Hard to beat sunrises and sunsets in San Diego.
Jenni peaks after 6 miles.
Layers of mountains viewed from El Cajon Peak.
We undertook a few hikes this week, a wonderful one with son, Robbie and friend, Sean. However, there
isn’t a hike in the county, in our opinion, that matches the challenge of El Cajon Mountain. At 12 miles
round-trip, 4,000 feet cumulative gain and wonderful views, it is tough, rugged in places, involves some
scrambling and has many ups-and-downs. One climbs towards four peaks and then down again before the final
ascent, adding in the extra altitude gain.
In near perfect weather, we were thankful for the enthusiasm we felt about hiking early, grateful in facing
the challenge and even more appreciative returning to car feeling strong. It is always a boon when the car
starts, too. What a great Thanksgiving Day!
Sitting at the peak of El Cajon Mountain
Finding the gap.
A day of ups and downs, literally.
With permission of our editor, we are pleased to let our friends and family know of the publication
of our third book, “Terror on the Cliffs”. It is a very exciting time as well as a little nerve-racking
as we expose ourselves in the public domain. Of course, we are fully clothed…you know what we mean.
Although this blog is not the forum for self-promotion, every now and again we allow the discipline
to slack. We will provide more information of the release in the next blog. In the meantime, set out
below is a little verbiage from the cover and an extract.
Early morning clouds shade us.
This is what's termed,"Scared of his own shadow," as we try the 'Look Mom, no hands' concept.
Sunset at another hike
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
A view from near the peak of El Cajon.
Set out below is a little information of the book just published.
Terror on the Cliffs
Synopsis:
Two couples undertake a hiking adventure up Angels Landing in Zion National Park. Although four climb
the steep peak, not all return. Missing, an accident or something sinister?
The reader is kept guessing until the last pages as the plot takes many unexpected twists and turns along
hiking trails in the western part of the USA. The supposedly ‘good guys’ place themselves in a ‘no-win’
situation towards the climax when it appears that evil will triumph over good. Left to the authorities,
it might just be the case. With a dubious hero jailed, an elderly attorney is left fighting for justice.
The odds of success remain extremely bleak…
Extract:
They stood around in random fashion, the sheriff and his officers, a few park rangers, two civilians and a
helicopter pilot. Many of the faces, particularly the eyes, aimed a little off to the side of the subject.
Their work was partly complete. The body before them was female—unfortunately, the remains of a woman.
The clue regarding gender revealed itself in the clothing. Although the khakis she wore were unisex, usually
making it more difficult to differentiate, parts not soaked in blood revealed a woman’s curves and style.
Even hardened officers approached reluctantly. Limbs protruded at all angles, twisted, bent and broken.
The smashed head looked like a papier-mâché model. Brain matter continued to leak, to drip slowly from the
large hole in the cranium, adding to the pools of congealed blood that formed under and around the body.
The head had twisted so that the face hung pathetically, chin resting on the left shoulder, not unlike a
puppet put through its motions. It amounted to a pile of broken, no, make that smashed bones, torn flesh
and hair colored mostly red, blood red. It was a disastrous and cruel ending for the poor woman. Dare it
be asked: Another failure of mankind?
Death is harsh, tragic and final. At least, one could expect, even in a cruel world, death with some dignity.
This woman was not afforded that. She died without a shred of dignity and alone, increasing the pain and shame
of it all. If it could be considered somewhat of a consolation, the flesh-eaters had yet to arrive.
The civilian woman observing the scene with the rest of the males reached out and embraced the man standing next
to her. Her sobs, emanating from somewhere deep inside the soul, filled the space with the only sound in this
vast open and attractive terrain, save for the occasional croaking frog and buzz of crickets. The uniformed men
seemed relieved to divert attention from the former human form to the heart-broken, living woman.
Accidents of this nature were not uncommon, although not occurring frequently, thankfully. Accident or foul play,
nobody knew, but the next few days might reveal the truth. Whatever the cause, the horrific result would not change.
The woman was broken, broken beyond repair—dead.
Further details to follow...
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