3x5

"Maybe I will tell you all about it when I'm
in the mood to lose my way
but let me say
You should have seen that sunrise with your own eyes
it brought me back to life
You'll be with me next time I go outside
NO more 3x5's "

--John Mayer: 3x5

Today I sat at a stop sign (in my car) in the thriving, tiny town of Buckley while crooning Alyson Krauss and scanning the busy intersection for my opening to enter traffic.

He was truding along the shoulder of 410 with his thumb protruding from a clenched and dirty fist. A blue hiker's pack half the size of his body sat high on his back. An ice pick was strapped to the front of the pack and the glistening blade of a hatchet reflected the soon to be setting sun.

I was excited to pick him up. Only twice before have I had the opportunity to give a ride to a stranger. Once to a skater whose truck ran out of gas -- and once to a young lady on the side of the freeway at 2 am. The skater was only too happy to not have to ride his short board next to cars flying by him at 80 mph. The girl was scared of me and refused my help.

"I can get you to Enumclaw!" I yelled out my window as a I slowed to match his barely-walking pace. He threw up his hands in disbelief and shouted his thanks when I pulled over in front of him. He was beside himself with excitement and it took him three tries before he finally managed to successfully throw his pack through the back door and onto the backseat. I couldn't help but chuckle as he leapt into the passenger side and found himself tangled in my automatic seatbelt. His left boot found it's way to crush the pages of the Bible on my car floor and I smiled knowing that Jesus didn't mind. He'd been backpacking -- hiking for five days in the mountains and had made it to 7900 feet. He was so excited about the rolls of film in his pack -- he had caught the orange glow of sunset on mt. rainier last night -- along with Galen's beautiful cloud formation.

"I'm tired, man. I'm tired. I stink bad, huh? Most rest I've had is two hours sleep at a time...You know going that long without sleep -- that's kind of a high by itself. My mistake was stopping in...last nite. I had 9 beers coming down the trail yesterday, you know how that goes. You're young, huh? You look like a big partyer, huh? The colors, man! You just have to go up these mountains and see the colors. Every hue from this glaring sunlight we have here to orange and purple -- i can't even explain it, man. Wow. That's another high. A natural high. Take it from me, friend, well -- all us hikers will tell you the same thing -- you have to get out there for yourself. See these things for yourself. Yeah, I'm crazy. And I'm tired. High too."

For fifteen minutes we chatted happily about my size (he noticed with interest the small stretch marks on my "large" arms), clear-cut logging, and how much weed he had just smoked. I dropped him off in front of a quiet set of apartments and wished him a blessing, so happy to have known him if just for a quarter of an hour. We shook hands and exchanged names -- I don't remember his. He shouldered his pack and watched me drive away -- nice guy that.

I hope I can see that mountain too -- in as many colors when it seems so big, so close that I am part of it. Falling into its tangelo glaciers and hurtling toward its rose purple peak.