Doesn't it seem like Henry David Thoreau was manning a gatling gun when it came to quotes?

Hey internet and friends and whoever.
So boring background shit (kids: ear muffs). I'm on a roadtrip. And here's the post from the first day. I started out going to Whole Foods in boulder, colorado at 8am and got some extra food, some coffee, and some stuff from the hot bar. Really all you need to know is that I got some creme brulee french toast which was pretty damn good.

My first stop was at Rocky Mountain National Park. Here's the declassified shit. It was a hike through snow covered woods that eventually opened up into a snowy ravine and two alpine lakes. The two end destinations were Loch Lake and Mill Lake. It was about three miles to both Loch Lake and Mill Lake and I didn't have any water. The trail was covered in snow and overall, the environment was quite quiet and lovely.
Anyways, the trail was snowpacked, the woods were calming, and just before Loch Lake, I met a group of hikers. I asked them where I was, they told me, and then they shared their water with me. I still have the Gatorade bottle. They told me to go to Mill Lake (sidenote: so yea, I name-dropped Mill Lake earlier in this post, but yea, I had no clue about it til they told me) which was a little ways back and then up some other route. I told them I would give it a shot and then continued on to Loch Lake. After taking in Loch Lake (snowy and windy at high altitude) I had decided to return to the parking lot and skip Mill Lake when I saw a pair of snowshoers ( a man and a wife) whom I had passed on the way up. On the way up I had made a haiku for them. It went something like
A snowshoers joy
Following the distant cry
(and i forget the 3rd line)
Whatever.
They inspired me to turn around. At one of the trail intersections, they headed up towards Loch Lake and I went to Mill Lake. I got up there and I was by myself and it was pretty awesome. The lake was windswept and frozen with mountains towering around on all sides. After a brief debate, I doddled out onto the ice. I mean, the verb doddled works perfectly here. Imagine you are a forest ranger, and then imagine a hiker who is by themselves, on a snowy lake, at high altitude, without any water, and without any real mountain safety training. Forest rangers are are taking bets on my survival and bears are just like fuck, this is too easy.
Anyways, it was actually probably pretty safe.
So, I made my way to some rock outcropping in the middle of the lake and as I was standing on the rock, I made the decision to piss into the wind. Which i did. At first, the wind blew my piss to my right so I thought if I truly meant it, I would redirect my flow. I went for it and got some piss on my awesome $125 pair of hiking boots that my parents got for me from REI. Anyways, I was over it and therefore redirected my piss so that the wind blew it to my right again.
Other highlights of my hike.
I rubbed my face in a young pine tree. And I'm not kidding man.
Took one shit in the woods.
At this time, I'm not authorized to officially comment on the number of pisses but I'm told it was somewhere in the neighborhood of 2 to 3. Probably more.
So, I got on the road to Billings, Montana (where my grandpa lives) around 12:30. The one main event that took place after my departure from Rocky Mountain National Park was that after leaving Casper, Wyoming ( considered by many notable Winegardners to be the halfway point between Boulder and Billings) around 6:45 pm, I began to notice the variety of clouds in the sky along with the impressive palate of colors that was present (due to the setting sun). Anyways, sometime before Buffalo, Wyoming, there were some dark, low, overhanging clouds that I remember thinking were pretty. Those clouds turned out to be real sonofabitches (ha! carl, flight of passage). they harbored a blizzard that extended all the way from the north of Casper well into Montana. In conclusion, I fought a losing battle to stay awake throughout the rest of the night as the blizzard raged on. I ended up pulling over at the Garryowen exit in Montana sometime around 4 am and in one brilliant, flawless stroke of genius decided to turn my engine off while keeping the heat on. Logically, my car battery died around 4:20 am (or maybe thats the time i want it to be in my mind). Around 4:45, one of the thousands of good-natured Montanans helped me jump start my car and I was off. I arrived in Billings at 6:30am and that was that.