Day 6: Musical Magic

So the professors have this rule that we can't listen to our headphones because they don't want us being antisocial. They're encouraging friendship. But today I broke the rule, and it was magical. No offense to my campmates, but sometimes music trumps discussion. I dare one of you to listen to Glósóli by Sigur Rós while staring at mountains and not feel like you're witnessing a miracle. It's impossible. The all-encompassing mental peace harvested by such a beautiful song is the perfect compliment to the tangible magnificence and peace of these South Dakota Black Hills. You wouldn't think there's such thing as tangible peace, but I hope someday you'll experience what I mean-- to me, the mountains are peace; nothing compares to the feeling of standing thousands of feet above sea level after a long hike and looking over an entire universe beneath your feet. The miracle of mountains is that they're so clearly intimidating and humbling in their magnificent appearance, yet they inspire such a gentle and peaceful feeling. I feel huge and insignificantly tiny all at the same time. 

If you know anything about me, you'd know that I have a deep appreciation and love for music, and my selection on this trip consists mainly of instrumental. Below is the playlist that I've had on repeat throughout the journey. Music somehow has a way of bringing people together even if they're miles apart, living in different worlds, surrounded by different people. That's probably the hippiest thing I've said so far, but I think anyone who loves music would agree with me. I think if you listen to any of these songs, you'll have a better insight to my trip than anything I can provide through writing. Just close your eyes and let yourself appreciate all the sounds. Then try to imagine climbing the twists of the snake-like mountain road in a van full of college kids that haven't showered for three or four days. It sounds miserable, but it's actually quite lovely. (To my dad: I expect you to listen to these! And I want to hear your feedback. Because you always make me listen to your music suggestions, so now it goes both ways! Try to keep an open mind... Sigur Rós is an Icelandic band, and it's quite different from your Allman Brothers and Grateful Dead.)

Hoppippolla - Sigur Rós

Starálfur - Sigur Rós

Glósóli - Sigur Rós

Saeglopur - Sigur Rós

Seasons I, II, and III - Mae

A Quiet (E)vening - Mae

Sleep Well - Mae

January White - Sleeping At Last

Snow - Sleeping At Last 

The Ash Is In Our Clothes - Sleeping At Last

Pacific - Sleeping At Last

Atlantic - Sleeping At Last

Learning Curve - Sleeping At Last

Window - The Album Leaf

Over the Pond - The Album Leaf 

Moonlight (Instrumental) - David Vandervelde

Buckets of Rain - Redbird

Redbird Waltz - Redbird

Under My Skin - Peter Bradley Adams

Song for Viola - Peter Bradley Adams 

Now that I've rambled forever about mountains and music, I guess I'll talk about what we actually did today. There's not much to it. We woke up, went to the Homestake gold mine in Lead, South Dakota, toured it, learned about the geology of mining, then took a scenic highway back to our campsite around 5 o'clock or so. I only got a few pictures of the highway, but here's a little idea: 

Once back at the campsite (for our last night here... So sad), we each took advantage of our last opportunity to shower. I finally got to talk to my parents for a little bit and realized that I miss them more than usual. I'm old enough now to go weeks without seeing them and still feel okay. But, I just know that they would love it out here, and I wish they were with me. My dad especially has a curious spirit like me, and we both love exploring new places. He'd be in heaven out here. I keep thinking about the week we spent in Montana together. We went on a 5 day pack trip with a bunch of horses and strangers in the wilderness, then we toured a few college campuses in the area. I'd love to do it again someday. 

After showering, we enjoyed our last night in the luxurious campsite together around the fire, laughing, singing, and telling our stories. I think the nights we spend staying up late by the fire will be my most cherished memories of the trip, and I hope the friendships we're developing here will last past just these three short (but seemingly infinite) weeks. As I sat around the fire, hearing everyone talk about their lives and watching them all goof off together, I relished in the moment. I know that a night like that is one of a kind, and I may only get to enjoy a few like it in my entire life-- we're just a bunch of kids with the whole world I'm front of us, taking time out of our hectic, evolving lives to sit by a campfire to share a few hours of our precious youth together. We could be anywhere, but we chose to be here, and I knew that in that moment, there was nowhere else I'd rather be.