the pouch around her waist, which quickly had Valentino forgetting any desire to rush ahead.

“I don’t see why we have to walk all this way instead of just riding a wagon.” Gabo muttered, shifting the weight of the pack slung over his shoulder.

“The trail’s too narrow further up. We wouldn’t be able to make it to the top.” Dahlia reminded him. “Besides, I told you I already packed everything we’ll need. You’re the one who insisted on bringing a bunch of extra stuff.”

“Well excuse me if ‘roughing it’ isn’t my idea of a good time. I still say it’s crazy to go sleep out in the wilderness when there’s perfectly good buildings back in the city.”

“Just be grateful I packed a very nice picnic for everyone.” Dahlia replied. “A lot of people put in the effort to find their own food while they’re out here.”

“I’ve done that before.” Simon decided to chime in. “Just came out here with a fishing pole, and whatever I catch is dinner."

 “I’m pretty sure we’d end up with someone scaring away all the fish if we tried that today.” He sent a pointed look at one of his friends trailing towards the back of the line.

As if on cue, the air suddenly rang out with a loud “AH-CHOO!” that echoed through the forest, and most likely had startled off a good amount of wildlife.

“Sorry. Pollen season.” Safi muttered sheepishly. He liked nature, he really did. He just wasn't so sure it liked him back.

While Bazeema paused to help him dig a few more handkerchiefs out of one of the bags, Hal’s face lit up with an idea.

“Hey guys, you know what we need?”

“Oh no.” Gabo groaned.

“Oh yes! Traveling music!”

“If anyone tries to make me sing, I swear I’m turning around and going home.”

“Alright, then you can whistle!”

The next thing they knew, Hal had cheerfully started up a surprisingly infectious tune. Though it did start off as whistling, it didn't take long before people started humming along, and then it unsurprisingly turned into singing after all. Gabo threw in a bit more grumbling under his breath, then decided he might as well put up with it. It would already be stuck in his head anyway. And while he hadn't planned to, he found himself absent-mindedly joining in after a few minutes.

Simon took a moment to glance at the group following behind him, and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw that everyone’s footsteps had instinctively fallen into the rhythm.

He didn't mind if it wasn't really a quiet and peaceful experience. Honestly, he'd rather have their chatter than be alone with his own thoughts right now. He wasn't sure if he even would have gone without them. And they had probably figured that out, too.

He knew that a lot of them didn’t tend to make up the most outdoorsy group, and he’d done his best to pick an easy trail that wouldn’t be difficult for them to manage. But even if he knew to expect a bit of complaining along the way (pretty much all of it from Gabo), it still made him feel warm inside to remember when he’d brought up the idea and everyone had agreed without any hesitation.

They had been worried about him, he knew that. And now that he finally felt ready to try getting back to something that had always cheered him up, they all wanted to be there for him. He really did have good friends. Better than he deserved, he briefly started to think. But he quickly shook the thought out of his head. Today was for letting himself have some happy thoughts.

Their path continued around a bend, then across a fallen tree acting as a bridge across a small ravine (it took quite a bit of encouragement to get Gabo feeling brave enough to cross it), and then it wasn’t much later before they could hear the sound of rushing water. And not long after, Dario was ecstatic to have located the source.

“Guys, there’s a WATERFALL!”

It was a rather picturesque sight, ribbons of water trailing into a little pool deep in the woods. And as he ran towards it, many of their friends following closely behind, Dahlia immediately knew it was much to late to get anyone to stop.

“At least take your shoes off if you’re going in!” She glanced over at Simon apologetically. “I hope we’re not throwing your schedule off.”

Simon shrugged good-naturedly. “We were probably about due for a break anyway.”

The point was for everyone to enjoy themselves, after all. And they certainly appeared to be having fun splashing around.

‐--------------------------------------------

Despite a few delays along the way, they reached the planned campsite with what should hopefully be plenty of daylight left to start setting up tents and getting a fire ready.

Despite being slightly out of practice, Simon had done this enough times that it didn't take him very long, so he began to wander through the group to see if anyone else needed help.

Despite Gabo's complaints about "roughing it," Bazeema had put together some rather comfortable looking sleeping bags, in everyone's favorite colors and patterns to boot. And once they had a campfire going, and the air was wafting with the smell of Dahlia expertly roasting their dinner, Simon would be surprised if anyone could manage to be in a bad mood.

And then, as the sky grew dark and last bits of red along the horizon disappeared, they were finally coming to the reason why they had selected tonight to come out here.

It started with one streak across the sky, then a few more, and before they knew it, the whole expanse above them was filled with the light of shooting stars.

"Oh, wow..."

With all of his friends lying on the ground around him to get a good look, Simon turned his head in the direction where he'd heard the breathless whisper, and saw Asha staring up in awe.

"It looks so beautiful out here."

"Do you think the one you met is up there?" Simon asked.

Asha's smile grew wider. "Absolutely. Star would never miss a chance to wave hello after we came all this way."

He leaned back again, his breath growing slow and relaxed as he tried to guess which one might be the wishing star Asha had brought into their lives.

As he'd learned, "sleepy" and "content" could be drastically different things. And tonight... he had a feeling he was going to sleep very contentedly.

[staghunters]

Yellowjackets Girl Loser Standoff

Can't add polls to reblogs, but @mercedesrollinballer was talking of one to settle this matter. (@mistysnat started it all)

Yellowjackets! Alive, but failing at every instance. Who's doing it the worst? Your pick! Arguments for each are under the Read, but if you are sure of your losing dog, then vote here!

PROPAGANDA UNDER THE CUT

Taissa Turner

Teen Eats dirt and is not aware of her shadow-self to an embarassing degree. Sets up an expedition to get to civilization with only a bit of rations and a compass, and nearly gets her gf killed (they don't find help btw). Her rushed funeral for clown Jackie indirectly causes the cannibalism. "You ate her face, Tai" and she didn't even remember it.

Adult Hires a vague hitman to spy on her surviving teammates because what are social skills? Has a Gorgeous wife and stable home and then chooses politics. Leaves her wife in a coma and her son with his gran to hitchhike to her ex because yea her evil double said so and that is definitely legit. Claims to be a skeptic about rituals until she is in the clear and can participate on the safe side lol. Marries a rock?? Is not getting that re-election.

Shauna Shipman

Teen Thinks screwing her bestie's beard is what will solve things. Related: is pregnant while stuck in the woods. Related: did not raise the baby to hunt down Jeff like she said she would. Verbal communication? We bottle up our emotions and then write them down on paper for everyone to read. Did a silly voice while playing around as the vessel for hunter guy in the seance. EVERY SECOND OF HER IN THE SHED WITH POPSICLE JACKIE. Throws a fit over not being crowned cannibal queen.

Adult Totally living her dream life. Thinks a posh british accent is sexy in her furniture store roleplay. Got in a fender bender with some guy, cheated with him, then murdered him and hid his body. Still hallucinates her bestie hanging around. Can only seem to find some joy in her life through Violence (maybe skip the sex-therapist and go looking for one that deals with anger issues). Thought that she Had to murder a baby goat when nobody said a word about that. Got hunted lol.

Misty Quigley

Teen Unhinged from the start. No social skills. Has the hots for her gay coach. Destroys the flight recorder because "uwu then people will need me" and not think about the consequences. People ditch her for the most part after first-aid isn't needed anymore (happy now, Misty?). Throws psychedelics in the stew (banned from kitchen). Snitches on Jackie not taking part in the saying thanks, which sparks the fight with Shauna, which gets Jackie dead, despite Jackie being one of the few (maybe only?) people to be nice to her. Speaking of, gets a new bestie and has her falling off the shit cliff. Cannot read the room during a baby shower. Theater kid. Has no cast-appointed middle name, but the fic-appointed one is "fucking" Adult Works in elderly care so she can munchausen someone in case she need a mood boost. Forces herself in Natalie's life. Is on true-crime reddit. Her only friend is a parrot. Has a murder basement that she doesn't actually use for murder. Reads trashy romance novels. Overshares on a first date. Hangs out with a dude and lets him reduce her talents to a shrivel. Infiltrates a cult for shits and giggles. "Misty, you actually killed somebody" KILLS HER FRIEND. SHE ACCIDENTALLY KILLS HER FRIEND

[pcttrailsidereader]

The Pacific Crest Trail: The US West Coast's 'greatest footpath'

By Gavin Scarff

One hundred years after the US designated the world's first wilderness area, an epic hike offers adventure seekers the chance to experience a slice of the nation's wild side.

On 3 June 1924, more than half a million acres of pristine mountain meadows, rock-walled canyons and aspen glades in south-west New Mexico's Gila National Forest were designated as the world's first protected wilderness area. One hundred years later, the National Wilderness Preservation System now counts 806 official "wilderness areas" spread across nearly 112 million acres in the United States – an area twice the size of the United Kingdom.

Two years after Gila's wilderness designation, educator and hiker Catherine Montgomery proposed creating "a high-winding trail down the heights of our Western mountains… from the Canadian Border to the Mexican [border]." The idea gained momentum during the 1930s under the stewardship of oilman and avid outdoorsman Clinton C Clarke, who dedicated much of his life to creating a border-to-border trail "traversing the best scenic areas and maintaining an absolute wilderness character", as he put it. This idea would eventually become the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT): a 2,650-mile path connecting Canada to Mexico and has been called the West Coast's "greatest footpath".

In 2023, craving a challenge that would break us from our desk-bound lives and thrust us into the wild, my partner, Claire Taylor, and I qualified as Mountain Leaders and set out on an epic journey to complete the entire PCT. For five months, we hiked past cascading waterfalls, snow-covered badlands and narrow slot canyons as we travelled south along "America's Wilderness Trail". Upon finishing, there was one section that really stuck out to us: the state of Washington, which is home to 31 designated wilderness areas (11 of which the PCT traverses).

The PCT section of Washington covers 505.7 miles of incomparable beauty over remote passes, snowy peaks and dense ancient forests with little sign of human life. And since Washington's portion of the PCT leads hikers through a greater percent of designated wilderness areas (63%) than the other two US states where the trail passes (Oregon and California, which contain 52% and 37%, respectively) it remains a true testimony to Clarke's vision of maintaining a slice of the original American wilderness.  

Into the wild

"But what about the bears?" Claire asked. I replied with the line I'd been telling myself: "The presence of bears embodies the wilderness that we are seeking." In all honesty, having never hiked in bear and mountain lion country, we were a little nervous. We were about to spend five months hiking the PCT with nothing but our tent and hiking poles to protect us. But on our first day, we jumped out of the back of a pick-up truck whose faded bumper sticker read, "Into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul", and onto the trail.

We had spent an hour cramped among a handful of other hikers bumping along a dusty dirt road that wound its way along steep cliff edges from the small village of Mazama, Washington, to the trailhead at Hart's Pass, stopping just once for a herd of large white mountain goats to cross. Since it isn't permitted to cross a remote, unmanned border into the US from Canada, most travellers hiking southbound actually start here at Hart's Pass. They then trek north for 30 miles to "tag" the border before returning along the same trail where the pick-up truck had dropped us off four days earlier.

The North Cascades

Our journey started in the North Cascades, a vast mountain chain spanning more than 500 miles known for its jagged peaks, subalpine meadows, glaciers and waterfalls. "If you look at a map of Washington state, all the wildest places run down the spine of the North Cascades mountains," says Chris Morgan, an ecologist, filmmaker and podcaster who has called the North Cascades home for the past 30 years. "That spine is where our wilderness areas protect the wildest of our wild – [our] untamed landscapes where nature rules and reconnecting with raw, unfiltered life is still possible." As Claire and I peered out from the dense forest up to the towering mountains that we would soon ascend and pass through, we were struck by the utter vastness, remoteness and grandeur before us.

Ancient "blowdowns"

Within designated wilderness areas, there is minimal human intervention. "[Protected wilderness areas] were set up as places for humans to visit, but not linger," Morgan explained. Ten days after setting off, Claire and I were hiking through Glacier Peak Wilderness Area, known for its heavily forested streams, steep-sided valleys and rugged glacier-covered peaks. Fallen trees littered the path, often requiring us to carefully clamber over or under the debris. We passed a large "blowdown" fir tree that had been knocked down by a storm, cut and cleared by hand. Upon closer inspection, we noticed that someone had counted and marked its rings. Squinting, we counted roughly 700, meaning this tree was here more than 100 years before Columbus sailed to the Americas. As Morgan told me: "These [wilderness] areas thrust you back in time… to a time that connects us all to the raw nature of primordial life."

Staying wild

The PCT is maintained by the Pacific Crest Trail Association (PCTA) and a team of incredible volunteers. When I later asked Kage Jenkins, who works for the PCTA, about the role of designated wilderness areas, I was taken back to the 700-year-old downed tree. Kage explained, "Trail maintenance projects in wilderness areas mean no chainsaws or motorised tools; we rely on the crosscut saw. There's a simplicity and joy in spending the better part of a day at the foot of a stratovolcano cutting an enormous Douglas fir."

I then asked how the PCTA manages to maintain the trail while also keeping it wild. "The trail itself always finds a way to stay wild," Kage said.

Shifting landscapes

By July, the snow had just melted but there was already talk of fire among fellow hikers. We passed one young trekker going north to the Canadian border, who told us, "I hiked 2,600 miles last year but couldn't reach the border due to fire closing the trail. I'm back to hike the last 50 miles!" Wildfires are a very real threat in Washington. In July 2014 the Carlton Complex Wildfires burned 256,108 acres. This threat also provides opportunities for nature; some animals like the black-backed woodpecker and fire chaser beetle have evolved specifically to thrive in burn zones, while seeds from plants such as the snowbrush have shown that fire can actually stimulate germination. A warming climate means that the frequency and magnitude of Washington's wildfires is likely to increase.

In late July, we came across our first real burn zone. We hiked in silence through the dead trees, it was eerily quiet and somewhat disarming. The charred remains were a sobering reminder of how seemingly indomitable landscapes can be altered so quickly.

Ups and downs

Claire and I quickly found hiking through Washington both exhilarating and calming. Shortly after setting out, we came across the first bear droppings we would see in the middle of the path. Some nights, our campsite was swarmed by mosquitoes that had recently hatched following the melting snow. Other times, as the skies darkened and thunder rumbled, we rushed to find a flat camping site to wait out the incoming storm. This rollercoaster pattern continued, with hours of sunny, stunning hiking interrupted by extreme weather and energy-sapping lows. As Kimberly Myhren, a hiker we befriended on the PCT, said, "What makes [the PCT in Washington] difficult to hike is also what gives Washington its serene and rugged beauty."

These ever-shifting landscapes only added to the sense of wonder and adventure we felt along the trail: we weren't just passing through the environment but interacting and coexisting with it. "As many wilderness areas are large enough that there is no cellular service, these landscapes are places where one tends to disconnect from technology and be present in a different manner," Michael DeCramer, policy and planning manager at the Washington Trails Association, later explained "Visiting a wilderness area can afford an experience of remoteness that is difficult to find elsewhere."

"The mountain"

After a few weeks, we settled into a rhythm. While our GPS told us that we were covering an average of 20 miles and ascending more than 3,200ft each day, we soon found that we were measuring things differently. We focused less on time and distance and more on how we felt emotionally and physically. We were, as DeCramer later said, "present in a different manner".

One sunny day in mid July, "the mountain", as it's known to those in Seattle, came into view. Mt Rainier, the iconic 14,410ft active volcano and the most glaciated peak in the lower 48 states, appeared like a beacon. We had hiked 250 miles and knew we would enter the Mt Rainier Wilderness Area at mile 330, and having a reference on the skyline reinforced how quickly we were moving; each time we emerged from a dark forest or from a sheltered hillside, the mountain seemed to grow. Where possible, we would pitch our tents to catch a glimpse of the mountain before we fell asleep. The following morning, we would watch the first rays of sun reflect off its snowy peak as we sipped our steaming coffee.

The climb

The high-altitude terrain means that hiking the Washington section of the PCT shouldn't be taken lightly. It took us a full month to reach the Oregon border; by then we had ascended nearly 100,000ft – the equivalent of climbing Everest three times. With bags full of food, water, a tent, a sleeping bag and mat, clothing, a stove and gas and other gear, your fitness levels quickly improve. We had spent months training, yet still found ourselves exhausted most days and falling asleep by 20:00. After just 19 days, we had both lost a fair amount of weight and managing our weight and calorie intake became a battle we would fight for most of the trail.

Wilderness and civilisation

Whenever we needed to hike into nearby towns for supplies, the transition from wilderness to civilisation was abrupt and it felt strange to suddenly interact with locals after having not washed in days. Being able to fill up on much-needed food was great, but it came with hiking out of town with a heavy bag. Our meals were made of lightweight, high-caloric foods such as seeds, nuts, dried fruit, noodles, porridge, milk powder and the occasional freeze-dried meal as a treat. We stored our provisions in bear canisters that doubled as stools as we sat preparing dinner each evening. The canisters are designed to prevent bears and other creatures from accessing to your food supplies, and ensure there is no association between people and food.

We were awoken one morning by the sound of a pack of coyotes playing as the sun came up, their howls echoing through the forest. We also had five bear encounters in Washington, including a close interaction with a mother and two cubs who were more interested in their pursuit of berries than our presence. We met hikers who had seen mountain lions just metres from their tent. Deer would appear from nowhere, often while we were camping, curious and unafraid. On many afternoons, we passed marmots who whistled loudly at us to stay away.

Rustic lodging

In many places, long hikes end at a cabin with a hot shower. This is not the case on this section of the PCT, however. "Washington is home to some of the most remote areas on the entire PCT," explained Kage. "There are 40-mile sections of trail between the nearest two roads, further still to the nearest town." We carried our home with us, diligently pitching it every night at one of the numerous flat dirt spots established by previous hikers along the trail. Many nights we slept closer than we would have liked to dead but still standing trees – "widow-makers", as they're known by hikers, for their tendency to fall in the night.

While there were times I certainly missed a hot shower, many hikers prefer this rustic approach. As DeCramer said, "Many people report that wilderness areas provide an opportunity to experience challenge and self-reliance." Kage agreed, adding, "The PCT helps ensure each hiker can enjoy their own wilderness experience: appreciating a natural landscape and ecosystem, finding isolation or connection to and interdependence of wild places."

"What about the bears?"

After a month of hiking through Washington, I thought back to Claire's first question as we set out: "But what about the bears?" As I began writing this, a PCTA update flashed up on my phone: grizzly bears will soon be reintroduced into Washington's wilderness areas. "There are only six ecosystems in the USA outside of Alaska considered wild enough for grizzly bears, and this is one of them," said Morgan, who has been instrumental in advocating for their reintroduction "They will feel right at home deep in the heart of the endless forests and giant peaks that their ancestors once roamed."

One hundred years since the Gila wilderness area came into being, this feels fitting. For PCT hikers and for Washington, it's one more reason to cherish this great wilderness.

[branches-in-a-flood]

27-33? 😁 ✨

27. any nicknames?

Nope, Flood is my legal name. /j

Uh, actually not very many apart from like, internet usernames. There are two main riffs on my government name that people have used, but no one does anymore. 

28. do you collect anything?

Yes! I collect skulls! And also pelts, fossils, crystals, and apparently plushies (bison, wolves, and bats, which have all been weirdly accidental.)

The skull collection is currently somewhere upward of 20, but not everything is displayed because I suck at decorating, and have a somewhat chaotic home. 

Pelts, I have numerous cowhides and reindeer as floor coverings, goat skins and a Thompson's gazelle as table cloths, a truly innumerable collection of rabbit hides for decor, crafting, and lining collars, as well as a coyote, fox, and lynx for Renn Faire/cosplay use. This reminds me I have a raw coyote hide in the freezer I've been meaning to throw out for at least a year. 

The fossils, crystals, and minerals are strewn about the house and also still in boxes. See the "I suck at decorating" explanation. 

EDIT: I forgot the dog collars too. The black dog has over 25 custom ones because I Have Problems.

29. what do you do when you’re sad?

How sad? Ranges from coloring to napping to self harm to drinking on my meds. 

30. what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

I'm not trying to be edgy or anything here but there's nothing that never fails. Such is the nature of depression and neurodivergence I suppose. I can typically count on the small cat climbing into my chest making me feel content, but there are overstimulation issues. Hiking or just generally being in the wilderness typically works wonders, but we saw how today went 🥲

31. are you messy or organised?

No one has ever accused me of being organized. 

32. how many tabs do you have open right now?

Three! 

33. any hobbies?

:heavy sigh: Yes? No? I've been battling the mental illness for a long time now and my hobbies have mostly died in that pursuit. I think the closest I actively do would be training and trialing the black dog. 

(I used to sketch and paint, rock climb, train horses, keep plants/container garden, and intermittently wrote short stories and poetry in earlier years)

[broomsick]

Praising Jörð

Around me your creation,

Beneath me your flesh.

My breath is your gift,

Your body is my home.

Your voice is the song of birds,

Your presence is music to the soul.

Great Mother Jörð whom I salute in adoration,

You are giver of life and ultimate destruction;

Protector of the wilderness, first creator,

Who provides breath and welcomes us in death.

Hear these words of praise,

Sent to the mother of the Goat King;

To the Earth under my feet, who has birthed and fed me

To your sacred children, spirits that roam the land

To the warmth of your soil in which my ancestors slumber.

I sing of your grace in whispered devotion

For your gifts are many, your arms generous

And you are mother to us all,

Rocking us each day at your bosom.

Time makes blindness easy,

Though ever present you are,

But every step I take

Forever marks your grounds.

[tfc2211]

Play ▶ Retro Obscuro No. 139 - Christmas

The Belmonts - Wintertime The Surf Boys - Stuck In The Chimney Francis Smith - Solar System Simon, Santa's Supersonic Son Santo And Johnny - Twistin' Bells Sylvia Reid - Christmas Rock And Roll Babs Gonzales - Teenage Santa Claus Gisele Mackenzie - Too Fat For The Chimney Jim Easter And The Artistic's - White Christmas The Copycats Featuring Kimo & Sabbe - The Abominable Snow-Man Ed McCurdy And The Boomers With Joe Cribari - Red Hair And Green Eyes The Debonaires - Crazy Santa Claus Gary Ramey With Floyd And The Little Soul Sisters - Moon-Y Min-I Men Visit Santa Claus (Part 1) Walter Stone "The Cry Baby" And The Tradewinds - Christmas Time Again Judy And The Duets - Christmas With The Beatles Mie Nakao - Jingle Bells The Cavaliers - Santa's Soul Gus Colletti - Santa Is A Superman Doye O'Dell - I'm Pickin' Fights For Christmas Johnny Preston - (I Want A) Rock And Roll Guitar Fred Bergin And His Music - Deck The Halls Janette Eden - You Turn Me On (And I Light Up) The Wilder Brothers - I Wanna Goat For Christmas Jack Ware - What Did Santa Claus Used To Be? The Martels - Rockin' Santa Claus The Lollipops - Mister Santa Idle Few - A Letter To Santa Yasunori Nakajima And The Latin Rhythm Kings - Winter Wonderland Bobby The Poet - White Christmas (3 O'Clock Weather Report) Judy Jamison - The Santa Claus Twist Gus De Wert Trio And Jeannie Jay - Space Age Santa Claus Jeri Kelly - Poor Ole' Santa Claus The Splendors - Winter Time The Teardrops - Hey Gingerbread Little Rita Faye - I Fell Out Of A Christmas Tree Jim Backus - Why Don't You Go Home For Christmas Jimmy Allen, Tommy Bartella - When Santa Comes Over The Brooklyn Bridge Donna And The Dees - I Know There's A Santa Claus The Pixies Three - Cold Cold Winter Bet E. Martin - Mrs. Santa Claus The Surfers - Here Comes Santa Claus In A Red Canoe The Sherwoods - Cold And Frosty Morning The Qualities & Sun Ra - It's Christmas Time

[skpct]

Day 158: White Pass. 350 miles from the Northern Terminus.

Gosh, it is nice to be home! I’m about to head back out on trail, so I’ll make this one kinda quick.

I had no trouble going from Cascade Locks to Trout Lake. There was a lot of uphill, which was an adjustment, but I’m feeling a lot better about it now. I got some excellent views of Mount Adams, not so much of Mount Saint Helens. Oh well.

Getting into the town of Trout Lake was easy, getting out proved to be much harder. A thunderstorm rolled through and hit a tree, which subsequently exploded into a 4500 acre inferno overnight. I got out before it got too bad, and only had to miss about 20 miles, so I still got to see the goat rocks wilderness. It was a little smoky, but that’s okay.

I know I say that I have 350 miles left, but I actually have a lot less than that to do. With the fires in Washington, significant sections of the trail are closed, so I’m going to have to skip up a fair bit. The border is still open, fortunately, but that could change at any time. I’m keeping my fingers crossed. Anyway, I expect to finish in 2 weeks or less.

I ran into something pretty cool in the goat rocks: the spot where the photo I’m using as my banner was taken! It’s not quite the same with all the smoke, but you can still see mount Adams in the background.

Okay! Peace out.