It's the experience of waking up in a 100-year-old fire lookout nestled deep in the wilderness. You're surrounded by a sea of old-growth pine, with jagged peaks stretching far into the distance, rippling like waves in a vast ocean.

The smell of evergreen permeates the structure as you open the door to look at the view. Your friends are here, sleepy-eyed, and together, you share in the collective awe of sitting up in your sleeping bag to witness the first light of the sunrise illuminating the horizon.

The morning is slow. Coffee is made in a metal pot over a butane stove. Birds sing as you eat breakfast, feet dangling above the 50-foot drop to the valley floor below. As the day begins, the sun hits you for the first time, and you take off your jacket and let it warm you.

There is a tarn a couple of miles below the lookout, and everyone agrees that a mid-morning swim is in order. You pack your things, tidy up, and descend, looking back fondly at the little shack full of memories.