Four days in the high Olympics. One last hurrah before summer slips away. Of course, autumn comes a little earlier in the mountains, and we felt it in the cold rain that turned to sleet on the hike in, then waking up to a heavy frost (and ice on any standing water smaller than the lake) the next morning. But we had plenty of blue skies as well, the sun strong enough to compel us to strip any extra layers if not to tempt us into the bottomless blue waters.
Back home today, I did my last long run before the half-marathon (less than two weeks away!) and spent a day at all the chores to get ready for the week ahead. September is a busy month for us, and October is shaping up about the same. But yesterday, we were still suspended in mountain time, and we spent a good share of the hike out planning our ideal itinerary for a return trip next summer, and alternate approaches, and daydreaming about bigger hiking trips. Which I take as a sign of a very good trip. And indeed, it was.