Happy Medium-Less.

When you are getting dusty, sweaty, and sticky from hiking three days straight, one of the primary goals on your mind is to take a really really satisfying shower. I am talking the kind that doesn't get cold at the end because you have taken too long, and the kind where you can shampoo your hair twice, just to feel that extra bit of cleanliness. Well, I just showered, and it was a disappointment. I couldn't find that perfect temperature. It was either a scorching hot that pulsed down on my sunburn, or chilled (VERY unsatisfying.) In the end- happy medium was never found. I have been trying to find that middle ground much too much lately. How far can the situation be pushed before finally crumbling into mounds of unwanted ruins? How much maturity is acceptable for our age, and how much innocence and naivety we are allowed to keep? I think this question is very troubling, especially to a certain someone at the moment, who would like the naivety to last a little longer. I miss everyone.

So YAH hiking is real nice. Even nicer is the California coastal terrain. It is so odd- one minute you will be in a field of sad grass, dying of malnutrition (there is a drought going on in Cali.) The next 50 feet will be in a lush coniferous forest, strongly resembling Murkwood. I won't go into insignificant details of the three day long trip, but I will tell the highlights. On Monday, we stayed on Muir Beach. This highly unpopulated village consisted of 125 homes, an unsanitary beach, and the Pelican Inn. When we were hiking to Muir Beach, the sun was beginning to lower on the horizon line, and therefor was reflecting onto the Pacific Ocean. This view most definitely ranks up there with the most.. majestic sights I have ever witnessed. When I get home, it's picture will find its way onto this blog.

Today, when we were heading back south towards San Francisco, I caught a glimpse of the cluster of sky scrappers in the distance. Amongst them, was the towers of the Golden Gate bridge. The strange thing though, was that I was larger than the Golden Gate bridge. I could look down upon what looked like toy cars, whizzing by. I could see the tops of trees, houses, and ant-sized people. I felt LARGE! This was the good kind of large. The powerful, conquering kind. I was bigger, better, and more liberated then any of these man-made-masses. Then, when I looked down at my feet, and saw a beetle that I had just carelessly crushed with my boot. I felt so insensitive. Like clumsy, and powerless. I couldn't do a thing to help the countless parts of nature that I most likely weakened today, by trudging through their home. Poweful or Powerless. I can never find that happy medium.

When I've been fixed I am convinced that I will not get so broke up again.