The sun lied and shone on our faces as we packed for the hike, teasing us with her warmth into thinking we’d get to hang out all day.

We were lost before we even got to the trailhead, navigating the pothole/lake-filled washboard roads, looking for wood cut signs amidst the shrubs to mark the way. When we reached the trail, we had to stop every 10 seconds to appreciate the magic.

The trail layered over treetrunks and under bushes. Often we couldn’t see the trail at all.

But then it would open up into a fairy meadow, towering trees above shielding the rain.
As always, my clothing allows me to blend naturally into the scenery.
Previous hikers laid ladders and ropes in the toughest spots. It felt like being in a game.

We climbed straight up into a cloud, laying deep fog and drama all around us.


The fog cleared a bit at the top, revealing mystic islands peeking out below.

Once again, there wasn’t so much a path as a hope for the best.

We came upon a new friend.

I was caught in the act of real tree stump appreciation

And we found the stairway to heaven (I always knew it’d be in the woods)