Darkness

Elevation gain: 500 feet
Distance: 2.2 miles
Time: 40 minutes

Pretty often, I leave work early on Friday afternoon, so I can get a walk in before I go home.  Yesterday about 4, I realized that if I left right away, I could probably get to the Martin Street trail head just in time to climb the first 500 feet, up to Fox Hollow Road, before it got dark.  My timing was only off by a little bit..

As I started up the trail, that special awareness kicked in.  It happens in a moment nowadays, as if repetition makes it easier; the cares of the day went to the background, and the event stream of the woods came to the front of my attention.  The light was fading fast as I started up, and I realized I would be in darkness on the way down.  And that became the magic of the day.

I never get tired of feeling "the burn."  There's a zone where the breath comes hard, but not too hard, and a kind of trance is reached.  For me, it's very pleasant, and the most rejuvenating thing I've ever known.  As I climbed, the colored leaves reflected the last of the sunlight around the valley, and the birds made day's end sounds.  The air was cold enough for a hat, and mist was just beginning to gather down by the creek.

By the time I started down, the sun was well down, and I could hear owls hooting across the little valley.  In the dark, the forest became deep and embracing.  The mist gathered and crept up the valley, onto the trail.  Finally, I could not see the trail anymore, and I stopped to turn on my little light.  Now I walked in a pool of dim white, just enough light to see where to put my foot next.  The dark was just beside and behind me, adding depth to the quiet.  As I came to the edge of the forest, the darkness gave way to a dim ambient light.  I turned off my little headlight and walked the last few steps to the car by the light of downtown Eugene, reflected off the low clouds.

Today, I'm resting.  Tomorrow I'm going climbing.