no. 4

I did it.  I ventured, I veered, I hiked, I carried my own water through the wilderness to the Washington coast.  Cross number four off the list.  I saw the Washington coast and man was beautiful.  

Conversely, it was unsettling, and worth it in a backwards way.  I mean, it was incredible seeing something as monumentally gorgeous as the ever expanding horizon, the undulation of the ocean over the course of a day, and comprehending the vastness of the world I inhabit.  However, what really struck me is the realization that, really, backpacking just isn't for me.  I was hoping the trip would invigorate the dormant Montanan in me, but it definitely did not.  I like nature accessible in small doses on a monthly basis, in a familiar I know where my car is parked and that getting to it is easier than hiking three miles on slippery boardwalk way.  I like it in the there is no wild life near here that could/would stalk/eat me.  I like my nature to put me at ease instead of send me into an anxious fit.  

I don't blame the trip, really.  It was gorgeous and I did have an awesome time conversing, searching for petroglyphs and firewood, and cooking on the hot burning coals of the fire.  What I didn't love was getting up close and personal with a black bear, fearing that I would be chomped up by his enormous teeth, and being unable to let the encounter go and feeling unsettled for the remainder of the day/weekend.  Worse though, was feeling like I wasn't alone when I was alone.  You know the feeling, like twenty feet away someone lurking in the darkness has their eye on you, watching your every move.  My hair was constantly standing on end.  

My conclusion is this--I like nature, the easily accessible by car and foot, preferably without bears kind.  And I like it with a book and a picnic basket.  And I like it best when it can be reflected upon from the comfort of my very own bed immediately following.  Camper I am not, but appreciative of nature's beauty I very much am.