I'm Going Back

There's a vista far above Enchanted Valley (also known as “The Valley of 10,000 Waterfalls”). It is one of the more difficult (to put it mildly) to reach.

But after ascending those 2,000 feet of elevation, do you know what you can see from there?

Everything.

You can see far below where you've come from, with the fog still lingering over the trail through the valley.

You can also see stretching out far beyond you the baby blue haze hovering over the Pacific Ocean.

And as you look at the beauty surrounding you as you catch your breath, you begin to understand why the weathered signpost near where you pitched your tent simply says, "Home, Sweet Home."

In a few days from now I’m going back to where my dad and I a half-century ago walked that path.

This time however I will look up from the Enchanted Valley floor toward “Home, Sweet Home.” At age 74 now, that is a climb I suppose that is a bit beyond me.

My dad and I reached “Home, Sweet Home” through much toil and trouble, the trail being rocky and steep.

And though this time I won’t stand where my dad and I did at the very top of that pass, I will pass through the valley that is so much like life – enchanting, familiar, a blessing to travel, comforting to return to where precious memories were made.

I had the privilege too (to put it mildly) of walking my wife home as well, following a half-century of marriage, her trail ending 16 months ago, lost to cancer.

Upon leaving Enchanted Valley, I will have completed 100 miles of backpacking this summer through Washington’s wild, wonderful, whimsical wilderness - the beautiful and magical Olympics and Cascades.

And with every mile of every trail - sometimes exhausted at so steep the climb; often awestruck as I top a ridge to see across the valleys from which I’d come an entire range of majestic snowcapped peaks; as I have drifted off to sleep below a brilliant star-studded night sky - my thoughts have been of her, and the beauty she brought to my life.