North Cascades National Park

It had snowed the night before, but we went hiking anyway. We walked up, from the forest towards the top of the mountains.

Soon, the silence grew thicker, and the path went from mud to slippery snow, and at last to powdered snow, untouched except for a pair of shoes before us. We followed the traces of this unknown hiker who preceded us, trusting that they would go the right way.

Up and up we went, the wind blowing in our faces, the weather changing every few minutes, until at last the footsteps before us stopped on the top of a mountain. We met Austin there. The path stopped with him, or maybe we had taken the wrong one, it didn’t really matter.

 

 

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