We continued hiking this week but the weather, and time of day, did not provide suitable moments to capture on film. Instead, we have placed photographs from one of our memorable trips to the West on the blog. During October, we intend heading in that direction with an emphasis on the Sierras, weather permitting (and of course, always health). In the meantime, our editor struggles with her knee although I’m beginning to think that it’s her way of missing the delightful 4 and 5 o’clock morning hikes. Fortunately, when not hiking alone, Sean Bradford has joined me. He is a refreshing young man, a real delight.
Last Friday, we woke at 4am and commenced the hike at five. The weather was promising as the clouds covered vast areas of the county. Normally this provides a wonderful screen on which the sun’s beams shine, creating a palette of colors that places a person in another dimension. More than just colors, the clouds cover the surrounding mountains, often retaining the shape of those on which they rest. As light dawns upon the sleeping land, it’s not unusual to feel the stirring of a breeze. This movement seems to wake the clouds from their slumber and encourage them to move along, sometimes with a dolphin-like effect as they ride over the mountains. The system is so intricate and yet robust.
It wasn’t to be as the fog blocked visibility for much of our hike. Interestingly enough, a break in the clouding did provide a view of the valley which looked so different from anything seen before from vantage points visited multiple times. Sean and I then left the summit for our usual run down Iron Mountain. Sean is a learned man of G-d and scripture besides being half my age. The scene is set as we begin while the young man commences a dissertation on important issues. Off we go, heading for the trailhead at our usual pace. Lately, I have not brought a backpack, choosing to carry a flashlight in a pocket, small camera in the same place, bottle of water in the hand, car keys in the opposite pocket while the free hand keeps the weighted down shorts from falling to the knees and further.
Hopefully, you get the picture. It might be termed a multi-task hike with me listening to a wonderful talk, holding my shorts up, bottle in hand, eyes on the trail watching for protruding rocks and any other hazards.
As I began the tumble, my eyes caught sight of the rock that I had stubbed. While in ‘flight’, my brain did what it usually thinks about in such situations—protect the right hip. The amazing thing is that I seemed to have much time to prepare. I then went into a roll and came out of the tumble successfully. It also felt good to provide Sean with some entertainment, a break from his talk, if you will. Back on the feet again, we headed down not pausing to dust off. Within four minutes, not wishing to be known as one-trick pony, I found myself on the ground again. This time there seemed to be less time to think about it while stumbling.
One always seeks excuses. After all, it could not be my fault. Then I remembered. The night before, we had dinner with Celia and Nate Levy. Nate plied us with cokes. Obviously, our drinks were laced with something stronger than aspartame. Hopefully, Sean will give me another chance to show that I can remain on my feet for reasonable periods. I also look forward to the return of our dear editor and higher clouds. The sad thing is that Jenni injured herself while taking a running tumble on Mount Woodson three weeks before. You could say we have done the twin peaks or perhaps more accurately, they have done us.
People are always asking, “How was the West won?” People can be so inquisitive. We remember seeing the movie when we probably were no older than ten years. Does this make us an expert on the subject? We’ll leave that for someone else to decide. However, we have the answer to a better question: “Why was the West won?” We think the answer may lie in the pictures we have published below. Some have been seen before, many not. We hope you agree with the choice and sentiment.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
Mounts St. Helens and Rainier (Washington) in the distance, above the clouds from Saddle Mountain in Oregon.
Look carefully in the background.
Oops! Should have looked at the photograph before sipping.
Jen above clouds on Mount Williamson in Southern California.
On Mount Rainier, one of our favorite pictures.
Cape Lookout, Oregon Coast.
"Hey Dune". Mesquite Flats, Death Valley, California.
After the experience near Suicide Rock, we ordered crampons to be sent to our next port of call.
Beyond Mono Pass, in the Sierras, California. (Would beautiful be superfluous?)
Mount Lukens, a toughie outside Pasadena.
Mount Shasta, California.
Atop Angels Landing, Zion, peering over the edge.
Saddle Mountain, Oregon just another hop-and-skip to reach a 'colleague'.
A different perspective from Bryce Canyon.
Bright Angel Trail, Grand Canyon, Arizona, above the Colorado River.
Near Mammoth Peak, California.
Gavin and father, one of us looking a little uncertain or maybe both, at Rattlesnake Ledge outside Seattle.
Horseshoe Bend, Page, Arizona at sunset. "Thars gold in dem slabs."
From Mount Tallac, Lake Tahoe below.
San Joquim Ridge near Mammoth, California.
Another favorite, our son Robbie with us on Mount Shasta at dawn.
Top of Table Mountain in the Sierras, California.
Sunset at the 'Angel', just hanging out...over.
A view at Sabrine Lake, the Sierras, California.
'Charity', South Sister facing 'Faith' and 'Hope', in Oregon with plenty of humility.
Capitol Reefs, Utah. Hoping those boulders are buddies and have bonded.
The 'famous' Delicate Arch, Moab, Utah, a view from the other side.
A 'bummer' for Jen on Mount Rainier in the middle of summer.
