Buck Mountain

      I feel the encouragement of the wind as it pushes against my back, massaging the muscles against cramping from exhaustion of carrying the 60pound pack of necessities for our weekend on the mountain. Listening to the scattered melody of birds as the strength of the wind increases, tossing leaves and twigs while forcing the trees to wave in welcoming of my girlfriend April, our dog and I to the top of Buck Mountain. The perfect place for reflection, appreciation for the present, and planning for the future.

           A quick stop at Wyatt's general store well before sunrise this morning provided us breakfast, hiking rations and an enjoyable chat with Earl, long time resident and proprietor of Wyatt's. Earl shared the newest town gossip, the forecast, the best cup of coffee on this side of the range and of course a treat for any 4-legged friend accompanying a customer.

           “Y’all stay aware climbing ole Buck today buddy. With such warm temps this time of year those bears don’t always remember they should still be sleeping.” Earl said as he packed up an extra dog treat for Kili. “And the weatherman said depending on how the wind blows its likely to rain on one side or the other today. You know how slick that undergrowth can get.”

           With the lift of his hand Earl bid us goodbye as he moved on to greet the next customer. I scooped up our bags, headed out the door to secure our purchases and pointed the Jeep toward the trailhead. Upon parking I noted the day and time, trail we were preparing to hike, who was with me and our expected return time. All locals know to leave this type of information visible on the dash. Vacationers sign the Hiker’s Visitor Log at the trailhead with much the same information. Safety is a priority when spending time on the trails.

           Kili danced around the back seat of the Jeep as April layered on her jacket and small pack, and I made final preparations to our large pack, including a third check that the small, unmarked box was secured in the outer most pocket and with it, my emotions until we reached the summit of Buck Mountain. With my arm around April’s shoulders, a quick kiss to her temple and Kili stretching his lead as far as it would go, we began our trek with the dawning of the morn.

           A gentle breeze played with April’s hair and was cool enough to keep me from sweating as we hiked along the damp dirt trail. This winter has been quite mild in temp and precipitation. We’ve had more rainfall than snow this season. And if the clouds rolling in are any indication, more rain is on the way.

           “You doing okay, babe? Want to stop for a minute, rest the legs and get a drink?” I asked. April’s smile was enough to know her answer and perhaps a clue that I should have asked a few minutes earlier. “Sounds good to me.” she said as she was already taking off her pack, taking up the slack of Kili’s lead and reaching for her water bottle all at the same time. I set up Kili’s water bowl and he drank about as much as he spilled while dancing around the bowl. April and I sat on a nearby fallen tree while keeping hold of the dog’s leash. We rested long enough to eat a few handfuls of granola, share a piece of jerky with Kili before reloading the packs and preparing to make our way closer to the top of Buck Mountain.

           While hiking, April and I shared a pair of earbuds, listening to the same music while leaving one ear free to hear each other if need be. Mostly though, we soak in the sounds surrounding us. Kili’s puppy yaps as he hears a bird or rustling from the deadened forest floor. Watching April and Kili walk ahead of me, I allow the breeze to carry away the emotions I feel as each step brings us closer to the peak. I am ready and I am not to share the weight of the small, unmarked box packed securely away.            

           About 200 feet from the top of Buck Mountain we find a clearing 50 feet from the trail. A nice, level spot allowing room for our tent, chairs, and space to build a fire pit. “Let’s set up camp here and then make our way to the top to enjoy the sunset before the rain moves in on us.” I suggest.

           “Yes, let’s do that. I want to get some pictures too. I want to remember this day, with you.” April said while smiling sweetly and focusing on helping pitch the tent and securing it to the stakes. Kili was fast asleep in one of the chairs exhausted from the hours of walking uphill, which allowed us to work quickly and efficiently at setting up camp. As April moved to her pack to retrieve her camera, I moved to my own pack and grabbed the box, slipping it into the pocket of my jacket. I reached out for April’s hand, woke Kili from his name and we hiked the remaining 200 feet to the peak.

           Vibrant red and orange swaths of light were ushering out the day and welcoming the night as we reached the top clearing. April took pictures of the sunset and of Kili playing with leaves as they tumbled along. I soaked it all in. Remembering the past and why I wanted to hike here today with my present and future. With tears in my eyes, I removed the boxed from my jacket and turned to April.

“Thank you for taking this hike with me today. I could not have made this trek alone. Each step toward this clearing brought a memory of my dad.” I whispered, drying my face. “He always said not burry him in the ground, but to spread him in places we enjoyed together. So that every time I visit them, he would be there with me once more.”

           With the support of April’s hand on my shoulder, I emptied the small box of ashes as night settled across the sky and the wind sprinkled the ashes across the summit. Kili jumped and yipped until I picked him up and he licked the tears from my face. Tucking the pup under one arm and placing the other around April, we made our way back down to camp.

           After dinner was finished and everything was cleaned, we retired to the campfire for a cup of cocoa before bed. “I love you, April. Thank you for being by my side and encouraging me to be my best self. There isn’t any other person I need to live the remainder of my life to the fullest. Will you marry me?” I asked as I pulled a tiny ring box from my jean pocket.

           The reflection of the fire twinkled in the tears of her eyes as the wind again played with her hair. “Yes, Elijah. I will marry you!” As we stood there hugging and celebrating our engagement the wind swirled around us and the rain began to fall. Washing away the sadness of spreading my dad’s ashes and watering the love we April and I share.