“We are now in the mountains
and they are in us,
filling every pore and cell of us.”
- John Muir
“Mountains are not Stadiums where I satisfy my ambition to achieve,
they are the cathedrals where I practice my religion.”
- Anatoli Boukreev
Under the shadow of the high sierras at home in the mountains. Here are a few photos from our recent trip into the playground that is Alabama Hills at the feet of some of the tallest mountains in the 48. Mount Williamson and Whitney loomed over our campground like sleeping buffalo. We actually had wild buffalo outside of our camp in Africa which was not quite as pleasant or comforting. I couldn't sleep, imagining all night a stampede charging my tent. Fortunately this weekend, we had Darwin the terrier to take care of any hostile threats.
Girl climbing weekend was a brilliant idea. I have a feeling this will be the first of many. We were preceded by a fresh snow in the hills that stayed only long enough to dust the mountains. By the time we got there, things were warming up. Even though it was chilly, we got away with pretty ideal camping weather. My camp mates might argue with me, but forties are not bad when camping in spring. I've stayed in this area and had frozen water by morning, so we got off easy this time.
Being the legitimate campers that we are, we performed the staples of outdoor living: fire, smores and esoteric stories of ghost, aliens, and coincidences. Stories must be told. And mountains must be climbed.