GOAT ROCKS WILDERNESS, WA:
As dawn was about to break, I found solace in the quiet of my early morning drive. The roads provided a blank canvas for gratitude and today’s trail-thought. This morning, my heart embraced the cheesy romantic comedies that offer a break from reality, even if only for a couple hours. Romcoms can be a metaphor for life’s complexities, featuring strong, independent souls facing unexpected crossroads, often against a backdrop of charming landscapes and heartfelt connections. These movies—though predictable—offer a delightful escape, reminding me of the transformative power of love. With each waypoint, I’m reminded that life, like these romcoms, is rich with twists, turns, and moments that call for reflection. Today’s reflection revolves around these themes, inviting me to explore the beauty of connection, even as I walk alone.
With anticipation, I stepped onto the Packwood Lake Trail, the air crisp and fresh, filled with the promise of a lush forest trail. Each raindrop from the tall timbers created a symphony of sounds that complimented the earthy aromas of the trail with the fresh scent of the forest. This 8-mile loop, and its elevation gain of ~1,000 feet, serves as both a physical experience and a metaphor for life’s journey. The trail unfolded like a painting, with vibrant greens against splashes of autumn hues, inviting me to immerse myself in the moment. As I hiked, I reflected on the lessons nature teaches us—how every ascent comes with its own set of challenges and rewards. Four miles in, I paused to absorb the views of Packwood Lake, where the sky’s moody hues mirror the depths of my own thoughts—each step deeper into understanding.
Yet, as I navigated the winding trails, emotions bubbled to the surface, confronting the paradox of my identity. Classified as “single,” I grapple with a sense of emotional solitude that doesn’t quite fit. The laughter of couples sharing a moment sparks memories of shared times, reigniting questions about connection and belonging. My journey today was an exploration of what it means to seek love in all its forms. I pondered the romance that exists outside traditional relationships—like in the joy of a baseball game, the sweetness of chocolate, a vivid poem, or the strumming of a guitar. Embracing the ambiguity of my feelings, I discovered that acknowledging my heart’s desire is a crucial part of my path. Descending from the trail, I felt lighter, ready to cherish the moments of connection that life presents—reminding me that every experience, no matter how fleeting, adds richness to my journey.
The Journey…
As dawn broke behind the overcast sky, I felt anticipation for the hike ahead. It was time for my journey on the Packwood Lake Trail. The air was crisp, with raindrops descending from the towering trees, lightly tapping on my hat, creating a rhythm that matched my cadence. The trail invited me, with its wet earthy aroma mingling with the fresh scent of moss and pine, promising a nourishing escape into Goat Rocks Wilderness. This 8-mile loop, with an elevation gain of ~1,000 feet, was my portal to the enchanting world of deep forests and serene lake views. Despite the overcast skies, I felt excitement as I set foot on the path, knowing that nature’s beauty would reveal itself, even in the damp conditions. Today, it was the small wildlife that joined me, as I walked, chipmunks and squirrels tracked along in the underbrush, feeling like a scene from a Disney movie.
Venturing deeper, the trail transformed with every step. The ground squished beneath my boots, a soft carpet of mud and fallen leaves reminded me of the rain’s contribution in recent days. The forest enveloped me in its embrace, colors intensified by the moisture-rich environment. Lush greens glimmered like emeralds against lighter moss hues, while splashes of orange and red autumn leaves added warmth to the scene. The trail climbed steadily with each upward step, and I felt the cool mist settle around me. The melody of trickling water and rustling leaves created a soothing soundtrack, making me feel as though I was stepping into a sanctuary far removed from everyday life. As with music, my soundtrack shifted as my path transformed from a soft trail, to one intertwined with rocks and roots, giving an indication that my views were also about to change.
About half-way in, I reached Packwood Lake. The sight was lovely—a tranquil scene of water, mirroring the moody sky above, with patches of gray clouds blended with an occasional sun break. Agnes, an enchanting little island, seemingly floating in the middle, added to my curiosity and trail-thought for the day. I paused, letting the moment settle in—the fresh scent of wet earth, the gentle patter of raindrops on the lake’s surface, and a family of river otters drifting by. It was a serene reminder of nature’s beauty, even on a rainy day. As I continued my journey, the lush underbrush and towering evergreens dripped with rain that had collected, creating an immersive experience that felt like walking through a living painting, each brushstroke alive with color and sound.
Gratitude…
As I drove through darkness in the early morning, the damp roads were mine to claim—leading me to my adventure ahead. I was greeted in Packwood by a herd of Elk walking through town, as if they were looking for an open coffee shop—sadly, no coffee for any of us. This morning, my gratitude goes to those cheesy romantic comedies that warm my heart, allowing me to escape reality, even if just for a couple hours. And, like my father in his final months, I have a special affinity for Hallmark films in particular. They transport me to cozy towns with a feel-good vibes that invite me to curl up on a comfy chair. We all know the story, because they’re all the same. They feature a strong, independent woman who is navigating a rough patch in life—perhaps recently lost her job or is being called back to her hometown for a family obligation, most likely during the holiday season. At some point, she finds herself involved in a significant event, like a wedding or a town gathering, where she must confront her past and reevaluate what truly matters in her life.
Enter the charming love interest, a ruggedly handsome local who contrasts sharply with her urban lifestyle. Initially, they clash, driven by assumptions, adding tension to the narrative. However, as the story unfolds, they begin to grow through their interactions, learning important lessons about love and life, but ultimately, their first kiss is not realized, getting interrupted just as they lean in. And when you’re ready to close the book on this story, an avoidable mis-understanding pulls them apart, albeit for a short time, followed by the movie’s emotional moment—often set against a stunning backdrop—where they finally clear up the confusion, confess their feelings and yes, kiss—beautifully tying everything together. I’ve bought-in to this story a thousand times, on a baseball field, at a ranch, on an island, in a castle, basically anywhere, but I willingly fall for it every time—suspending my predictions so not to ruin the heartfelt ending—akin to grand romantic gestures.
Reflections…
Today’s hike felt like a journey through the winding trails of my emotions on a thought that has me perplexed, the paradox of my identity—legally, emotionally. Classified as “single,” at least for tax purposes, I find myself in a strange emotional limbo. The world sees me as a solitary figure, yet deep down, I know I’m anything but alone. Restaurants try to seat me at a “table for one,” or more awkwardly, being forced to ask me if I would like a seat at the bar…with the other singles. I’m a widower, yes, but calling me “single” feels like a label that doesn’t fit. I see couples sharing laughter and warmth at their tables, and I vividly recall sitting at those same tables with Kelly. I can see it, it’s as vivid as when Benjamin Mee, played by Matt Damon in the movie We Bought A Zoo, recalled the 20 seconds of courage he mustered up to introduce himself to his future wife—at that table by the window.
Navigating the path, each step felt like it sunk deeper into this emotional journey. If I’m not fully “single” and not a “couple,” then what am I? I have my people—friends and family who love and support me, even tolerating me at times. But the question lingers: in the emotional sense, who are my people? Grief support groups are often recommended, suggesting I could seek others who share a similar experience. Not dismissing the value of therapy or support; but the emotional connection I seek feels more nuanced and profound than simply sharing loss in common. When the trail opened up to Packwood Lake, and I paused to take a deep breath, soaking in the beauty in front of me.
It’s understandable why many widowers choose independence, finding fulfillment outside a romantic relationship. Still, I feel conflicted. Society paints a picture of independence as the ultimate goal, but what if my heart still yearns for connection? I long for romance—not just in relationships, but in every form. The romance of a baseball game, a wine maker’s story, the simple pleasure of a sea-salt chocolate caramel, the warmth of a cozy coffee shop, the strumming of my guitar, a poem by Keats, and the beauty of nature itself—all speak to the romantic in me. In a recall from my last waypoint, I consider Keats’ words from Bright Star, where he expresses the longing for a steadfast love that transcends time, “I cannot see what the stars are, and I cannot feel what the stars are.”
As I continued along the trail, I accepted that my trail-thought didn’t offer any clear resolution today, and that’s perfectly okay. Sometimes, just sitting with a thought, acknowledging it, and feeling it, is enough. I don’t know what the future holds for me in terms of traditional romance, but if indulging in a romcom helps me navigate my emotions without distorting my reality, then maybe I can embrace that. And if, in the end, romance doesn’t find me in the traditional sense, then I’ll need to lean on gratitude for what I do have, and perhaps filling my life with baseball, wine, chocolate, cooking, romcoms, coffee, guitar, poetry, and the wonders of nature. All hold a lot of beauty, a lot of life. Perhaps that’s the adventure I need right now as my heart is occupied in my “single” existence.
Making my way back down the trail, I felt lighter, as if the weight of this paradox had shifted just a bit in its acknowledgement. I began to appreciate the journey for what it is—complex, beautiful, and uniquely mine. The paradox of feeling “single,” yet emotionally intertwined with the essence of love, is part of my path. I may not have all the answers, but I’m learning to embrace the ambiguity and find joy in the moments that offer connection, however fleeting they may be. In this vast landscape, I’m not just walking the trails; I’m gathering pieces of my heart, shaping them into something new, something worth cherishing. The path continues.
-Ken
- Goat Rock Wilderness, WA
- 46° 36′ 31.644″ -121° 37′ 37.74″
- 8 miles | ~1,000 ft elevation gain | ~4 hours
- Sunrise: 6:52 a.m. 38-45 degrees, Overcast
Musings 