through the sunset

Bailey Canyon. At the foothills there's a monastery, and the trail itself is something like a hundred or more switchbacks all the way up the mountain(s). I didn't think I'd be able to make it after 4.5 hours of sleep, but after the first ten switchbacks, huffing and puffing and leaning over to catch my breath it became strangely easier. At one point the trail forked and I ask Andy, which one do we take (eyeing the easier looking trail on the left). Andy gestures to the very steep trail on the right and replies, that one! I cursed while hitching my backpack up off my sweaty shoulders as Andy laughed saying I honestly didn't think you'd be able to make it this far. We got to a shady little cove and while listening to the trees, argued about whether a creeping green thing was a lichen or not, and started making our way back down as the sun began to set. Everything was bathed in gorgeous golden light and I couldn't help but stop at every other switchback to shoot a drop of sap, a shrub or spray of berries. After a tiring morning and week, an afternoon of hiking in the hills really helped restore me to a calmer state.