Today as I drove past Sausalito and toward Tiburon on my way back from USF, I glanced at Mt. Tam. And I knew Lex, Tyson, and I, were on that exact time one year ago.
We may as well as scaled Mt. Kilimanjaro. It was our Mt. Kilimanjaro. And I could see up there, into the past as if it were running simultaneously to the present.
The three of us were on the highest peak in the North Bay. They had just jumped out of an airplane. Lex was conquering his fear of heights, yet again, on the steep rock inclines and dirt paths and rickety wood bridges to the top.
Marketa messaged into the chat with Jackie and I about getting fired today from Center Point. None of that mattered from the top of our world.
I was impatient with them as they smoked their blunts.
We were soused in accomplishment, comradery, and an experience that could never possibly happen again.
Today in traffic, I saw the three of us on top of Mt. Tam. And we were happy.