“Backpacking Beats”: Poems by Lance Garland


April 13, 2021

In honor of National Poetry Month, we’re featuring a different look and feel for our blog. Lance Garland has shared the following poems from two trips to North Cascades National Park.

About Lance:
Lance Garland spends his days fighting fire in Seattle, climbing the mountains of the Pacific Northwest, and sailing the Salish Sea. In the moments between the action, he’s written for Outside, Backpacker, Hidden Compass, and Mountaineer. His essay ‘Brothers in Arms’ is featured in the 2020 anthology EARTHLY LOVE, and his poetry chapbook, SAILBOAT LIVING, was an honorable mention for the 2016 Homebound Poetry Prize.

Lance and Jen at a fire lookout


North Cascades National Park, July 14th-July 17th, 2015

Such places (where the Scripture is observed) however wretched they may be, will be loved as though they were famous memorial parks and monuments, to which countless pilgrims and sages will come (to Desolation Peak!) to offer homage and speeches and dedications. And over them the angels of the unborn and the angels of the dead will hover like a cloud.”

– Jack Kerouac, Desolation Journal

Crew:

  • Lance the Camp Leader
  • Jen the Lady of the Lake

Reading List:

  • Lance: Desolation Angels by Jack Kerouac
  • Jen: Lonesome Traveller by Jack Kerouac

Cat Island

12-mile canoe trip across
Ross Lake.
Past cliff-side waterfalls
and Lion-faced mountains.
Falls named
Lion’s Roar
by the adventurers two.
Sooner than expected
arrive at Cat Island dock.
Strip down to skivvies,
Photo-op jump off
in meadows of minnows
followed by cannonball fun.
I set up the tent
as Jen floats adrift
on a pink blowup
magic carpet.
As the tent comes erect
I now have a guest
and I dance with a
deer as she 360
pirouettes.

Mountaineering stove,
sausages, red beans
with rice,
lavender chamomile tea,
swigs of Jameson
and sunset yoga at
dock’s end
under violet and
red clouds
blushing from
ocher to sun-yellow.

This day unblooms,
returns to peace
as the white-capped
waters lull themselves
softly to a lilting
sleep.

Head to head
in sleeping bags
on rocking dock
we fall to dreams
as stars alight
like stories
from ideas, Jen’s
lullaby this night.

Awake to sky, cloudless,
alive, a broad swath of
Milky dust: our
Galaxy’s might.

Desolation Peak

Jen looks out at a lake

As all adventurous people do
I compete with you,
Jack.

You: a merchant marine.
I: a Navy sailor.

You: a fire lookout.
I: a firefighter.

You: put up with longsuffering
Publishing.
I: self-publish.

You have become a legend.
I love you like a father,
like my father.

You: see the “V” between Hozomeen’s
Peaks as the Void.
I: see the “V” as victory.

The fire lookout in your
stead, Michael, is like
you, but aged in Samsara
and young from those lessons.

For some, Jack, life doesn’t
decay you, but rebirths you.

Michael, like you, and
Michael, like me,
an Army Veteran, Montana
wildland firefighter, writer,
and adventurer of like.

It seems we all meet
together here,
linked by love
at this mountaintop
Buddhist hut, pagoda point.

Between void and victory.

Between decay and rebirth.

I commune with you, Jack,
and you commune with me.
Michael, the avatar between.
Jen, the orator of your visions.
Our fellow hikers
orators, your children.

All on this pilgrimage
even you
toward a clearer
vision of ourselves,
of truth.

And in Epic Kerouacian
drama, my poem is
finished after I read
aloud the first chapter
of Angels, when I hear
your whisper over
my shoulder, turn to
see a foot high dust devil
rip toward us, touch us,
and grasp the flotsam
at our feet, Jen’s stuff
sack, rip it out and off
the cliff toward your
void, high into the
stratosphere, a kite hang
gliding beyond to the
darkness, and I feel
your presence, your touch.

Jack, I swear.

Base Camp

On a cliff beside
Jack mountain and
Nohokomeen glacier
we sit as cloud spectators
watching Michelangelo’s
“Creation of Adam” hands
come alive in cumulous
migrations across
the American Alps.
Michael’s buck appears
curious, unflinchingly
standing his ground,
his antlers still fuzzy
with season’s youth,
a mountain spirit Buddha.
A wilderness wind
sets its fingerprints
across the face of the lake,
an elemental embrace
reflected below like a
second sky,
a unique balance
of equilibrium
and the loss thereof.
Above and above,
with us suspended
between
on a floating island
of blue and of green
a poet on a hill
refreshed and serene.

Rainbow Point

All night rain storm
on Desolation Peak
just like Michael said,
“Makes for lack of sleep.”

Hiking down
soaking wet

jump into canoe
now’s a sunny day
and blue

row past Cat
and Ten Mile Island

swim with the sugar
creek gang of boys
at Devil’s Junction,
a Lord of the Flies
rehearsal
an unsupervised
aquatic function.

On to Devil’s Creek
After a picnic on their dock

Below an Indiana Jones
bridge
through canyons
of towering rock

As the walls close in tight
And a cold wind starts
Brewing
We find a waterfall
I rock climb up
And jump in

Through the afternoon of
Whitecaps
A brisk northerly is blowing
We make it to
Rainbow Point
Relax, sink our
Feet in.
Read Kerouac at
the junction between
Hozomeen and Sourdough
Eat dinner amongst
The deer
Watch ducklings
Follow where ‘ere
Mother may go.

“Enlightenment via Abandonment”
It’s the only truth we know.

Jen by a suspension bridge

To Hozomeen

North Cascades National Park: July 12-15th 2016, 35 mile backpacking trip from Highway 20 to Canada

Crew:

  • Buoy the Scout Master (five-month-old golden retriever puppy)
  • Lance the Camp Leader
  • Jen the Lady of the Lake

Reading List:

  • Lance:
    • The Backcountry by Gary Snyder
    • The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac
  • Jen:
    • Ax Handles by Gary Snyder
    • The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac

East Bank Trail to May Creek

Past purple mountains
maimed by fire
wild, dry
to forests of marching
pine
through groves
grown green
from
summer’s spring
of rain
no trail ever
the same
more than a day

flocks of
mosquitoes
two gringos reminisce
of recent Patagonia
jagged tooth of Fitz Roy
toward the
blue wild Paine
steel blue Ross
comes flickering
into view
past Roland Creek
then on to May
campsite
lean-to
two tents stake
my boy Buoy’s
first backpacking trip
with May Creek’s
humming
waterfall strumming
fishermen
fisherwomen
buzzing with
rainbow trout hunting
betwixt powder sugared peaks
thankful wildfire
reprieve
remove the stress
of the city
you’ll find two beats
and a bop
on May Creek dock

clouds as dancers

clouds six shades of sunset

sunset clouds the
shape of
time

reflecting ephemeral
life
clouds life-like
shape-shifting
always changing
never
ever

the
same
clouds like
the lightness
the heaviness
slowness
of being
clouds
like freeing
my mind
from the meaning
clouds like
believing
always
coming
always
leaving

Backcountry

Cities need human power to function.
No wonder we always feel
depleted.

Mountains, Earth, Sea,
don’t need me.
No wonder that’s where
I feel free.

May Creek Morning

Sunrise skies
atop dock
yoga stretching
cloudy skies patch
to blue
as my meditation
vacillates, my sitting
body the buoy
mind the fire-lookout
to a Wednesday morning
campfire
Gary Snyder-
‘tip head down            to shield face
with hat brim               from the heat”

pack up camp
Forward!

May Creek to Lightning Creek

Jen watches a sunset

Through day darkened
canopies of
Evergreens and
Lodge-pole Pine
sunlight shimmers
to lakeside paths
granite ridges
bouldered walls
over Devil’s Creek
by way of
suspension bridge
a young girl leaps
some thirty feet
to frigid face-plant
below, and yet
unscathed is she
further on, the trail
gets hotter
down dusty slopes
we slide to dive
pull Buoy in
he’s out to climb
backward with his
butt uphill
some water dog
we’re swimming still
deep through the forest
more miles pass
Lightening Creek’s
suspension bridge
the dust is thin
baked sweet by sun
the faintest must, inhaled
powered-sugar earth
another camp
another dock
take pictures jumping
Jen’s climbing logs
a few more dives
into the sun
anointed by this
glacier run
this sacred water
this sacred space
the sunset’s pink
paints Jack Mountain’s face
half luna rising
that dear old friend
a vision of Torres Del Paine
across the lake
in another sacred space
in another sacred time
I sat on Lago Azul
an exact reflection of
this page
this location
vantage point
line of sight
Patagonia is a cathedral
North Cascades is but the same
and this pilgrim sings
their praises
prayers of thanks
I sing your names

Lightning Creek To
  Willow Lake to
    Hozomeen

Steep upward climb
ride along Starvation                                     /\    Spratt Mountain
Ridge with Lightning
Creek below
onward to Deer Lick
and an ancient
miner’s camp
break upon its doorstep
before creek
hopping as
mossy carpeted trails
lead us deeper
into the magic
groves of green
spirits, vibrating
verdant canopies
on to dark ravines
where shadows
dance with swaying
trees that creek
us sing us on
to Nightmare Camp
no place to stay
for folks like us
continue on to
waterfalls terraced
through winding
ascents to Willow                                        ^/\\^    Castle Peak
Lake where Buoy
runs and frolics                                             ^/\       Joker Mountain
like a wild cub
the bugs they bite
on our skin
they delight
the last few
miles a rugged
trek, with cuts
and scrapes upon
our legs, bees and bugs
and sharper plants
we see at last
that storied peak
Hozomeen                                           /\ /\
            Hozomeen                                         /      \  \  Mount Hozomeen
“The most beautiful
mountain I’ve ever seen!” –Kerouac
from Jack’s perspective
a void
within
from our standpoint
now a W
a win
I guess it changes
from where you
stand
keep moving
find
a better land
a better place
a better time
a better space
in your own mind

Oh Hozomeen
Oh what a gift

this pilgrimage
this turn
within

Dusk at Hozomeen 

Best campfire
of the trip
warms my head-lamped face
as the dark
takes hold of
the sky
a pack of wolves howls
across the
cavernous lake
turn to night
of thunder
of lightning
torrents of rain
Hozomeen’s glory
your void is our wonderment
our awe

Hozomeen Baptismal HaikusLance rests next to a fallen tree

At dawn, Skinny-dip
Hozomeen, drizzle rain, voices
echo across lake

light frozen embrace
our skin floating below peaks
Immersed in this

spiritual place
anointed and baptized by
this sacred water

naked in the heart
of ancients, naked in the
womb of our mother

Hozomeen Lake Morning

The frothy lips
of the lake
from alpine
morning fog
the song of
Loons around
lake’s edge
their high-pitch
tonguey trill
spirits of clouds
rising from the tops
of trees to
enlightenment
As Hozomeen’s peaks
like teeth
chew through the thick
cloud covering
to smile for us

Here at Hozomeen
A vision
across the lake
in this sacred space
in this sacred time

Hozomeen is a cathedral
and this pilgrim sings
Its praises
prayers of thanks
I sing your name


Thank you, Lance, for sharing your poetry and one-of-a-kind perspective with us!