Only an hour and a half from my door lies a wonderful hike up the southern slope of Mount St. Helens. Luke, Bello, and I took off Saturday evening and camped among holiday revelers. Bello literally was among the revelers I discovered when I overheard multiple families say "There's that dog from last night". Luke and I stuck to our own campfire and bottle of wine. The plan was to get up at the crack of dawn and hit the trail but the lulling sound of Yale Lake eased away our concerns and we did not start hiking until noon. But that is not to say we didn't accomplish much. Six hours of hiking meant sore bodies and flat-lined minds. Just enough energy let over for a bubble bath and half of Ponyo before lights out.

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