At some point yesterday morning, I was asked what I was doing for the day. “Chores.” Household things needed to happen, but it was also pretty lame answer. So to my Precious (cell phone) I go. There were no movies that sparked my soul and it was too hot to for much else to sound fun. Then I suddenly remembered that it’s been a full moon, and that for years I’ve been hoping to remember to hike Lassen in the dark.
Luckily when you’re a little unbalanced such as I am, you find that you may have other like minded folks in your life. I paused the exciting car vacuuming and out-of-the-blue flung Stefanie a text. What follows is the entirely of “planning”
Me: “Any interest in a night Lassen hike?”
Stefanie: “When?”
Me: “Tonight (?)
Stefanie: “What time we leaving?”
Brief chat about how Kim would be picked up. Not so much asking Kim as letting her know she’d be coming along. And that was it.
If you haven’t hiked Lassen, put that on your list. It’s close to home, it’s a well cared for path, and it’s absolutely stunning. There’s not technical skill needed, just less slippy shoes, and that internal voice that keeps telling you to step.
A backpack full of uncrustables also helps.
We knew we were making this adventure up on the fly when someone at Kim’s house asked if we’d chosen this night because the meteor shower. It only took him a second to tell by the look on our faces, “You guys didn’t even know there was a meteor shower did you?” Nope. Sure didn’t.
A eventless drive later, we found ourselves at the summit trail head. There were only a handful of cars in the lot. There would have been no one there to witness the violence Stefanie looked like she wanted to inflict on us when Kim and I pointed out the tiny tiny people you could barely see silhouetted on the ridgeline near the summit. In true Stefanie fashion, a brief grumble was followed by an inability to do anything but concur the obstacle.
We didn’t know how long the hike was. We encountered almost no one the entire way up. We could see forever until about half way through when we switched to headlamps.
It was 60 degrees when we started. A beautiful departure from the valley’s 100 plus temperature. As the sun set and the altitude climbed, it got flat cold. Luckily, I’d worn my fancy pants.
We really had no idea how long we’d take walking in the dark. We started to encounter groups of people that we had no idea had been at the summit to watch what had to be a stunning sunset. The hike-ability of the summit trail meant we passed all sorts of groups of people; young, old, serious hikers, us, etc. They told us the summit was near. I’m not sure if it was the great company or the changing view as the sky changed, but I was convinced the “you’re almost there” people were lying. They weren’t.
At the summit, it was biting cold and windy AF. But also dark and still. It occurred to us that we had no idea what time the moon actually rises. It also occurred to me that I really was with the right peeps because a quick uncrustable and selfie and they were ready to continue to explore. You know, because….cold. But also because “we have moon at home.” Some dude in a glowing jacket advised us that the moon was only 97% full and expected to rise in just a few minutes.
The trail put us on the side for what we hoped would be a decent view. Our numb handed selves headed down.
I noticed a surreal light that I didn’t recall seeing before. A bright orange orb spread light on the horizon. It really took me a second to process then blurt out, “YOU GUYS! IT’S THE MOON!”
It’s the same moon we’ve all seen in countless places. I didn’t expect it to seem nearly sacred. But something about the stillness of the night and the connection to nature made it so. Small pockets of people up and down the trail could be heard ooh-ing and ah-ing or howling. I felt positively connected to the universe and my heart swelled with gratitude for buddies willing to shenanigan, health, and nature. I took a second to just be still. Of course I ruined it by being my socially awkward self (“You guys. This is spiritual or something”), but it continued to be a pretty perfect night.
Up in light and down in darkness made it seem like two separate hikes. We encountered a number of people who chose not to use any light at all. They’re stallions.
We chose light, chat about Lululemon, and discussion about the incredible wedge salad at Claim Jumpers in Roseville. We’re pretty fierce, but also know what we like.
Stefanie assured us we’d encounter a bear in the road. I’m pleased to say she was wrong. They both got to question my night driving ability and the brake-i-ness of the grocery getter. But we made it home unscathed.
I count myself as very lucky to have the people I have to rally for impromptu weirdness. I look forward to whatever the next adventure with the next folks will be (but I’m not running any damn place). I highly recommend this be on your list of awesome reasonable adventures.
Thanks for reading!
Bifocals and Barbells 