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Show 30 blues all the way from shoes to the sky, the color of warmth fading on both sides as we walked up the trail. We spread out over the hike-Chris had too much energy and ran up the trail. Travis took it slow and gave himself time to stop for a few breathers. I walked up at a steady pace in the middle with Steve, and the others moved between. When the distance between the leaders and stragglers was wide enough, that middle was silent-a very different silence than the silence in my basement or in church, as if the dixy's silences had magnetized toward the mountain for i i twelve hours and then released after dark. After crossing the river on a makeshift bridge that was there all of my life but felt like it might sink away every time I crossed it, the trail narrowed. Twenty feet after the bridge the dirt trail transformed back into deep shale and people making the hike for the first time often went too fast or weren't careful and would twist an ankle. From the bridge on you could hear the sound of water on water, but even with the expectation, it was still stunning every time to see the trail unwind to reveal the mist of the waterfall mixing with the moonlight at the base. During the day there were some insects that looked like nails with wings buzzing around up there, as well as birds chirping. But at night there was only the sound of night and water to listen to. Any other noises you had to fill in yourself. Alan demanded that we leave the area better than we'd found it, which meant he spent the first few minutes picking up discarded soda cans and beer bottles and shaking his head while the rest of us gathered material for a fire. Alan |