Wednesday was another exciting and challenging day, bringing rewards that will endure. The great
news is that our editor, although weary, actually both of us were, looks to be on her way to regaining
her former fitness—we shake in trepidation just thinking of her in action at full strength, red pen and
dictionary. Friday, a steep climb the whole way and pleasure on the ‘table’ as discussed in the last
missive, was a highlight. Then again, so many are.
During the hike towards Piute Pass, we mentioned meeting a Piute Indian fellow. We don’t like to show
favoritism but we have a strong bias towards members of the great Navajo nation. This began a couple of
years before when Chief Chutz-Pah of Flagstaff helped us in respect of a rather delicate issue. We did
make mention of this in a blog last year. Anyway, we spotted birds flying over the peaks. The fellow
explained, after viewing them through binoculars, that they were eagles on the one side with hawks on
the other. By that time, our editor arrived on the scene. She noticed he was carrying or is
it ‘packing’?—that’s the term we gun types use when someone is armed. ‘What’s with the rifle?”
She asked. “Deer hunter,” he replied. We felt quite knowledgeable as we had seen the movie, many
years before.
Later, we mentioned to our editor: should we write that we too, are hunters, we might lose
half our readership. ‘Yeah’, she replied, ‘that would leave just Mum and a stray internet surfer.’
Sometimes she is rather acerbic. True it may be but aren’t some things better left unsaid. The point
of the story is that here was a hunter needing binoculars to view his prey. What if after we left
him he thought we looked like game. It could happen. After all, we are as game as the next person.
Later, when we stood on the summit, we did not realize we made for a great target. Why do we mention
this? On our return we crossed paths again with the hunter—he was lagging far behind. He mentioned
that he saw us standing on the ridge. It left us cold. What if he thought we were deer Jenni or deer Jeffrey.
Oh dear. Makes one wonder.
We decided to call our friend Chief Chutz-Pah, Chutzy for short, and find out whether we were in
any danger. ‘There is no reception,’ we said to our editor, becoming a little concerned as we put
away the phone. She looked us directly in the eye and suggested, “Try sending a smoke signal.”
We are seriously thinking of seeking a new hiking partner. Should anyone be interested, kindly call.
Better still. Send us a smoke signal—1-800-SHE-FIREd.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
A few more to follow:
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