Common mistake when you abruptly wake up with a massive gust of wind blowing away your rain fly. After you fetch it you seem to be wide-awake and find yourself gazing up at the billions of stars contained in the Milky Way. When your neck stars hurting from staring up, you realize you should probably get some sleep since you will be backpacking out several miles in the morning. After you crawl back in the tent and put your toasted red sunburnt neck back on your make-shift-pillow, a rolled up hoodie, you notice that sleep is not that appealing at all and you would much rather have an adventure by backpacking out com
pletely in the dark with only headlamps; a genius way to experience the great outdoors.
Oatmeal never tasted so great in the black of night, not having a clue of what time it is. Once you pack up camp and reason with your buddy what time it could be, you hit the trail. After several miles of hiking back up through the narrow canyon walls of Devils Canyon you can see a faint light along the eastern horizon. Excited because that has to be the sunrise.
Witnessing a sunrise is a magical moment that happens all to infrequent, yet it is a great way to start any day, anywhere. Period. As you continue along the trail you bend around a corner exposing this seemingly welcoming sunrise, to your surprise the faint light on the horizon was really just a sliver of the Moon. I wish I had packed my tripod along so I could of taken a long enough exposure to capture this gorgeous eerie orange moon with such a distinct outline of the Dark Side of the Moon. We continued hiking for another hour or two while singing some Pink Floyd and arrived to Cora (my trusty Corolla) to find out that it was only 5:38 a.m.
Devils Canyon
Another efficacious adventure that helped me appreciate and love the beautiful outdoors even more.
PS: I was trying to upload some panoramic pics, but they must all be too large or something... Next post, hopefully.
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