I’ve always dreaded growing old until I spent time in the Pacific Northwest. There’s something about the lush remoteness that made me excited to settle down in a little house with a big garden and a few goats. Being surrounded by muggy fog next to the ocean had me dreaming about the future—setting goals and making investments. Washington is home to three National Parks: Mount Rainier, Olympic, and North Cascades. While spending two weeks in the state I was able to visit two of them.
On a stormy Saturday I headed to Mount Rainier from Kent with three friends. The rain quickly turned into snow once we got into the park and drove higher in elevation. We pulled into the parking lot of Paradise and were greeted by plump snow falling from the sky. We bundled up – mask and all – and started down the trail. The ground was slippery but the snow caressing the red and green pines felt like a snow globe. We hiked until the first waterfall and then headed back to the car.
Views while hiking around Paradise on a snowy Saturday(more…)
Jenny Lake trail was the hike I didn’t know I needed. I woke up this morning feeling overworked and stressed. So what did I do to take my mind off things? I got in my car at six in the morning and drove to the Grand Tetons.
I went to one of the most known places to watch the sunrise: Mormon Row. This area consists of old homes built by Mormon settlers during the late 1800s and early 1900s. When the sun peaks above the hills, the jutted Tetons turn purple creating a delicate landscape full of a rural history.
Mormon Row at sunrise
After the sun rose and the good lighting disappeared, I hopped in my car and drove toward the Jenny Lake trailhead. It was around 8:30 a.m. when I arrived at the packed parking lot for the trail, so I kept driving down the road until reaching the parking lot for the String Lake trailhead. This trail eventually leads to Jenny Lake, and I’m glad I added on this peaceful start to the hike. Jenny Lake trail via String Lake trailhead is a 7.5-mile loop hike, but I ended up walking a total of ten miles to visit all the destinations along this trail.
My time here is ending before it even started. I moved to Chicago on the first of March—three weeks before the whole world shut down. I received a full-time job offer right after I moved, but it was cancelled due to the lockdown. So I was quarantining in a new apartment with new roommates in a major city.
One of the last public gatherings I attended was the Bernie Rally on March 7th.
At first I thought, “wow, all the time I had ever wanted to get everything done,” but how can I be productive when the fall of our species seems to be so near? Helpless and stranded, I often found my eyes glued to my phone while hundreds die every day and the rich get richer while the poor get poorer. Days turned into weeks turned into months. Looking back, it’s hard to remember what occupied me those days: much learning, much writing, and much wondering.
Chicago’s streets have remained mostly empty since the Illinois stay-at-home order was put into effect on March 21. Mayor Lightfoot anticipates an extension of the order into May as COVID-19 cases have doubled compared to last week, but nonetheless Chicago is bending the curve.
Then it was the end of May, and many went from isolating to gathering in large groups as a result of George Floyd being murdered by Derek Chauvin. People came together in a way like never before—shutting down major cities while wearing masks to protect one another. It felt as if the world had shut down so we could focus on the systematic racism and police brutality that has been present in our country for so long. This was a time in every person’s life where they could work to understand what had happened when Chauvin pressed his knee to Floyd’s neck for eight never-ending minutes. And the whole world erupted.
Back in 2015 it was difficult to find Horseshoe Bend Overlook. I drove to Page, Arizona with my family, and we parked our car along the shoulder of U.S. 89. We hiked up the Navajo sandstone for 1.5 miles until reaching the steep drop off with a view of the canyon outlined with a 270-degree turn of the teal Colorado River. There were a few others enjoying the view, and my mom was constantly warning me to get away from the edge in fear I might fall.
Fast forward to 2019 where I was greeted by a fee booth where an employee asked for $10 to visit the canyon. After paying I pulled into a huge parking lot and claimed a spot. The lot was crowded with tourists hoping to catch a colorful sunset at Horseshoe Bend, and the overlook trail was no different. Children raced to the overlook while their parents shouted for them to slow down and be careful. When we made it to the orange canyon I noticed a metal fence along the overlook blocking people from plunging 1,100 feet to the river.
RILEY J ROAMS 