There's something about that moment - the one where I totally let myself unplug. Literally.
No phone. No computer. No email. No Facebook. No DailyMile. No training charts. No dog schedule. No calendar. No race to the bike after work.
At that moment, it's just about me and TC.
I suppose the "moment" is actually made up of a series of moments, starting with the moment the car is finally packed, the dogs are at their respective grandparents' homes for the weekend and we're finally on the road north.
It's the moment when I realize that I won't have cell coverage - and instead of feeling anxious or worried about it, welcome it with open arms. It's at that moment I put my phone in my car's console and don't care about looking at it until I get back to reality in a few days.
It's the moment when the tent is up, the chairs are out and the only sounds I hear are the frogs singing, the chipmunks scurrying and ducks dunking themselves into the water.
And maybe more than anything, it's the moment when we reach the top of the treeline on our hike - when all I hear is our footsteps, the birds and the wind occasionally blowing by me.
Hiking - even with all of its physical exertion, windy summit and necessary planning - is perhaps the quietest moment of all.
Not much compares to being at the top of the mountain, looking as far as you can see without seeing as much as a hint of the hustle and bustle of every day life.
The moment that we're nestled in a hidden nook shielded from wind to each lunch and look out at the surrounding mountaintops is hard to create at any other time or in any other place.
It's not to say we're alone at the top. There are plenty of folks up there. But even when we pass people along the mountain trail or at the summit, the conversation and exchanges are quiet and calming.
I think we're all there seeking the same thing - a connection with nature, ourselves and each other. Once again, mission accomplished.