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December 12 2023, Porters Creek Hut to Red Hills Hut:
I fell in love with the Richmond Ranges and I found I would go through it all over again. We slept in today and figured we would hike a small mileage day today so we could spend an extra night in the mountains and possibly reunite with our group at Red Hills Hut.
We had a steep decent back down to the valley. The wind picked up and gentle rain made its way in. We walked the river bed for some time then made our way back through thickly scattered trees and bushels, receiving stunning views of the mountain side.
I felt intense cramps today and had to take many breaks even though the trail itself wasn’t too challenging grade wise, neither elevation wise. I loved that Orange was always open to having it flow whichever way it needed to go and was fully supportive in being here for me when I wasn’t feeling too hot. I curled up in a fetal position directly on the trail until the feelings dissipated.
Today, I received insights about how important it was not to idolize the world. There was no safety in something that was so fleeting. There wasn’t a such thing as true Love here. True unconditional Love was only experienced in Reality through God. It wasn’t to be looked at as something that was depressing, but quite the contrary. It brought comfort to my mind to know that only that Love could be supplied from the Creator. I could rest assured with the awareness that the experience of a body in a world could flow by with ease, for it was nothing more than dust passing in the wind.
“I love how the trail makes me think,” Orange said as we trekked through the meadow marshes. “But also makes me cease thinking.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” I said as I hopped over muddy bogs.
We got to the hut and I removed my wet socks and shoes. I laid out on the deck and basked in the sun as Misty rain droplets fell upon my bare skin. Orange laid down in the grass and bit off the corner piece of his chocolate biscuit that to me resembled a piece of chalk, both the appearance and the crunching sound when he took a bite.
An older German man showed shortly after us. I offered him some watermelon sour patch gummies.
“I’ll try anythin’ as long as it has suga,” he said.
I laughed and asked him how he found the trail to be today.
“It was like holding onto two bits of sand when trying to find something to grasp onto,” he said.
Truth be told. I remember voicing to Orange the same thing. “This is not a trail,” I would say over and over again, shocked by how the trail went where it did.
Jax showed up and I noticed my heart rate go up. He asked if we wanted to split a room with him in town and without even talking it over with Orange I immediately said yes! My mind wandered on what could be. He looked like he could be Quadzilla’s brother, both in appearance and personality. My mind got lost in lustful thoughts.
Orange and I weren’t a thing, but in the end I would love to be with someone like him. He had the same life vision as me, identical goals and interests, the same understanding of God. So why did I ruin what could be a good thing and move towards something that felt more quickly satisfying for my flesh? It seemed I often self sabotaged what was given to me for the simple sake of receiving a quick fantasy.
By the end of the night, the rest of our group had piled in. The Japanese girls set up their tent outside, the French Canadian couple joined us inside the hut. The last thing I saw before heading to bed was everyone smiling, whether through sharing conversation, reading a book or appreciating the setting of the sun.