Mt. Shasta sat patiently, its peak piercing a cloud bank. It was not enough to simply dwarf all of its surroundings. Someday it would vehemently blanket all the land in a torrent of ash and mud, possibly lava. For today it seemed content to sit and let our eyes feast on its massive east face. The view reminded me of pictures I had seen of a larger mountain far to the north. "I wonder what Rainier looks like when you get this close?" My question silenced us both. No sooner than it passed my lips did we both realize that we weren't going to be finding out. At least not this round. The only views of Rainier we have a shot at on this trip will be printed on aluminum cans.
I have had three minute flashes of the intensity of emotion that would overcome me at the Canadian border. Today I had the most compelling, and fourth, such incident. It was very different than the previous one in that instead I envisioned Oregon. Great heaps of joy secretly came to me. I may not miss the upheaval after all. We have walked a leisurely twenty miles today yet I feel destroyed. Another indicator that Dylan made the right decision for us both yesterday. Hot baths and ice cream certainly won't be begrudged.