When my younger brother asked me if i wanted to hike in eight and a half miles to a secluded lake in the Sawtooths I refused, quickly. I mean, I did have a party to go to that weekend. Party got canceled, and I picked up an old Alice pack from a pawn shop. I clearly had no idea what I was getting myself into. As we parked the truck, I looked into the vast wilderness and quickly thought about setting up camp at the trail head. Yeah, so I had a sneaking moment of pussy creep through me, luckily it passed, and I strapped what felt like eighty pounds worth of oatmeal and vegetarian chili on my back. We set up the first camp about four miles in, around twelve thirty in the morning. That first night was some of the best sleep I had in years. I was able to quickly glance at the stars before I dozed off for the evening. Explaining what those stars looked like would be like trying to explain color to a blind man, they were some new kind of vivid. I was woken just before dawn, there were two chipmunks chasing each other around a tall pine tree, chattering and raising all kinds off hell, stopping every now and again to look at me, cursing me for shooting there cousin with a sightless twenty two all those years ago. I felt those stares, I knew what they were trying to communicate. We resumed our hike shortly there after, and the last mile or so was pure hell. I developed two of the biggest blisters I have ever seen, anywhere, on the back of my feet. The boys were kind enough to help a brother out and carried my pack out for the last thirteen twenty, or there abouts. Thanks fella's, I couldn't have done it without you. The lake was amazing. It was the first lake of any size that I had seen that didn't have any houses on it, and we were the only people camping there. There were many six to eight inch trout that hung out a few feet off shore, begging to be eaten. We spent a night there, using pebbles for poker chips, I lost five dollars. I wrote a rather extended letter to a friend of mine, one of those letters that is not meant to be delivered, or read. By anyone, ever. That night the stars were about as bright as they are in Los Angeles on a cloudy night, and a steady stream of ash fell on me until around two in the A.M. from a nearby forest fire. The next morning we ate breakfast, broke down camp, and hiked out. I hadn't felt a sense of accomplishment like I did that afternoon in quite a while. I also hadn't wanted to quit smoking in some time, but that day I did. Not really a tough guy when your lungs are on fire and every muscle aches and you fell like laying down and dieing, and the kids you are with are trotting up inclines like goats. Little punks.
