"Let It Go" as rewritten by Samantha, The Journey Continues 2015

"The branches sway on the mountains today

Not a human to be found

Two hours into my solo

And I'm starting to find me.

The river flowing like the blood that's in my veins

I don't know how to feel

Will I be the same?

Just keep it in

Don't let them see

Be the person I think I'm s'posed to be.

Conceal, don't feel

Don't let it show

But why not grow?

Let it go, let it go

Learn the power that I wield

Let it go, let it go

What's the point of a useless shield?

I don't care what the world might want

Let the river flow

The silence echos through the trees into the ground

My soul is spiraling in trees and bushes all around

And now I'm seeing that whole world from where I stand

I'm never going back

This is who I am

Let it go, let it go

And I'll rise like the break of dawn

Let it go, let it go

My fear is finally gone

I don't care what the world might want

Let the river flow

This solo ain't too bad after all."

Up for the Sunrise: The Journey Continues 2014

(The Journey Continues is our 1-week high school aged trip)

After some days in the wilderness, priorities and pleasures will have shifted from normal day-to-day life. That must be part of the explanation for why a group of teenagers and their two leaders would agree to get up at five in the morning and hike through the chill to watch the sunrise from a mountaintop.

It was our last morning together. I was pleasantly surprised that everyone was up for such an adventure after all the uphill hiking we’d just done. But off we went through the slowly brightening dawn up to the summit of Blue Mountain, in the NE Olympics, and found an eastward-looking viewpoint that was sheltered from the bitterly cold wind. It was a clear morning but for some haze hanging in the Puget Basin in front of us. Our timing was perfect. After sitting quietly together for about ten minutes, all of a sudden a brightness emerged through the haze, a startling pink. As it rose and grew, it outlined the ridgeline of the Cascades, previously invisible in the hazy sky. It was one of the most interesting sunrises I’ve seen, and we all sat ooh-ing and ahh-ing for a while before getting up to take some pictures.

As I reflect on this experience, I wonder: what were we saying, with our bodies and souls, when we chose to hike up there to watch the sunrise? The sunrise is yet another thing usually taken for granted, rarely given much consideration. But to all of us it seemed the fitting thing to do. Watching the sunrise gives me a sense of looking into the future, into possibilities. I often have an instinct to see it when some transition or transformation has been afoot, when things feel new and fresh. And even moreso, to see it from the peak of a mountain gives a sense of incredible expansiveness. On our last day together, as we looked ahead to life back home, the sunrise lent us a sense of fullness, completion, and a window into what was coming next.

In a way, it’s reassuring to know that there’s such a rich experience to be had in simply taking in this basic (though from another perspective, miraculous) everyday occurrence. So I suppose that one thing we were saying was that we wanted to show up for the simple but dramatic events woven into our days and really take them in. That we wanted to seize the moment and come away with a unique memory and story to tell. What else is there? 

Submitted by Cameron Withey, guide, The Journey Continues 2014

The Journey Continues: We Spiraled In

We spiraled in:

Into the labyrinth at base camp in Bothell and across the Sound on the ferry,
Into the mountains, looking out across Olympic ranges from Deer Ridge, then down
Into the valley of the Greywolf River at its three forks,
Got into some wild berries, intimate councils, and giggly games of psychiatrist,
Hiking through old-growth forests, the river our constant companion, and up
Into subalpine meadows of lupine and indian paintbrush and waddling marmots,
And finally into the basin of Cedar Lake,
Into solo time.

And there we sat in the still mountain air
The silence broken by the occasional piercing whistle of a marmot.

The three participants sat on their own in quiet reflection
Perhaps soaking up the life of the place around them
Perhaps learning how to rest more deeply in themselves
And the fog rolled in thick. It mad a sort of visual silence, a cool unknown
And then rolled through as clouds swirled above the rocky ridge towering over us,
Letting the sun break out here and there in bursts of glorious warmth.

Hours passed and we brought our brave journeyers back together around a little fire
And they added a little glow as they spoke their first words emanating out of their quiet solitude.


And then we began spiraling back out:

First bites of post-quest food, almond butter noodles,
Hiking down, more games and laughter,
Hiking up (oh how we beasted that hill),
And down again out of the mountains and across the Sound
We sang our song to family and friends, and walked
Out of the labyrinth and back into our lives, refreshed, re-inspired, ready. 

By Cameron Whithey
Photos by Emily Pease

The Journey Continues 2011

For one week, we traveled in our tribe of six. Reconnecting with parts of ourselves we had discovered out in the woods and within our hearts. Below are a few words from each participant about their experience.


In the words of Mara

There is a Hunger in my Ocean,
as the swells stretch for shore.

There is a Hunger in my Mountain,
where the peaks silently soar.

There is a Hunger in my Flower,
dried, aching for more.

So sail me to freedom,
I'll let my Hunger Roar.

There is a Hunger in my Dagger,
see the holes it bore?

There is a Hunger in my People,
who, once rich, are now poor.

There is a Hunger in my Soul,
it's searching for a door.

So sail with me to freedom,
we'll let our Hunger Roar.

-Mara, 16





"The Journey is a Privilege, especially alone & together."

- Micah, 17



Jonah tells about a favorite moment

"We were hiking up to Desolation Lookout, trudging up the 4.25 miles of steep switchbacks. The sun right above our heads, we kept cool in the shadows of the trees. Our eyes were focused on the rocky path beneath our feet, one foot in front of the other. We were hiking for quite some time when Micah, our leader for the day, said "Stop! Deer!" Right in front of him, so close he could reach out and touch her, was a doe. She just stood there for a few moments on the trail looking directly at us as if she were surprised to see us there. Then, slowly, she walked into the trees. It was an amazing experience to be so close to something so rooted in nature. It made my day."

- Jonah, 14



Tristan Shares his Gratitude

As this week-long Journey begins to end, and I sit in the car on the long drive back to Songaia, my mind and heart are stretching as they try to hold onto all that has happened, while becoming excited for the future, and most importantly, trying to remain in the now.

The simplest acts of walking, talking, eating and sleeping have created so many good things for me. My five new friends I never knew existed, have given me so much of themselves that I have been able to look myself in the eye and search for what I can give back.

Walking through the columns of the forest, standing high in the wind looking all around at snow peaked mountains, swimming in the crisp, clear lake, surrendering to the cold.

I was given time to feel comfortable with myself and then I felt at home in Nature. By having the space and time to de-clutter my mind, I was able to turn my attention to all the little things around me and to begin to see things as they really are and not in the same mundane way I was used to.

Suddenly, I found great joy in looking at the smallest things; the body of a mosquito perched on my arm, a bundle of needles from some great tree . . . for that, I am grateful.
- Tristan, 15



"The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep."

- Rumi