16 miles of rain in the enchanted PNW

I woke up early because I could tell it was going to rain. I guess I haven't lost "my touch" yet for sensing rain, as I hear will happen to me as I stay in the west, or maybe it's just that rain follows me around, so I sense it always. I don't know. In any case, there my diurnal clock went at 6 am whispering... "it's going to rain... go outside... it's going to rain."

Who can turn down a slightly rainy morning at fifty degrees? I thought for a moment of my days plans: not much, other than to try to do the Jackson Mountain trail at Muir Woods. Damn good plans, eh? It seemed only fitting that I might as well get an early run in at Mt. Tamalpais State Park, as well. I've been itching to run there since the last time I was here. I grabbed a gas station coffee, some gas, and a bagel and meandered up Hwy 101 to Muir Woods. It was a good day at Muir Woods at 7:15 am. No one was there. I put on my Sauconys and my Arcteryx and let the rain come down on me as I hopped, ran, and jumped over rich mollisols. In the distance, there were a few houses, painted in dull sea colors with white siding. Past that, the pacific ocean, barely visible through the fog. Deers played around as I ran, not at all afraid that I was about to mow them down. I'm not sure when I'm going to get used to that-- Pacific deer, ever time I have seen them, are fearless. Not harmful, just fearless. I guess that's how deer are supposed to be?

I thought as I ran, I think maybe at some point I'm supposed to feel homesick. I kept trying to will it on myself. "You're never going back," I thought. "You're never going back to that place." It didn't seem to work. All I could think of was the last chapter of Narnia. The story is something that the four kids (main characters) have just fought this epic battle in Narnia that they were called from our world to fight. The battle is over but only thanks to Aslan, who has brought them to this new world. The new world is really awesome-- they can run up waterfalls, ride the talking horses, eat the fruit from the floating gardens, etc. So they're just enjoying this new world to the nines and then they see Aslan just hanging around. They get kind of upset, right, because every time Aslan appears it seems like they are going to be sent back to our world (which they call "the Shadowlands") So one of them asks Aslan something like "I guess this is it and we're going back to our world now?" And Aslan replies that there has been a train wreck and in fact they are now permanently in this new world, where they will be and be happy forever.

Actually, looking online, he says, "The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is

ended: this is the morning." Then it goes on to give the paragraph that used to fill my eight year old body with some kind of hopeful tremble (and it still does, admittedly):

"And as He spoke, He no longer looked to them like a lion... All their life in this world and all the adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before."

That is what I felt on the mountain. Maybe there is supposed to be some kind of longing, but how could I miss anything when I'm running through the coastal mountains in the middle of a PNW rain- "storm"-- it's far too beautiful.

You are probably wondering where the other seven or so miles comes in. I did make it to Muir Woods, and although part of the Jackson Mountain trail was closed, I knocked back most of the Salmon and Hillside trails in a few hours and got to be amongst the redwoods. When I was a kid I had a CD called "cloud forests." It was just a CD of rain and bird noises. I remember trying to imagine what it was like in the cloud forests-- I was in one today-- the answer is that it is magical. I could barely stand to go inside my car to head back through the city for some navigation practice, except that I was kind of hungry again and I dreamed of having a giant bowl of kiddie cereal with some berries in it. And it was good. Sixteen miles and blueberry toast crunch mixed with mixed cheerios and pineapples and soymilk was downright stellar.

I keep thinking I'm going to get up tomorrow and have to go to the airport and fly back to the southeast. I'm almost scared when I get up that being here forever is too good to be true. I know it sounds stupid, but whatever. It's kind of like learning to see a new color or something. You know, you can't really describe it because your only context is the other colors, but it's definitely there, and great, and you never knew it was coming, but now that you can see it, the world looks completely different.

Right on. So much lameness above... but so much truth.