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This past Sunday, I had the opportunity to take what will possibly be the most beautiful hike of my life. Now, I am a man. My spirit belongs in the wild. Where nothing else can survive, I flourish.

Its a long way in from the road. The trail is demanding and narrow. Most people don't make it and fewer still come back.

After miles of trail, it disappears. Only rocks and boulders are left. I continue upward. Darkness surrounds me. My legs ache. My mind is exhausted from my regular life. I need rest. I need to be home.

As I reach the top of the scree, I am greeted by a warm sunrise. It climbs over the horizon with slow and deliberate movement. I wait. A moment for the valley to be illuminated, I wait. The cool fluid flows over my head, each droplet finding a hair to cling too. I strip off my sweat-soaked shirt and wring it out. The warm sun hugs me like a masseuse. I am almost there.

After the rope is clipped and my things are repacked, I swing around the rock and sit into my harness. As I become still, I look up at that awe-inspiring rock and stop for a second. Right at that moment, the valley lights up with grays and greens and blues, along with a gold tone over everything.

I dance over the painted rock as I descend the thousand foot face. Years of fluid stains the granite with blacks and dark greens. Soon, I am surrounded by the greenest of grass you've ever seen. I descend a little further to boulders that rest next to the lake.

The lake is a very cool deep blue. The rocks penetrate into it's depths. The surface is as smooth as glass. The silver walls are reflected perfectly off of the mirror in front of me. Most of the rocks are sharp and rough. My rock is smooth and flat. The lake is surrounded by the tallest walls, like a fortress. The walls climb into oblivion as though they are trying to touch the sky. After some nourishment, I drift off to the sweet slumber of home.