Before the first tool scraped dirt or the crew finished their first jokes, the kettle in Nacho the Van was already on.

It was one of those Pacific Northwest mornings—the kind that clings to your flannel and seeps into your bones. My van was parked just off a gravel spur road, pine needles crunching under boots as everyone trickled in. Tools rattled, mugs clinked, and the aroma of fresh coffee started cutting through the cold.

Lighthouse from Treeline Coffee Roasters is a single-origin Guatemalan with notes of strawberry, cola, and a winey finish. But tasting notes aside, it just hits right in the stillness of a trailhead morning.

Last Saturday was a vivid reminder of why coffee matters. No, that is not hyperbole or an understatement. It matters A LOT. The temperature was in the low 40s, and the rain was constant. I was shooting photos of a volunteer crew re-routing a trail that had been washed out. The whole time, I kept thinking of two things ... (1) I need rain gear like Alaska crabbers being bounced around in a small boat in the Bering Sea, and (2) I need coffee.