I believe I left off at the end of the Elwha River. After hiking out to the Elwha, we hiked back to the buses and got in. That night we did our usual guided activities. The next day, weather started to derail everything. The original plan was for my group to backpack out and then camp at a Pacific coastal location known as Wedding Rocks, which is near Lake Ozette. However, the weather had changed in the night, and 45 mph winds made it too hazardous to camp there for the night. Trees could fall in the night, and the raw power of the wind would make pitching a tent more difficult. I understood Nature Bridge's reasons for cancelling the outing, and I came to terms with the change. There was, however, a catch. Communications between the groups that backpacked and camped out the night before at approximately the same location were completely in the dark, since connections are spotty in the Olympic National Park. This meant that the previous groups had likely left their gear for us to pick up and use on the coast, as the original plan had specified. So this meant that we had to hike out to the coast, get the gear, and then hike back in, all before a certain turnaround time. At the time, this was an exciting twist, because it meant that I would get to see the coast, which I had hoped to do before. After around an hour bus ride towards the coast, which I spent reading my WISE book, we rendezvoused at the trailhead with the other groups that were coming off of their backpacking night. Fortunately, two of the groups had actually received the instructions to pack up their tents and camping gear, so we would only need to take out one group's gear. After a quick lunch, we got on the trail, and made it to the coast in around an hour, so we had time to explore the beach.
OPI Beach
We then hiked back inland. I think one thing that was excellent about the beach hike was that I was kind of naturally forced to talk with those around me for very extended periods of time. I do not normally have long conversations with my peers the way I did on OPI. As we reached the buses and then drove out of the trailhead, Kai, Jesse, and Margaret engaged me, pushing me outside the shell of my book reading. About half way through the bus ride, Kelsey's phone rings, and the bus slowly pulls over to the side of the road, rolling to a stop. She then announces that we won't be going back to OPI for the night. Dangerous amounts of ice on the roads back to OPI prevented any sort of passage.
My group-mates took the news incredibly well, and our attitude was generally upbeat as we coordinated with the other buses until we found out that Sekiu, an unincorporated town of 27 people, had an available community center to shelter us. Every bus arrived there safely, although our bus had to put on chains after losing traction briefly. You could see the slow signs of relief creep back into everyone: the shoulders slumping down, the faces softening. It was a wonderful transformation. Then came the gentle melody of the piano, in harmony with the young voices singing along. I was content to observe, but I felt the infectious smile. You know, sometimes I forget my age. For all my goings on, I'm just a teenager. I feel like an adult, and I dream and imagine like I'm five. My true age is somewhere in between. It felt right sitting there, and for once, I became who I really am, if that makes any sense.
Looking over to the other side of the room, I saw Ms. Moore standing there, with what looked like tears in her eyes. I don't think I've ever experienced a more beautiful sight than that of the relief on her face. In that moment, I think I understood why OPI is so special, and what it could do/had already done for me. At OPI, there is no escaping the connections and bonds that form from conversations unhindered by a phone to retreat to. You're there for whatever beautiful moment sweeps you up, and you get the privilege of enjoying life without real responsibilities. It feels right.
That night, despite not having sleeping gear, we had playing cards in abundance, so we had a great time. At the final OPI campfire, we were given an opportunity to voice our thoughts on OPI, and I said a few words (not characteristic of me at all, I know). I was sitting there, and then I was up and walking towards the fire, possessed. The gist of it, I think, was that I've been inspired by a relatively small selection of things, and that OPI has opened me up to many different new sources of inspiration. Most importantly, I felt inspired by all of my peers, and the diverse stories and talents they bring to Miramonte. I must admit, I've never had the most school spirit. I find rallies relatively uninspired, and amidst all of the talk of stress at Miramonte, and the toxic environment, I crafted a more critical view of Miramonte than was probably fair. This is my view: Miramonte High School has problems. The extremely academic environment appears to stifle those that possess a different skillset than performing well on standardized tests. The focus on tests does appear to generate a great deal of stress, and that I can say from experience. The salmon coloring scheme likely could also use some work (or not, depending on your view). But I'll say this: I do not think you'll find a more engaged, passionate student body that also possesses a diverse array and number of incredible talents anywhere. My peers, my family, are incredible people, and they each have a beautiful story to tell. I also think a great deal of this "toxic" feeling is just an echo chamber effect, run on high, where one person voicing toxicity spreads the idea to another student, who then adopts this view, and the view spreads nonlinearly. But I digress. In short, this is what I think: I believe in Miramonte High School.