The problem with summer

And pictures from the North Cascades.

Would you think less of me if I told you I don’t like summer? I never have. I’ve always blamed the weather. It’s too hot, I’d say. Or make a joke about my Pacific Northwest, cloud-ripened complexion. Or I’d give a nod to my contrarian nature. All true! But I think my grumblings are deeper than that.

I guess for most people, summer is all about freedom and exploration. It lets you shed layers and constraints. The pressures of first school, then work, become more forgiving when the days grow longer. It’s a time when you’re expected to go out in the world and do things. But since you’re out there, layer-free and doing things, it’s also revealing. It shows you who you are, or at the very least, who you’re performing to be.

Like last weekend, I found myself walking 30 miles and up 8,000 feet through the North Cascades. In the middle of a 60% grade section of the trail, I was fantasizing about a cold beer and watching Top Gear reruns instead of this self-imposed suffering. It was a tough hike, enough to send me spiraling - did I actually like this hiking thing? Am I a mountain man or just playing at one? Is there even a difference?

Of all the seasons, summer is the most performative. We put ourselves out into the world - European vacations, hiking adventures, festivals - through carefully curated moments. There’s always been an implied pressure to have a well-lived summer. But who defines what exactly that means? And when our identity is constructed through how we spend our free time, summer can feel more like an annual reckoning.

This might not be a problem for people who are generally more well-adjusted or have a stronger sense of self. But if you’re someone who has never quite fit in, never quite clear on an identity, what then? What exactly does it reveal? Expose? I think that’s my real problem with summer. Or problem with myself, I suppose.

Anyway, the hike was beautiful, and here are some of the images I made.

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Another reason I lament summer is because it’s the time of the year when I tend to travel the least - too many crowds, too expensive, too much fuss - unless you’re in the part of the world where it’s actually winter. So as we enter into the colder parts of the year, I’ll be back on the road. Notes from France soon.

Skylar