the second day is always harder

On the second day, there is snow . . .

. . . and gorgeous landscapes sweeping away from us.

The path follows the ridge for hours.

We try not to fall into metaphors about “the path” or “the journey.”

There is lunch on the top of the world.

and Keas, the cheeky birds of the high places.

I attempt handstands somewhere high.

And eventually we descend into this temperate rainforest, and keep descending . . . and descending . . . and descending. At a low point, we thought we'd missed the turnoff for the cabin, we'd been at it so long. It was our least favorite part of the climb. That night we slept well.