47.06 Nevada: Boulder City: Black Mountain one morning. 47.07 Red Mountain, the next. Including previous visits to Lake Mead, the Magnificent, setting the scene.

From Red Mountain, Las Vegas awakes.

Las Vegas, much earlier in the morning, sun highlights Red Rock Canyon.

From Hamblin Peak, Lake Mead extends.

Thankfully, there are many fascinating inhabitants in our world. The drawback is that during a life, one fails to meet even a fraction of them. Each country has its own flavor, its culture which manifests itself in the people—even those that deny it. With so much acrimony existing within the United States, it’s especially refreshing to come across people, both on the trails and in small towns, who enlighten, entertain and reveal the depths of the positive side of humanity.

As an aside, whereas we are deeply saddened by the hatred, intolerance and nastiness abounding, we don’t think that will change until we change ourselves. It seems so easy and typical to believe one is correct and almost perfect in one’s thinking and views and therefore, every contrary opinion is that of a moron or someone to frown- and look down- upon. Many people display superior, smug and high-and-mighty attitudes that, to be frank, make us want to puke...forgive the outburst...continues below.

For our friend, Yves: 'The Frenchman' outside Las Vegas, viewed from Red and Black Mountains, Boulder City.

The difference of good timing, The Frenchman basking at sunrise.

What's not to like.

Contrast with an early sunset.

Black Mountain Overlook extension.

A glimpse of Las Vegas through the cleft at Red Mountain.

Standing on Fortification Hill, the Arizona side of the border.

A couple of views of the magnificent Lake Mead. A great favorite, both the place and photograph.

While in San Luis Obispo, we met a couple of young men on a mountain recently. They arrived at the peak separately (two minutes apart), one with his arm in a sling, the other with a knee brace. We began chatting to the twins and it did not take long to realize we wanted to meet their parents so we could tell them how impressive their sons are. Strange that the brothers suffered serious injuries within in days of each other but on different body parts. Here they were, in sling and brace, but running on a tough mountain trail. They provided interesting perspectives which became more relevant when Ryan told about his short-term project in South Africa a few years back. We attain a particularly good feeling when meeting young people who give us confidence for the future.

On another peak, we had a view of the latter part of the trail and noticed two women struggling before making it to the top finally...just like us. We greeted each other and took in the enticing views. Shortly thereafter, we began conversing and before we knew it, forty minutes had passed. This meant that our brunch had become lunch. They both had very positive attitudes which they wore on their faces, too. Both had nursing backgrounds and related stories about the negativity of their colleagues. Many, they said, attacked them because they approached life positively, others made fun of them because they preferred to eat healthily and not over indulge, or refuse to engage in gossip. It reminded us of the 'tall poppy syndrome' where it appears people prefer others to conform rather than set higher standards. Is free choice really a desire?

The women were of Mexican origin which has to be mentioned to appreciate some irony. When introducing ourselves, Jacqueline pronounced the 'J' appropriately which allowed Jenni and I to use Spanish pronunciations for our names. The other woman really provided the winner. A proud and delightful young Mexican with the rather difficult name to pronounce: 'Sandra Jane'. It made us all smile. The final bit was her close friend had always thought her middle name to be 'Jenni'. Conclusion: Some days, people are a sheer blessing...continues below.



The full picture. Standing on Red Mountain with Black Mountain overlook in front.

On a slightly negative side, we also come across people who would not share the time of day with a person. Particularly on hikes in and close to cities, people tend to be less well-mannered. We still can't understand why when we stand aside to allow a person to pass, that person will not acknowledge it or us. How do you walk past a person when you're effectively alone on a mountain and refuse to return a greeting or even make eye contact. Heck, we really don't want to stop and converse, the trail takes much of our breath away as it is, but to be so rude?

The other day, we stood aside to allow a family of 3 to pass. They ignored us. Fine. Then while we waited, the husband slipped and fell on this slightly tricky edge. I put out my hand to the wife to help her down. Without hesitation, she took my hand and I steadied and supported her, releasing her when she appeared comfortable. Any issue of virus passing was irrelevant in the circumstances. Not a word was uttered. Strange but then perhaps we are odd. In a subsequent blog, we'll intoduce a woman we met on O'Leary Peak in Flagstaff, someone who really made an unusual impression.

I've always wanted to raise this issue. Particularly in the generations following ours, children have been instructed not to talk to strangers. Like most facets of life, there are circumstances where children should be most cautious. However, nowadays, when are children not in the company of a parent or guardian outdoors? My question is: When will the child ever learn to greet or deal with a stranger? At some magical time do they 'unlearn' that command. Kind of knocks a hole in biblical ethics of helping or showing kindness to strangers or may I be so brazen as to say, at least smile and walk past a stranger.

We remember a time in New Mexico when we had completed a hike and heard a young woman, about 18 years old, talking on the phone with her mother. She was crying as she had no way of getting home. Apparently, the car was left 5 miles away from where she and a friend stood and it was late in the day. When we heard the distresed voice, we walked up to her and asked where she wanted to go. She told us but said it was in a direction away from the distant town. We said she should walk with us to our car. We were strangers. Should she have followed the dictum?

What she did not understand is that she thought she was fortunate. On the contrary, she gave us an opportunity to do something positive—kind—if we are immodest.

Thank heavens for the many wonderful people we come across. Our deepest thanks to David, a person who helped us ten years ago when we were lost on a mountain. We'll never forget you, Stranger.

Goodnight!

Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey