I dragged my trekking poles all the way from the trail head to the truck. If defeat was a noise it would be trekking poles and heavy feet dragging on gravel.
The dusty black truck was hot and stale on the inside, but I had never been more relieved to be sitting down.
Everyone settled in silently and we started the journey back home to our valley.
A piece of me was proud, another exhausted, peaceful, sad to be done.
We bumped down the winding dirt path that passed as a road, kicking up dust that settled on the ferns and saplings.
After a few moments, I looked up into the rear view mirror.
And even though I hadn't showered in three days, had no make up on, and was so tired my legs felt like immovable structures...
despite it all... I couldn't stop staring.
For maybe the first time in my life, I was stunned by the person looking back at me.