Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Apostle Islands, Day 1

July 20th
12:52 P.M.
We left at 20 to 8 this morning. We drove for over two hours before our 1st stop, Bonduel. Munchies: $4.49. I fell asleep and woke up about 9:55; I was out for an hour at most. Later on we stopped in Minocqua--twice. Once at a bread shop--which I didn't even take off my seatbelt and get out, let alone enter the store--and then at McDonald's. I ordered Chicken Strips and fries equaling $4.74. Expensive? I think so!
While we had stopped, I called my brother, Brian, for help on resizing my pictures. I set it on M1, superfine texture. Now I have room for nearly 500 pictures at a pretty good quality and size. A good amount unless I decide to take video.
We're about 2/3 of the way there now--maybe farther. It should be a couple more hours. Write again, then.

2 P.M.
We stopped for gas at a Mobil gas station. I went inside to go to the bathroom and boy, they had a lot of cool stuff: gems, food, cigarettes, gems, necklaces, pendants, gems, and shoes, oddly enough. Now we're driving through Ashland--lots of construction going on here.

Construction in Ashland.

I just saw a chipmunk go galloping by--must've been checking out our food that's cooking. I killed a massive spider in my tent that looked ready to spawn thousands of replicas. Glad I squished it when I did. I hate spiders!
We arrived at our Campsite on Siskiwit Lake Road, and then Siskiwit Shores. We met up with Shawn, Jess, who's 5 months pregnant, and Mark--our guides. We were appointed tents and tent-mates before beginning our wet-exits and kayaking lessons.
After many screw-ups and running back and forth several times, I was finally ready to go in the kayak and do an underwater exit. Albeit in an excessively tight life-vest (I was the last one ready)--which had to be switched for bigger size--and in an awkward spray skirt.

Spray skirts are on the left, life vests on the right.

I completed two wet-exits without difficulty and a nose full of of muddy water--TWICE! Ugh.
Drying was a pain--again I had to elicit the help of others to get my shirt and shoes which were completely across the campsite. I must've left my brain at home.
The food got started--a promised Cajun dinner which turned out to be spaghetti! Un problemo? Si!
Soon we're going to make smore's and hot cocoa. Now? I'm going to go and lay in the hammock.

Hammock, sweet hammock!!!

Apostle Islands, Day 2

July 21st
Early morning
I woke up to a few voices chattering and had decided to sleep a little more since barely anyone was up. I awoke a little later to a racket of voices and quickly got dressed. At first I thought I was the last one up--how embarrassing!--but realized two boys, Mike J. and Joe, were sleeping still. I didn't feel so bad, then. I had blueberry pancakes for breakfast then washed and dried dishes. Time to go.

11:04 A.M.
After breakfast we changed into our water gear and did some dry land lessons. If you hold your double-sided paddle in a straight vertical line, it means "raft up"; if you hold it vertical, but wave it from side to side, that means "help" because someone flipped over and is in trouble; and last but not least, if you hold your paddle horizontal, it means "stop".
Then we went into the water and did some more lessons. Most were the basics: How to turn around; how to paddle forward and how to back-paddle; and something called "scuttle" in which we put the flat-side of the paddle, perpendicular to our arms,
in the water, one shaft-clutching fist against our forehead. Then we had to pull the paddle toward us, and about a foot away from the kayak, twist the paddle and smoothly slide it out of the water. This would be done to shorten the distance between kayaks so that we could "raft" up.
I shared a double kayak--which turned out to be annoying at best, and maddening at worst. If I'm ever in a double again, I'm going in the rear seat. For one, I know I'd be better at steering; two, the more weight at the stern, the better--my partner must've weighed 100 lbs, at the most; and three, I'm sick of being told what to do. To top it all off, I flipped the kayak over and got Kathy and I soaked--I mean completely soaked--and I had to put up with her complaining.
Just perfect! I didn't mind at all getting soaked, but she obviously did. It's just a little bit of water. Chill!
I'm not one of those people who has a BIG problem with authority; it's not that I was told what to do, but how I was told. She acted like she knew everything, and people that act like her drive me...completely...insane! It took me at least ten minutes to dry off and wipe up the mess I made in the tent.
Time for lunch. After lunch we'll have to pack our things so they'll fit in the kayaks, as well as prepare the tents for rain.
Today's choice:

Peanut butter with strawberry or grape jelly,
you could sprinkle dried and sweetened fruit on
wrapping in a tortilla. Or you could have hard salami
with cheddar and swiss cheese, also wrapped in a tortilla.

This is Hummus--some kind of
paste made up of chickpeas, olive oil,
lemon juice, salt and garlic.

1:19 P.M.
Finished packing and we're on our way to Meyer's Beach. We stopped in Cornucopia. "Wisconsin's Northernmost Post Office." I went inside Ehler's Store to buy lip balm with sunscreen in it--reluctantly and only because I was told my lips would be toast by tonight. What a waste of $3.83! Along with the lip balm, I bought a postcard that said, "Welcome to Cornucopia!" and had three woman in 50's swimsuits sitting on top of the sign. There was also a lot of great apparel there; I had to take pictures!

Need I put a caption?

Yes, flaunt the town's abundance of people.
Your city is an intersection!!

Now, that's one hat I would love to have!
I'm always Up Shit's Creek.

No wonder they're still in business!

Time to kayak.

Again, need I put a caption?

Wait a minute. Let's take a closer look at that.

Hmm... Yeah... I feel a lot better
camping in the woods now!

5:43 P.M.
After misplacing and forgetting several items--too many items, one which would later include a $300 jacket that was donated to the group--and warily eyeing some nasty thunderheads, we set off for the sea caves, a 6-mile journey (there and back, that is).
Shawn, one of our guides was with me in the two-seater--a much better experience than with Kathy. I tell you, I kept my eyes on those clouds! My seat was very uncomfortable to say the least but the view was amazing! The caves were mind-blowing. We--Shawn and I, that is--
went through a cave, which, actually, was more like an arch, that was so small we had to lean back against the kayak. The arch was so narrow that our wide-sided kayak was scratched slightly by the rough sandstone that made up the cliff-ways, caves, and arches.
Another cave was so massive and long that we could see where the two surface points connected; we nearly could go all the way! Imagine an M, but horizontally, with you entering the V part. All the way in, you could look up and see trees and roots hanging down. Amazing!
In yet another massive cave (arch), we saw baby birds in the crevices, screeching as soon as the Mama bird came in sight, bringing food with her.
Meanwhile, Shawn is singing:

She thinks my kayak's sexy
It really turns her on
She's always starin' at me
When I paddle in a thong!

Really cracked the group up. You should've heard him singing it. It was great!
Anyways, by the time we headed back, the 3 anvil heads had amassed to form one 20-mile long storm which looked like it was heading in our direction, sideways-like. By now the waves were getting pretty big, and with no trouble at all, we were surfing them! A thick fog was rolling in, threatening to swallow our destination. But... we made it in just the nick of time. Quite an accomplishment, I must say.
The blistex was for nothing; I didn't even use it! $4 down the drain. Again, I forgot a lot of things. A $300 spray skirt jacket and my wet shoes on the ground while loading up, my lip balm, hat, Nalgene water bottles, and munchies in the car. I actually had to borrow one of Shawn's water bottles. How embarrassing! I felt completely incompetent by the end of that trip.

We got back and filed out of the cars; I put away what I didn't need for the hike to the "Lost Falls" which turned out to be one small waterfall from a nearby creek. Hardly worth the 4-mile hike, as well as the price of a new hat! You might've guessed it--I lost it. That's the last time I'll ever tie something to my camera strap. Stupid, yet not unusual for me, this trip, it seems. I would've gone back to look for it, had I felt that I had dropped it in the last 100 yards or so. I doubted it; it was probably lying on the ground, halfway to the "Lost Falls". Hah! Lost for a reason!!! But, that's just my opinion. When photographed though, I must admit, it did make a pretty picture.

The Sun breaking through the trees
on the way to the "Lost Falls."

A side view of the waterfall.

A frontal view. The best
view, in my opinion.

Back at camp, my back and left foot hurt like hell. Every time I step, pain shoots through my foot, past my ankle, and up my calf. The back pain, I get; the foot pain, not so much. It feels as thought I dropped a cinder block on it and fractured it. I dread kayaking tomorrow.
We had a "Cajun" dinner which was splashed across a clothed table; it consisted of boiled baby potatoes, baby onions, shrimp, gross red sausage, and
garlic--which I regrettably ate. Oh, and chunks of corn on the cob. Not the best meal yet, and certainly what I wouldn't call a Cajun dinner. It wasn't spiced in ANY way. Barely ate any of it.

There it is. Our "Cajun" Dinner.

I'm in a bad mood, as you can tell. It may be the pain, dinner, or my imbalance--probably a mixture of them all. It could also be that out of all the money I've spent, I could've used for bills. Since I'm not having the time of my life, it seems I've wasted $250-$300, if not more! Makes me feel like shit, but, oh, well. That would make anyone pissed off. I'm off to an unpleasant sleep!
Write more tomorrow.

Apostle Islands, Day 4

July 23rd
6:30 A.M.
Mark just died a dramatic death--choking on sausage. I wonder if I'll get the signal. Loons just floated by on the lake. This morning I woke up due to a bright light in my face; I looked outside to see the sun half out of the lake. I had to take a picture.

Sunrise at 5:30 A.M.

Hah, Mark just stated how hard it's going to be to choose a person to be the "Garbage Barge" since everybody has helped out during the trip.

7:20 A.M.
Joe and then Bruce died a dramatic death. Joe fell off a log into the water and "drowned", while Bruce tripped and "broke" his neck.
A few minutes later...
Mike J. just died his horrible death--death from excessive diarrhea. He ran out of the out house with sand and water covering the back of his jeans, and collapsed on the ground. The best death yet!

There he is. Too bad I didn't
get a picture of him before
Mark wiped the sand off.
Rest in peace!

Few more minutes later...
Jessica died a yoga death. She was on her hands and the tips of her toes, flipped over and died.
We're getting ready to go look at the sea caves (4-mile round paddle) and this time I'm bringing my camera. Afterwards, we're coming back for lunch, and then... then maybe a 6-mile round journey to York Island.

Well, the 1st half of the trip went well; I found several milky quartz and white sand glass before we left. The caves and the view was amazing! One was so small that I had to lean back as far as I could go, and still I had to push against the sandstone to push the kayak deeper into the water and my nose still got scraped!
Afterwards, we tossed rubber chickens and sponges around--which was fun. But, on our way back, before we went through the caves, my glasses broke. They can't be fixed; I need to buy new ones. They need a new frame and cannot be taped. My good mood is now over. I'm not going to York Island. What's the point when you can't see anything in detail? I'm not going to lessen the experience here by glaring and staring at something I can't see clearly. I'll just stay here and relax--I need it. Oh, by the way, Martha--Mike's wife--died by choking. On what? I don't know.

1:30 P.M.
I just got back from walking the beach after lunch which--for me--consisted of dried and sweetened fruit. After my sparse lunch, I went down on the beach and sang the "girls'" song with Heidi, Jess, Martha, Brooke, Kathy, and Jessica. When we were done with that, I walked the beach--actually in the water, across the sand dunes--looking for rocks, minerals/crystals, and sand glass. I found some beautiful milky quartz minerals with either red or blue cracks or streaks in them. They were beautiful. Did I say that already?
Oh, I also found some granite as well--they had really cool facets on them!
When I came back, Heidi and Jessica were doing yoga. Heidi taught me a few positions and stretches that really helped my lower back. Later I came up to hear Mark telling stories of past "students".
They're heading out on their kayaks, now; just pushing offshore as I'm writing this. Finally on their way to York Island Bay. I wish I felt up to it--emotionally and physically. But I'm sure I couldn't make the trip; the waves and wind were against them.
Quick note: When I was listening to Mark, a bald eagle flew overhead. I could see only it's shadow, but several other people exclaimed it to be so. This makes me wonder...
I haven't written my song yet. Did I mention that earlier? I don't remember. Anyways, each of us has to write a song about the Apostle Islands and kayaking. It should be fun and done by the time they get back, but it probably won't be.
Quick note: Last night I saw at least six deer, but I didn't see any come into the camp later that night. I did see, however, a beautiful sunrise--one I'll never forget, that's for sure.

Dinner tonight is Mexican night. Yeah, I know; Mexican was last night as well.
I heard Shawn died a great death on York Island. He went to wash his hands in the water, stumbled and fell. With his face and arms flailing in the water, he drowned. Would've been cool to see, but I'm glad I didn't go; I heard the journey was rough and exhausting--I would have had no energy left for tomorrow. They were gone for nearly 5 hours.
While they were gone, Martha and Jess blew up a pirate doll and put it behind the toilet in the outhouse.
I started the fire just as everyone got back from the trip to York Island. Sadly, my hard work turned out to be a pitiful fire, even thought there was plenty of wood, it went out--burned through--rather quickly. I thought I had it going pretty good before I went to take pictures of Mark and Shawn barrel-rolling their kayaks. Mark tried to attempt a barrel-roll with Mike J. laying over kayak's bow--he didn't quite make a complete roll, but almost! Later on, Shawn and Mark were trying to teach Joe attempt a roll as well. I went back then to check on my fire and lo and behold! It was a smoky pile of ash with a few embers. What the hell... I thought.

The attempt.
See the black shirt and arm
hanging on the side? That's Mike.

The result!

Almost there!

Almost--but not quite.

Shawn's second barrel-roll.
This time it was successful.

Shawn and Mark teaching
Joe how to barrel-roll.

I just went to the hammock to sit in a mildly quiet area so I could focus on writing. When I sat, the hammock popped me up in the air, flipped under my feet and I slammed into the ground flat on my back. I laid there, eyes closed for a moment. There was a brief silence, then shouts of, "Sara?" "Hey, you all right?" "What happened?
What happened? I missed it!?"
Before I had even finished writing
my death, Mike S. twisted and fell to the ground, his chest bulging then decompressing, before suddenly, a rubber chicken flew from under his shirt, and apparently out his chest. A great impersonation of the move Alien. The best death yet!
Again, while we were eating another bald eagle flew overhead. I guess there are dragonflies all over the lake shore; I wouldn't know, I can't see.
Mark locked Jared in the outhouse. Heidi ran to his aid calling, "Honey!" It was so cute. She let him out, and in turn he almost locked
her in until she told him he'd be "sleeping by the fire tonight" if he did. Someone by the campfire shouted, "If you lock her in and leave her there, you won't have to sleep by the fire!" Cracks me up!

I'm in my tent, ready for sleep. It was fun to hear all the songs that everyone wrote. I really liked Heidi and Jared's song, as well as Bruce and Kerry's song, but needless to say, I liked Shawn's the most.
Waves are crashing violently against the shoreline. The guides say we have to leave very early because a storm is coming in later about noon-ish.
Quick note: I took a picture of a squirrel running around by the trash bag tonight. It was a pretty small little bugger, it's tail twitching sporadically.

I'm going to try to get another sunrise on my camera, but Mother Earth may choose to block my attempt with clouds--and the coming thunderstorm.
I still hear people yakking around the campfire. Shut up! I need my sleep! I'm actually falling asleep as I write this, so goodnight, and see you tomorrow.

P.S.: Sunrise the next morning at 6 A.M. My last sunrise over Lake Superior.

Clouds moved in quickly
after the first two pictures.

Apostle Islands: My Song

My Song:

I kissed a boy and I liked it
Too bad he stole my kayak
I had to make a deal, I can't deny it
With 'Ol Petey the Pirate

Now I'm paddlin' to Sand Island Bay
Laughing so hard I can barely stay
On course, buy how can I not
When I think of where Jack was dropped

I think about Jack stealing my kayak, all liquored up
I'm travelin' havin' a good time and
He got what he deserved, the wanker
Oh, 'Ol Petey left him not too far off Eagle Island

(Sung to the tune of "I Kissed A Girl
and I Liked It" by Katy Perry)

Apostle Islands, Day 5

July 24th
1:24 P.M.

Well, we're on the rode again (reminds me of the song!), on our way home. We just stopped at McDonald's, a place I rarely go to, in Ashland. $5.11 spent. I woke up this morning about 6, maybe even earlier because all of our tents and bags (dry and otherwise) were packed and ready to go by 7:20. All we had to do was pack the kayaks, clean up the campsite--look for trash that might have been left behind--and then push off.
I took a picture of Petey the Pirate--named after my song! How cool is that?--that Jess and Martha blew up and put behind the toilet in the outhouse. What a great idea!

'Ol Petey the Pirate

By 8:11 we had the kayaks packed and 'Ol Petey strapped behind Shawn's seat. It was so hilarious, having a 3rd passenger on board. I wish I could've gotten a picture of us paddling with him standing on the stern.
It took just over an hour to get back to Sand Island Bay--we almost beat the record time of 57 minutes! We were steadily moving at 3.5 to 4 mph. Or so said Shawn's GPS instrument. The result of our amazing time was due to the fact that throughout our whole passage, there weren't any waves at all, just slight ripples. The calmest Lake Superior had ever been, according to our guides. By the way, we had left our campsite by 8:20.
When we got back to Sand Island Bay, aka Little Sand Bay, we unloaded the boats before completely washing them down--a big job. When we had everything up by the cars, I went through my dry bag and organized my clothing. I wanted to take a shower, but they wanted $2 in quarters, and I only had one--too expensive anyways; so, instead, I went and changed out of my wet suit, which, surprisingly, didn't stink too bad. I'm glad Mum packed the handy wipes--they were great for freshening up before putting my clothes on. As soon as I get home, though, I'm taking a shower and washing/shampooing all that sand from my scalp!
Afterwards, when we were all together, I asked everybody for their full names and e-mail addresses so I could send them the pictures of us on the bridge, then I requested another picture of everyone in front of the kayaks so everyone would be in that picture. I had taken a picture while most of the group was hiking to a waterfall, but we were missing three people then.
Before we departed, everyone sat down in front of the map of the Apostle Islands and tossed around a imaginary remote; each of us had to tell our favorite moment of the trip. I had three:
1. Watching the Moon rise orange and huge, as well as staring at the Milky Way, constellations such as the Big Dipper and Cassiopeia, and orbiting satellites.
2. Watching the Sun come up the next morning. I'll miss them. We should be home in 5 or 6 hours, now.
3. Towing Petey the Pirate

A quick picture of where we shoved
off, and kayaked to Sand Island.

6:05 P.M.
We're just exiting the Kewaunee exit in Green Bay, heading for I-43. So, I've got another 2 hours of driving ahead of me. We stopped at a Shell gas station by Shawano to fill up the tank. I got out of the car and almost collapsed; my knees weren't strong enough to hold me, they buckled. My legs felt weak as well. Maybe I just sat in the same position for too long--I don't know. I digress.
I went inside to buy a drink and go to the bathroom. When I did, the cashier instantly gave me bad vibes; man, was she in a mood. I bought a Raspberry Ice Tea, $1.47. I pulled out my bills and clutched a $1 in my hand. I put the rest away and hunted for change in my other pocket. I pulled out 2 quarters and 2 pennies, hoping to get a nickel back. I gave her the change; she looked at me with the bitchiest and most disdainful expression ever. She jerked her shoulders, or upper torso left and right and shook her open fist in my face in annoyance.
"What?" I asked, affronted.
"This is what you gave me," she sneered and shook her hand less than six inches from my nose. I saw only the change in her hand and realized I still clutched the dollar in my other hand. A glance confirmed my suspicions.
"Oh!" I said. "Sorry. Here!" I held out the dollar.
She snatched the bill from my hand, a condescending smirk on her face. What a bitch! At least I got the last laugh. She accidentally gave me .15 cents, instead of .05 cents. Idiot! I know, not much, but still, Instant Karma's a bitch--one I love!
The rest of the trip went smoothly and we arrived back about 6:50. It took me another hour to get home, and at last, I was able to rest. That's an end to this journey, and it's journal.

Apostle Islands: Death List

Death Toll:
Mark: choked on sausage
Joe: fell off log and drowned
Bruce: tripped and broke his neck
Mike J.: excessive diarrhea
Jessica: yoga exercise
Martha: choked on unknown item
Shawn: drowned; he stumbled and fell, face-first into the bay, arms and head flailing in the murky water
Sara (me): flipped out of hammock and landed on back
Mike S.: Alien death; chicken flew from chest
Kathy: bitten by bug
Jared: attacked by bees
Brooke: fell/slipped from cliff
Jess: strangled by clothes-wire
Kerry: died in his sleep

The Possessed:

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Freak Thunderstorm

We had some kind of freak, massive thunderstorm today. I was mowing the lawn earlier, and planned on finishing what little there was left when suddenly a reverberating CRACK shook the house and the sky opened up. Confused, I looked down at the WeatherBug radar I had just opened. My county was completely void of any blue, or green (or more extreme colored) blobs indicating rain--or in my case, a downpour!
So, what did I do? Well, after putting the lawn mower away--and getting soaked in my "rain-proof" gear in less than ten seconds!--I ran inside and grabbed my camera, then ran back out onto the porch and started recording. I swear, if God was up there bowling, he got plenty of strikes. (You'll even hear me mention that in the video.)

When I'm recording on my camera, once I start actually recording, I can't zoom in or out. A big problem. I wanted to get a close up of the rain pounding the sidewalks and literally pouring from my gutters. So I did another quick recording. Here it is.

I tried to show how wet I was, but, sadly, I didn't hold the camera far enough away. Sorry! And yes, I do sound like a guy--especially on recordings, but I guarantee you, I'm not. I'm one of those girls who has a more mellow voice rather than a squeal-y one.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

An Overdue Introduction

I never thought about directly talking about myself, or even introducing myself to the blogging world. I just jumped in, feet first. Don't you hate you jump into a body of water, say a lake, off a pier and come up gasping, the water so cold you feel like someone packed you in ice? That's pretty much what I did. A rush job; just jumped in without a thought, and sludged my way back to shore. This post, for all the people who don't get symbolism (and no, that's not an insult!), is my shore. This is me, standing on the shore, recuperating, ready to start over.

My name is Sara. I live in Wisconsin--the one place I'd rather be anywhere else. People call this state the Cheese/Dairy State. I call it the Manure State. Sure, it's full of cows which produce dairy--ergo, it's full of shit. Now, I live in a nice--and when I say nice, I mean, friggen boring, depressing, and lonely--city called You Wish, People!
which is surrounded by dairy farms.
My only escape is when I'm at my University, stuffing my brain full of knowledge. Or taking pictures. That is my real escape. Is it symbolic of leading a life filled with misery and loneliness that I only take pictures of delapidated buildings? Maybe. Is it symbolic of me being an outsider, an outcast, that I only take pictures of landscapes void of people? Quite possibly.
But then again, I lead a life where I am content being me. Maybe a little fatter than I'd like to be, but still. I laugh, I sing, I write with a vengance. I fill myself with happy memories and happy experiences--90% of the time, that is. Of course, I'll always have the downs that come with the ups. Who doesn't? That's a part of life, isn't it? What's pleasure without pain; what's fire without water; what's the sun without the moon; and what's a woman without a man, and vice versa?
I literally have thousands of pictures that a psychologist, even a therapist would like to use to tear apart my psyche.
With that said, I am indeed a content person. The world on the outside is a miserable place, the environment on the inside is elated and peaceful. I don't know how I got here, but I digress.
One of my outlets is music. Some songs--and I know this will sound weird but then again, what about me isn't weird?--seem to bond or merge with something deep inside my chest. I feel a special connection the likes of which I have never felt with another person, or place. Music is unique and can keep a person in a depressed state or lift them out of one.
This blog has been an assortment of my past, my experiences--whether supernatural or not, my thoughts and beliefs, and things that I have put down on paper, whether they've been a masterminded short story, a moving yet confusing poem, or bits and pieces of my novels.
What this blog will contain in the future? That remains to be seen.

Friday, July 11, 2008

A Breathtaking Adventure

I'm not sure how to start this, so I'll just start. Last night I had one of the most amazing dreams that I've ever had in my life, and probably will ever have. I don't remember most of it, just the ending--most of it was a blur--but what I do remember, I will never forget.
I'm on some kind of trip, surrounded by people my age--late teens to mid-twenties--but this is not a school arranged trip. I don't know how else to explain it other than a mass gathering of people my age.
I remember getting settled in this massive suite with three other girls, who were unbelievably down-to-earth, out-going, and friendly--exact replicas of me. Odd, but true. We dumped our bags on the bed before approaching the three huge windows that were lined side-to-side. We stopped in awe, then moved forward. We stood so close that our breath fogged the glass. The scenery before us was enough to take away the breath of even the most pessimistic person on the planet. Outside were snow-covered mountain ridges, with bits of rock peaking through, that seemed close enough to touch. In fact, the hotel that we were standing in had to be built on the slope of the mountains, in a narrow valley. We could see only the lower 2/3's of the mountainsides before thick, whitish-gray clouds covered the higher peaks. Still, it was more than enough snow and mountain for me to fall instantly in a mixture of awe, fascination, and love.
There was a knock at the door, and we seemed to come down to earth, so to speak. One of the girls answered the door, and another woman ran into the room, chattering excitedly.
"Did you see the view?" she squealed.
We assured her we that we did--barely--before she starting yapping away again, talking about some really cute guys that were on another floor.
Some time has passed in a blur between our going to that floor and the time we walked into our suite.
The floor we went to looked like the lobby; it wasn't the lobby, of course, but sure looked like one. It was only a few floors below our own. I barely remember walking around talking to everyone else, but I do remember going over to the windows, and staring at the snow-covered mountain sides. And I do remember being so moved by the sight before me, I could barely breathe. I was there for an indeterminable amount of time before he showed up.
An extremely well-built athletic man who looked to be in his early twenties stood next to me, also looking out at the scene before him.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked me, his voice soft with awe.
"That's the biggest understatement ever uttered," I replied, just as softly.
He smiled, and when he did, he seemed to glow with the most wonderful energy--the kind that makes you just feel indescribably happy and content and whole. He had that kind of personality. A rarity.
"You should come to my room," he said.
"I think there's something you would love to see."
Now, I know what most of you are thinking, but that's not what he meant, or what happened.
"All right," I replied. I wasn't the least bit uncomfortable, afraid, or hesitant about it.
We walked in silence, but it was an enjoyable, comfortable silence. Somehow I felt that I was finally meeting a friend that I had always known, but never before seen. When we entered his room, he told me to close my eyes--which I did--and led me to the windows.
"Open them," he said, a smile in his voice.
I did and gasped aloud. What I saw blew my mind. I felt stunned, blown away, unable to believe what I was seeing, but at the same time knowing what I was seeing was real. The scene before me was opposite of what I saw in my room. Here I was above the cloud cover, and immediately to the left, and incredibly close to where we were standing, was a snow-covered peak, with bits of rock showing beneath as well. Only about a few hundred feet of the peak was visible before the rest was swallowed by the pink-tinged clouds. There were a few more peaks showing in the distance, and on the horizon just a sliver of the sun was visible, turning the sky into fluctuating pink and orange streaks.

I've found a few pictures online that slightly resemble the scene in my dream. This is the best one I found. Flip the picture around so that the peak is on the left, not the right, and that's a near perfect example of what I saw in my dream. The only real difference is that the pink tinged clouds that cover most of the upper half of the picture aren't there, and the ice fog that you see in the lower half of the picture is instead clouds, with just a tad bit more pink and orange coloring.

"I want your room," I mumbled numbly. He laughed lightly.
With that, I started to slip into consciousness. The last thing I remember was the two of us sitting on one of the beds, talking--with frequent glances out the window, and momentarily silent pauses.
I only wish--no, my only wish is that I could somehow take the things I saw in that dream out of my head, and into the computer, or a camera, so that I could show others the breathtaking beauty of what I had seen. Until then, you can only imagine, not truly experience and see what I dreamed. Let's hope for the technology--as far-fetched as it seems--to come along for that to happen.