I was in SF for work this week, so I stayed out for the weekend to hook up with my old friend, Reef. He and I were housemates in college and then lived together in LA in a house full of maniacs. Back in our early 20s, Reef and I were famous for our road trips: Texas, New Orleans, Utah, Oregon. 

So this weekend we decided to head to Lassen Volcanic National Park. I grabbed him Friday morning and off we shot, over the Golden Gate Bridge and then north. As we drove, we kept the radio at a barely audible level and talked easy. We talked about old friends, Reef’s dad passing, albums, high school crushes, politics, having money, our jobs, our families. The hours melted away and soon we were entering the park.

We headed up Lassen Peak. It was 2000 feet up with 47 switchbacks to the peak. We crossed snow and faced crazy winds. And the top was in a cloud so we couldn’t see a thing. But we headed down happily, hopped back in the car, and drive to our motel.

At the hotel, we spent 30 minutes stretching before heading out to a bar. We each got a burger and a beer, and then we split a second beer. 

The next day we got up early, had cheap motel coffee, gobbled down trail snacks for breakfast, and headed off into the bright morning. That felt most like old times. Scrappy, unstructured, spontaneous, unrushed.

We went back to the park and did two shorter hikes, Kings Creek Falls and Bumpas Hell.

And it was on the way back to the car when Reef dropped my second favorite quote of the trip. He said:

“Back in my 20s, I never even thought I’d make it to being middle aged. I certainly didn’t think I’d still be out doing cool stuff.”

We hiked in silence for a while. I thought about us back in our early 20s, when it was inconceivable that we’d ever plug into the regular world. The regular world was something we rejected with derision. All those drone-like people letting their lives pass by without living. We felt so above all of it back then.

We drove back south, calling a few friends, listening to music, and Reef dozing a bit. Then back in SF we went to the Giants game. Then a bar for a beer that honestly felt more obligatory than desired. Neither of us even finished.

Then it was Sunday and we were on the corner of California and Laurel. We shared a long hug and I-love-you-mans. I took a cab to the airport; Reef headed to grab breakfast. Both of us headed into another bright morning.

Oh, and if you’re thinking that we’ve matured and grown as people – let me share my first favorite quote from the weekend. We were on one of the hikes when Reef called out…

“Hey, take a photo with this rock as my dick!”

Cackling like lunatics, we sent the image to practically everyone we knew once we had cell service.