scorp 4 scorp

anniversaire

corey and i went to backpack in the wallowa mountains in northeastern oregon this august. it had been a trail we both dreamed of exploring for many years, before ever knowing each other, and we finally got the chance.

the skies were clear of wildfire smoke and mosquitoes, though the risk of each was high. we had three nights and four days to drive 6 hours to the trailhead, hike 36 miles through meadows, over three mountain passes, by glacial lakes, gaining almost 8000 feet, descend, and drive on back home.

as we grew near the range, the paved road became gravel, and we drove for over an hour without service deeper into the forest in a part of the state that feels very wild and uninhabited. we arrived at 4pm, which was later than we wanted, but we had been so tired from our work week hustle. we immediately started out on a trail for about two miles, uphill, already beginning to regret this commitment with so much weight on my back. then, the trail suddenly ended. we looked and looked, but unless we were to scale a rock face, there seemed to be no way forward.

these warm-up pains and the stress of the sun getting lower had me feeling pretty grumpy and skeptical of our ability to successfully complete the hike. we planned to do at least 7 miles that first night, but we did 4 that weren’t even on the right trail. we turned around, and soon into our retracing of our steps, we encountered a couple of teenagers driving an ATV up the trail with an older woman in the back. with much frustration for how badly marked the trailhead is, she directed us to the right starting point, and held her cup of vodka and limeade up to us with some good luck cheer.

and from there, things started to drop into focus. the huckleberry-lined trail eventually led us to meadows overflowing with more wildflowers than i had ever seen, meadows held in valleys surrounded by mountains along which roamed elk, wolf, and long-horn sheep— all of which we were eventually blessed to see throughout the weekend.

we didn’t get as many miles in that first night as we wanted, but we got far enough. we set up our tent in the last vespers, on the lush and floral bank of a stream.

the wallowas are known as the alps of oregon, and it’s a moniker that makes sense. our second day hiking brought us over two mountain passes, to our body’s limits, and to a series of alpine lakes that are stupidly beautiful.

digital afternoon (above) and analog dusk (below)

corey had a plan to make me dinner this evening— which, when you’re backpacking is a funny notion, because you are often just bringing water to a boil and then pouring it over freeze-dried meals in foil-lined pouches. but, as sometimes happens with altitude shifts and changes in body temperature after so much exertion, corey became chilled to the bone with sunset, snuggling up in their sleeping bag with our reconstituting pouch of korma against their belly.

once they warmed up, we feasted while we watched the last bits of sunlight ascend to the mountains’ tops around the lake. this has to be the most beautiful place i have ever seen, i told corey. and i said it at least two more times, in a shock of awe. then corey got up, went over to the tent, came back and joined me again, extending their hand with a little vintage ring box out toward mine.

though we basically knew by our fourth date that we would never want to leave each other’s sides again, and though we almost eloped in cuba six months into knowing each other, and though we had visited the jewelry store together— both deciding on a ring of lapiz lazuli with gold and pyrite splashes, a kind of starry sky— i still felt so stunned and giddy by it’s arrival.

we went to bed that night with the fly off our tent, the sky above us perfectly visible and setting the stage for the peak of the perseid’s meteor shower. we watched the sky as trails of light caught our eyes, daring us to chase them with our vision— some trails fleeting flashes of white, others thick bands of orange. i had never seen anything like it, and i drifted toward sleep overflowing— i thought to myself, this isn’t even a dream come true, because i wouldn’t have dared to dream this.

i’m so grateful for the time that i’ve had with corey so far and all that we’ve journeyed to discover together. whether it is traversing mountain passes by foot or navigating our intersecting psychic landscapes, we have covered so much ground. and tho sometimes i have felt grief that corey and me have met as we are both nearly 40, there has also been something so magical about how ready we were for each other, precisely because of the paths and times that had come before— a knowing that feels too oceanic to write out.

today is corey’s birthday, so i also share this story of our oregon alps and our engagement as a kind of birthday love note to them. this trip was the most challenging backpack i had ever done, and in many ways, so is this relationship. i am seeing parts of myself that i haven’t wanted to look at in decades, let alone be witnessed by anyone else. and i know that the foundation and container of this love is exactly the thing that gives me the courage and the vulnerability to do it.

in true scorp 4 scorp nature, i am endlessly transforming by our love. and i am fucking stoked for any and all the time we get together in this life.