24 Hours (the morning)

5:55 AM

I always set my alarm to five minutes before I have to be awake. I roll over slowly onto my back, hazy as usual about where I am today and what I'm doing. A quick spasm in my left leg reminds me of exactly what I'm doing. Sun streams in from the open windows at the top of the gym, making the yellow walls burn with a warm glow. The air in the room is hot and heavy, dense from the lack of circulation and large number of bodies. I lay for some minutes in silence, enjoying the solitude of wakefulness surrounded by sleep.

At exactly 6:02 AM, another member of the corps taps me on the shoulder. "You're already up? Good- wake the others on that side, I'll get this side. Outside and ready to go in 8 minutes." I quickly roll my sleeping bag and place my belongings on the side of the bleachers, ready to be moved out at a moment's notice. I put on the day's attire- cotton shorts, an old t-shirt, fresh socks, sneakers, a faded cap- and then slip through the far side of the gym. I slowly find the crew, including Froggy, Elk, Red, Flamin' A, wait a minute to make sure they're all up, then head out the gym doors to the day.

I lean against the gym's outer brick wall for a moment, taking in our new surroundings. In a minute or two, I'm joined by others; we exchange bleary-eyed nods. The breeze is already warm on my face, even though the sun is just peaking over the mountains to the east. Directly below us is a turf field (seems like it's in beautiful condition) with other sport facilities spread around the complex we're in. In the distance we see the giant boulder that gives this town it's namesake, similarly glowing a vibrant tan and green in the summer sunlight. The sky is completely clear and an overwhelming blue. The scene makes me smile despite the soreness of my legs and the dried blood still on my face.

Eventually we're all there, and the guy who first woke me up arrives. "A mile that way, uphill. Only the main tower, then back for breakfast. Stretch and run begins in forty-five minutes. Let's go." We jog up the mountain at an easy gait, letting our lungs adjust to this new altitude. In about ten minutes we're at the tower, still not having said a word, and we erect it with a speed that belies the end of the season. We've put it up and taken it down too many times to count by now. Despite the pain of the early wake-up, the brisk jogs, and the monotony of our job, I know I picked the right crew to be on for the summer. I also know I'll miss it when it's over.

Once the tower is up, we realize we have a few extra minutes so a couple of us head to the top. The climb gives us another 30 feet of view at what is already the top of a mountain, and we can see for miles upon miles in every direction. The sun is rising quickly, illuminating more of the vast range of Rockies around us. There still isn't a cloud to be found in any direction.

Several moments pass ... faint bird calls. Warm breeze.

Blue sky.

Our vision is finally broken by the quick check of a watch. "All right ... breakfast time. Let's get back." We descend the tower carefully, regroup, and enjoy the easier jog downhill to breakfast. In another ten minutes I'm twenty people back in the chow line, thinking about eggs and wondering what we'll be working on in drill today. There's a peacefulness in my heart that I haven't felt in the longest time. Those mountains did more for me that morning than anything else I could have asked for. An unexpected dream come true.

And that is my perfect wake-up. What's yours?

7:00 AM