Mount Shasta softened by the early morning sun, approximately, 5:45am.
Without the heavy snow-covering, some of the beauty of the mountain appears diminished.
The pictures fail to illustrate the atmosphere and 'beauty' of the struggle the hiker experiences.
A haunting side of Shasta on a hazy day, appearing out the blue.
Without her make-up (snow), Shasta shows a harsh side.
Jack London felt the ‘call of the wild’. John Muir heard the mountains calling. We, more modestly,
hear Mount Shasta summoning us from time-to-time. From the first occasion we met the ‘lady’, we have been
taken in by her charm and accepted her temper. In fact, it must be genuine, for today, after spending
nearly seven hours on the eastern side, without her mascara—read snow—we saw another facet of her.
In fact, in June last year we did mention under that layer she is rugged, harsh and very rough.
Her exterior has a soft covering although her insides are rock solid...the occasional 'heart-burn' eruptions,
notwithstanding.
Looking down and away from the mountain into the hazy cascades and brushstroke cloud formations.
Seeing we didn't get breakfast in bed, how about now? We stopped to eat and rest somewhere on the mountain.
Rich wall across the way; not exactly smooth surfaces anywhere on the mountain.
We climbed 3,500 feet on some slippery and very steep slopes. In order to see her top, one has
to plan an overnight stay, usually two; we were passing through so we enjoyed it (struggled) in our
limited time. As a comparison with South Sister, the hike of six days earlier, the former is far meaner
besides being considerably higher. What she lacks in beauty without snow-covering, she more than makes
up by providing spectacular views of the surrounding region. Experts say she influences the weather, too.
We set the alarm for 4:30am so that we might catch a sunrise. We arrived at the mountain a few minutes
too late, seeing a red fireball that shone through and lit the forest. It startled and excited us.
What a sight! We needed to be out and above the forest by that stage. However, our editor refused to carry
our backpack, slowing us down considerably. The hike begins in the middle of nowhere, well in a forest that
is serviced by terrible roads. After two recent hikes, we have washed our car immediately after returning to
the town as it becomes caked in sand and dust. In fact, we find the manual work quite liberating, actually honest.
We just don’t want to get too used to it. Who can afford to be that honest?
Clouds kept swinging by to say 'hello'. At times, completely covered followed by a clear sky.
Tough in places, torturous in others. The camera does not provide perspective.
Perched on a ledge and wondering which way would be easier. You put your left foot forward...
We stopped in Shasta City on Sunday afternoon after leaving the city of Klamath where we lay low
for the Sabbath. We were very low as our bodies were not responding to all instructions from the brain.
We had the added disadvantage in that not only does our body have to obey the brain but worse, our editor, too.
She was very tired, her feet blistered badly (although we have never come across good blisters), that she could
not even control the editor's red pen. For the latter we were most grateful, very sad about the feet, though.
She slept enough on Saturday to recuperate fully so she could take on part of Mount Shasta, a glorious lady.
Jenni’s not too bad herself. After acquiring new boots to replace her collapsed pair, she was her old self again.
(That's always a tricky phrase to handle.)
As hike-about 12 (San Diego to Seattle), 13 (Austria, Switzerland and Italy) and 14 (Seattle to San Diego) draw
to a close, we are grateful for many blessings. Admittedly, we worked hard but the rewards were and continue to
be incredible. We met some terrific people, too. That is an added dimension to the adventure. We would like to
thank
Maude, Jonna and Hil—they know why. In addition, a special word of appreciation to
Denise Sneag.
A scene we found particularly attractive as we climbed.
A perspective from last year's visit showing the lady more modestly (and beautifully) attired, in snow
Not resting. Testing the pole for um...tension and stress. Jackets on as wind velocity increases at altitude.
The readership of the blog has grown strongly; we take this as a positive. Thank you for viewing it. It is
particularly satisfying to bring some of the outside beauty to our friends and family.
We need to rest a little and will continue to hike locally, blisters permitting. We update our blog from
time-to-time so don’t hesitate to take a peek. Should you have suggestions, criticism or requests, please
let us know. Criticism, in particular, should be directed to the editor—we are far too sensitive.
Mud Creek Falls in the distance.
Crossing the creek after 90 minutes. Life at last.
We hope you’ll join us for Hike-about 15 during October—you might not understand this but it makes a
difference traveling with our friends, both of them.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
More life in the deer forest.
One of the glaciers, Konwakiton, to the right of the protruding rock.
Time to rest after another tough but rewarding day.
In a second closing, at each tough hike we faced, we were inspired by the courage
of Lionel Greenberg who continues to battle a dreaded disease. He will overcome it.
May your health be restored soon, our friend!
