my entitlement of this long-procrastinated post is probably my memory's error in attempting to recall
martin luther king, jr.'s
last line in a famous speech, but nonetheless it aptly described how i feel,
coming off of a 12-day
intensive
backpacking trip through the
adirondacks
of new york.
summer has finally begun, which was promptly recognized with philadelphia's thermometers climbing to a record-threatening high of 101 degrees today,
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summer has finally begun, which was promptly recognized with philadelphia's thermometers climbing to a record-threatening high of 101 degrees today,
not that i minded,
since i got to go swimming with my best friends
christie and trevor.
(another reason i can tell summer has officially begun: i got a sunburn today from shoddy sunscreen application that left my back with distinct fingerprint marks on the places i thought i reached and evidently, by the pattern of red skin on my back, i did not thoroughly coat in SPF 50 sunscreen.)
my backpacking trip, you ask?
it was the hardest thing i did...and potentially,
the hardest thing i will ever do.
the peaks were intense,
the trails muddy,
the handholds few (and far between),
the food was filling (or my stomach shrunk),
my boots weren't always dry,
and
my journal was filled with prayers to God, deep thoughts, and vivid descriptions of each day's activities.
i wrote about 40-50 pages on this little excursion called
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