How to Hide

How to Hide came directly from a real day in the Sierra Nevada. I headed up Highway 88 during a stretch of triple-digit foothill heat without much of a plan beyond getting into the high country. The temperature dropped, the clouds were moving across the mountains, and I started following roads and places that looked interesting rather than trying to reach a particular destination.

That kind of day has become one of my favorite ways to experience the mountains. Highway 88 can be busy, especially in summer, but it does not take much to get beyond the obvious turnouts and find a completely different experience. The trip moved through Red Lake, rough forest roads, lingering snow, small pockets of water, high-country wind, and long stretches where the landscape felt much larger than the number of people in it.

I had also been thinking differently about the idea of owning a cabin or mountain property. The romance of having a permanent place in the Sierra had started running into the practical reality of maintenance, fire protection, winter damage, expense, and being tied to one location. That question became part of the song without turning the trip into an argument about property. It was really about recognizing how much connection can come simply from knowing a landscape, returning to it, exploring it, and allowing a day there to be enough.

The song stays close to the actual outing and its observations. Where it moves into metaphor or possibility, particularly around natural details encountered during the trip, those ideas are intentionally presented as possibilities rather than documented facts.