We crested a crumbling granite outcrop peppered with plumes of sage. The simple act of crossing from one side of the ridge to the next meant the difference between a sweat beaded brow and a sudden cold you could feel through every layer of clothing on your body.
Spent most of the day in sunny mixedwood stands, their canopies filtering lazily blowing snow. There were periods where I would be squinting through the sun in my eyes one second, then I’d turn and by the time I had lifted my saw to shoulder height and started running it, I could see my exertion in front of me; white clouds of breath in the air.
Camaraderie in the wildest nature where the threat of death is ever present, intermingled with feeling more alive than you have ever been in life.
Yeah I once got paid for that.