Mountains or City? The first day of class is always the same. We'd sit in the fading summer air and answer the questionnaire about yourself. City, I'd always say. Growing up in Tahoe, anywhere but the mountains sounded so enticing, so exciting. I'd wonder what it would feel like to live in an apartment. Above a bakery. With live music and chatter drifting through the floorboards. Sounds delightful. I bet I could even ride my bike to a CAKE show.
Give me the questionnaire nowadays and I'll circle mountains five times. I miss the solace of the sunsets over the trees. I long for the quiet woods and single lane roads. Distractions are few and the pace is slower. I'd rather study my skis than billboards and trade traffic for traversing the powder.
Stopping in Mount Hood for a weekend was everything I didn't know I needed. A reminder that the mountains are home which I too often forget. The whole trip aboard the Passport Express was planned in secrecy, a preservation of surprises for us all. I had no idea we'd be romping around the woods and immersing ourselves in lakes that day.