Babysitting the Bad Boy's Brother

I was too edgy to be a Girl Scout

Hey, guys. Stuff has been kind of rough these past few weeks... I don't know if any of you have heard about the Eagle Creek fire on the Columbia River Gorge or not, but it is really tragic for me, my family, and all of the people of Portland. A week ago, we all sat together watching the news and wept. The whole city is mourning the loss of our beloved gorge.

(It was a while ago when i wrote that. I'm just now getting around to publishing. Don't hate me.)

I'll be the first to admit that we all took the gorge for granted, as no one would have ever thought that this magical place would soon disappear in front of our eyes.

Many tears have been shed over this monstrous forest fire. This isn't just sagebrush burning, this beautiful forest is hundreds of years old. There is so much history in this part of Oregon, so many hidden treasures... My friends and I have hiked random trails in the gorge and have found some of the most magnificent waterfalls, and the Gorge has given me some of my best memories.

I am deeply saddened that I didn't explore more of the gorge, and I hope l can explore what's left of it when this horrible fire is over. My future kids will never experience the beautiful place like we did, and none of us got a proper goodbye

My home is burning, and it breaks my heart.

To the group of teenagers that did this, thank you for your careless, stupid actions that have ruined a beautiful part of our state. To the Columbia River Gorge, thank you for giving me some of the prettiest sights, and the best memories with some great friends. I truly hope that this fire can be made positive and after the next few hundred years of restoration, there will be new adventures for that generation to enjoy.

Thankfully the amazing volunteers fighting this fire have managed to save the Multnomah Falls Lodge, an extremely old landmark in the Gorge.

I was originally going to post a different chapter today, but I have decided to write a new one as a tribute to the Columbia River Gorge. I've also attached pictures! (Every picture featured in this chapter is a picture I have taken!)

...

"Can we take a break?"

"No?"

"Claire, come on! I have given every ounce of my being and pushed further than I thought I could go. My soul has been tied to this mountain and with it my life. I will climb this treacherous terrain, and I will die here, alone amongst the wilderness."

"Would you shut up?" I say, "We've only been hiking for ten minutes."

Lindsey just rolls her eyes sardonically. "You're like negative ten fun."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

The crunch of the ground under our sneakers creates a beat that I subdivide in my head. I don't think about counting, it just kind of happens. One and two and three and four and one and two....

Everything in the world has a tempo, but everything moves to different beats. There is always a new rhythm to identify, a reason to keep my internal clock ticking. I don't mind the constant clutter in my mind created by counting; I like the subdivision. I like the tempo my breathing makes before I fall asleep. I like the metronome created by the clock ticking in my first-period class. The consistency of beats in the world keeps me sane. It gives me something to tune into, something to focus on, something to rely on. I'm always listening, always counting.