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Lessons on Watching


On a Audubon yoga hike the other day, a woman told me to "just feel, but form no opinions. Feel the wind, feel your blisters, feel the sun, but let them be." A friend echoed the sentiment, and added that in doing so "we are mountains, and our emotions and things that happen to us are just clouds that pass by."

Slightly skeptical, I brought that lessons with me to Frazer, while I sat on a viewing pad and watched Kodiak brown bears eat and play and cool off. I watched them but tried not to form an opinion, so I could fully experience what I was seeing and feeling. I watched Broken Ear grab fish from under the weir, and Brangelina (a sow and two cubs) eat and terrorize a sub adult with an injured foot. I ate dinner in a tiny cabin with no running water with some of the coolest people I've ever met. I "cleaned off" in a banya above the river. I got to sleep outside in the Alaska night air in a tent surrounded by a bear fence. I got to pluck a scale off a salmon for testing at the weir. Sometimes it is appropriate to watch, but other times it is more appropriate to "do."

This past weekend, I tried to both "do" and "watch" while I backpacked to Center Mountain. I attempted to live in the moment during both the good parts and bad. The good moments included seeing the beautiful mountains, scenery, moments when I got into the rhythm of hiking, and moments when I gave my feet a rest. like while eating lunch or sliding down a snowy glacier in order to avoid hiking on rocky scree. The bad included all the aches and pains that come with backpacking, the scary moments when rock, ground, or snow gave way under my feet and I slide down the mountain, and the nearly 4 mile hike back down Kashaveroff in the dark after putting in 14 miles that day. Regardless, hiking with the mentality that not all that I experience lasts forever was eye-opening. It makes the pain of hiking more endurable and the moments of beauty more impactful.


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