Queens For A Day

Day 129: When I am out hiking, I set goals for myself, whether it's to reach the top of the next rise, make it to a specific destination point, or simply to check on the status of a plant. That's not to say I could file a detailed flight plan and indeed, I often don't know where I'm headed until my car finds its way to a parking area seemingly independently of any particular thought process on my part, and sometimes even then, I have no specific goal in mind until my feet begin striking the earth. I left home yesterday with nothing more than a desire to be Out for as many miles as chilly temperatures would allow, and I wound up at Pack Forest with visions of Snow Queens dancing in my head. That would take me three miles (one way), leaving plenty of time to be down before the sun dipped low in the sky. I wasn't even sure Synthyris reniformis would be in bloom in February, but checking on them was all the motivation I required. Enter now a handful of circumstances designed to throw a monkey wrench into the proverbial works. Less than three-quarters of a mile in, I knelt down to examine a lichen and found my first Snow Queens in an unexpected spot. Suddenly, my proposed work here was done. I'd got what I came for, so now what? I hadn't even reached the first junction where I'd could choose from a variety of new destinations. Then a second factor intruded into the plan: trail repair and a reroute. Now I was curious about what else might have been done further up toward Hugo Peak. At Hugo, I found a new side trail which begged to be explored. Once done there, more choices offered themselves: go back the way I'd come, walk down the main road to Kirkland Pass, there to go either down the 1000 Rd. to parking or take a side trip to see if the Snow Queens were in bloom where I knew they occurred. I might have rambled even longer but for the fact that I spoke at length with another hiker and then again with an old friend, so that when I arrived at the Snow Queens, the sun was already slanting sharply through the trees and taking on the gold hue of late afternoon. It was time to go home, and I beat-feeted it down, hands in mittens inside my pockets, happy that I'd achieved all my goals, even the hastily developed ones. That's how I hike. I go until I'm "halfway," and then return. That's my Plan.