That’s what Stehekin means. Tribes in the area previously used this valley to get through the mountains and trade with others in the north. I hope it will be my way through as well. I cried as the ferry pulled away from the Chelan dock on that morning 3 days ago. The sky was so clear and blue, the sun was shining, and the cold wind came down from the lake, whipping my hair around and ensuring that the passengers who chose to sit on the outer deck were all still wearing jackets. It was an early spring morning in the North Cascade Mountains, after all. The waters of Lake Chelan stretched before me, promising snow-capped mountain peaks at its head. It was a four hour ferry ride uplake to arrive in Stehekin, a small tourist town only accessible by boat, seaplane, or on foot.
It was finally happening. The very last thing I had to do was get on that boat and then I would be free. That was what had been going through my head for months as I planned my move out here. So there, out in the sunshine on the water, heading towards the unknown, I finally got my moment. The moment I had been dreaming of for so long, that I have needed my entire life, where I finally have peace and see beauty all around me and I have nothing to do but shed tears because I am feeling everything all at once: everything that I’ve left behind, everyone I’ve loved and hated, all the past that I’m trying to shed, as well as all the things I’m headed towards, all the possibilities and goals I suddenly have ever since I began following my heart.
Good thing there was such a strong wind. I sat there in the middle of a dozen people as tears streamed down my face and nobody noticed. It was liberating. And I had my glorious moment.
Lake Chelan, Washington, ~2011
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