Racing the rising sun up the final push of the pass, make it just a little too on time for the red of first light against the far peaks.
Even with our dawdling, we break timber just before the peak of the long autumn sunset. Heron, Grouse, Bear, & Rising Moon come to give us their good blessings, and we know this is the answer of the mountain spirits. We set up camp again in the dark, now casting shadows in silver, and rest our tired bones.
Mt. Steel's unassuming southeast face watches over a ferny glen among the rocks.
