I don't want to bore people with two travel-log/adventure blogs in a row, but this was so cool I just wanted to share it.
The saying "The Higher You Get, the Higher You Get" just sounds cool, and it can mean any number of things, depending on what it means to you as a person. I first came across this saying painted across the roof of this cabin, located high up in the mountains of Idaho. Actually, VERY high up. You can't drive to it. It's strictly a hike in/hike out. Though I saw some chick on an electric, pedal assist mountain bike cranking up to it, but I personally wouldn't even want to ride one of those up there. For me it was just an uphill slog, roughly four miles and nearly 2500 feet of vertical elevation gain over that distance. Switchback after switchback after endless switchback, knees and legs aching. Up and up through the lodge pole pines and aspens, topping out on an exposed rocky ridge top, then more switchbacks. I have heard of people running, jogging the whole route, but even when I was in my peak physical shape in my early/mid 20s, when I used to be a distance runner, I couldn't imagine doing that. That's world class athlete stuff right there. Walking it was strenuous enough. It's 2500 feet of vertical gain! Plus, you top out at a headache-inducing 9500 feet above sea level, making you feel like you are in the Himalayas.
But once you're there....it LOOKS like the Himalayas. The cabin sits in a small meadow basin, surrounded by 12,000 foot peaks all around you, everywhere you look. It is just epically intense. From what I can tell, the cabin is open to the public for overnight hikers on a first come, first serve basis, maybe there's a way to reserve it with the Forest Service but I'm not sure about that. I stopped in, signed the guest book, hung out for a while taking in the alpine views and scenery before heading back down the mountain.
The fall colors were starting to come out and the aspens were bright yellow. And the weather was perfect- Well no, actually I take it back; it wasn't. There were some intermittent showers on the way up, and coming back down. Every so often, the sun would come out for a while though, and reveal the expansive views in all their glory, at times bathing the craggy canyons and distant peaks in a misty haze, other times they shone clear and bright. A few disconcerting rumbles of thunder on the way back down had me quicken my pace until I was safely further down under the wooded canopy, where the first set of switchbacks wind up and down the canyon side. The rain actually helped keep me cool; this would have probably been much tougher in the heat of mid-summer.
I reflect on the saying painted on the roof of the cabin. It can mean a number of things. The higher you get, you do get sort of a runner's high I guess. It gives you an ambition, to climb higher for more rewards and a feeling of accomplishment. (Though it was an intense workout, I actually felt like the hike I did three weeks ago was harder.) But more than that, you get high on the views, the intensity and the awesome power of nature and the connection to the divine.