For Thanksgiving weekend this year, we decided to meet some friends for a night of camping in a nearby provincial park, and take on a 22km hike up into the high alpine the following morning.

We spent our night huddled around a beautifully hot fire, with cans of warm soup and cans of ice-cold beer. After hours of stargazing, and storytelling, we set up our tents and huddled up into our sleeping bags for the night.

It was tremendously cold!!

After hours of tossing and turning, rubbing our palms together, and adding layers and layers of wool and nylon to our cold bodies, Bryson and I finally fell asleep for a total of 3.5 hours.

We woke up bleary-eyed to the sound of Whiskey Jacks on our tent, and the roar of our friend Amanda's very much appreciated propane fire pit.

We huddled up once more, ate our oats, sipped hot tea out of our tin cups, and prepped some snacks and sandwiches to fuel our bodies later on.

After a few hours of talking, packing, and funny aerobics to wake us up, we were off down the road to the base of the trail.

We lightened our packs to the best of our abilities and threw on as many layers as we could carry.

As we climbed the switchbacks we could see the beginning of winter on distant peaks, and soon we were surrounded by the warm mustardy hues of the famous larches.

Oh, the larches!! A truly holy sight.

I so wish I could keep their glow in a box to revisit when I need a bit of light. A reminder of this wild place.

We climbed up and up into the cold air. The wind was loud and at times bone-chilling as we made our final ascent to the peak. Slick patches of ice and snow, every second stone unseated, adding a little uneasiness to every step.

This all making the peak just that much sweeter.

Eyes stinging, throats twinged, noses raw, and hands without feeling.

We smiled as we attempted to peel the eggs that our friend Justin had boiled for us as a summit treat.

We were here!