Running Amok

A Sunday morning hike is as rejuvenating as a mid-week run. If not more so. For me, hiking is to running the equivalent of “stopping to smell the roses”. The slower pace enables me to see more, experience more, and is a more viable option for weekend visitors wishing to tag along.

Today’s solo hike was no exception. The off-the-beaten-path route I chose took me to dizzying heights and left me breathless at the top of a giant cliff. As I surveyed my world below I sat and pondered awhile on a rocky outcrop. It would be pretty difficult to get lost in my playground on the west side of the lake. This area of land is bounded by the lake on the east side, giant cliffs on the west, McIntyre Bluff on the south and Okanagan Falls about 10 kilometers to the north. There are four boundaries so getting lost is not really a problem, however, getting down could be.

Gasping at the view, and for air, this thought fleetingly crossed my mind as I surveyed the route I had just come up. What was I thinking? It was steep! And I'm not exactly your average mountain goat.

I took a few moments to enjoy my vantage point and inhaled the incredible view.  From way up here I could see my tiny house down on the lake with Farmer Thompson’s field stretched out behind it and Hatfield Island in front of it. I scanned the meadow directly below me for signs of wildlife and noticed one of my regular running trails; from up here it looked like a skinny line drawn through the grass. The thin veil of early morning fog which accompanied me at the start was lifting now, revealing a warm and blue October sky behind it. How perfect could it get?

I turned south and carefully contemplated a route down, the vivid fall colors everywhere a feast for my eyes and a beautiful distraction. Following the natural valleys down, I eventually came to a vaguely familiar trail at the bottom of a loose and narrow scree slope. I was confident this course would lead me to a point just below the pictographs and I could meander on down to the fishing lagoons which wasn't too far from my waiting boat.

Everyone has their own “Utopia” or "Shangri-La", that idyllic spot they can go to for sanctuary and salvation. This place is my sanctuary and its right here on my door step, I am in my Utopia every day I am here. It is where I feel most free--free from the maddening crowds of the city, free from bumper-to-bumper traffic congestion, free from the rat race! It occurs to me that I'm daydreaming again.

Out of the corner of my eye I'm awakened by a slight movement. It is a deer silently analyzing the offbeat figure moving by--that is me. I'm used to the silent treatment from deer and wait for him to instantly pronk away, but he doesn't, he just stands and watches. He stays long enough for me to capture him on my iPhone and then he is gone.

It feels late, the deer has left and a strange silence has descended. How perfect can it get?