Jared and I spent all of yesterday afternoon exploring a section of Rock Canyon which we have never been in. I find it amazing, and cleansing (if that's the word I am searching for), that so many snow-shoe trips end up being the "best." Yesterday's was no exception. It's also interesting that the main trail, packed down and easy to traverse, is also the most laborious and exhausting part of the hike. Getting off the path, creating my own trail and sensing a new place is very invigorating. We must have climbed over two thousand feet... it sure is quiet, up where few people venture and non-human nature keeps to itself. I always fall deeply in love when time and my sense of place erode until I am left to whims of nature... struck by beauty in such a way that I forget all social constructs and find myself connected to everything I do not understand. That's when I find true freedom and am most able to express what it is to be me... I am fucking wild!