"The mountains are calling and I must go. So long LA, I'm going home."
The text was sent in the wee hours of morning on November 1, 2007 as I cruised north on the 14 freeway for my date with destiny. The TOF had been converted into the "booze cruise" (as IF I would allow the movers to remotely touch my wine and spirit collection), and Pop in Big Red (Yukon XL) followed closely behind as we left the smog, congestion, and city drama behind. In front of me rose what has become my little piece of paradise, my most grand backyard, my passion. So it seemed somewhat appropriate at least that for the one year anniversary I should do something daring, something huge, something completely unexpected...
I drove back to LaLa Land.
After having been cajoled to come down for a few group hikes, I finally put together that I could make the trip to the southland this past weekend. Work was a bit slow, so I took Friday off and cruised south, looking for an opportunity to maybe get above 10K and hike and play with the new camera. Instead, after hearing that it was raining at the Portal, and clouds hanging low all through the OV, I just kept meandering south. The big surprise was Saturday, since the only people who knew I was driving down were Chrissy and Mike.
As I pulled into the parking area at the Iron Mountain trailhead, I heard a resounding, "TEAM HYPOXIA!!!" from Arthur (hypoxic zombie) across the highway. I gave another big hug to Thor (fish395), whom I had met last winter, and Karen (KarenR) who I met that day. It was great to meet Arthur's wife, son, and dog, and I was looking forward to hiking with Chris and her kids, Alana and Damien, again. After a pause for station identification, we finally called the remaining attendee to see where the Mini Cooper was at: I mean, if the woman from Bishop can show up on time... We were ushered on with promises of catching up on the trail, so we hoofed along. We met Kim (Kim in PL) as she was descending, and spoke briefly about possible future trips (ladies, keep your ears peeled for this one). Shortly below the summit, Doug (DUG67) and his son, Mike, finally caught us up, and I got another huge glad to meet ya hug! At the summit, we met up with Dale Dalrymple and the
group was complete! Treats abounded on the summit: rice krispie treats from Chrissy, MnM cookies from DUG, homemade treat bags from me. Other highlights included:
-- Arthur's son Joshua losing a tooth and hand-carrying it to the summit before giving it to dad to put in a plastic bag for safe keeping!
-- DUG's son Mike not stopping giggling and laughing for well over 90 minutes straight.
-- Alana and me blasting by the boys on the lower part of the mountain, then waiting for everyone to catch up.
-- Damien, Alana, Mike, and myself playing
airplane on the way down, running the steep sections and scaring hikers and dogs alike.
-- Celebratory cake at the trailhead following the hike: I took a few liberties of Whitney at sunrise w/ fresh mango and peaches with a sky made of Betsy's apricot jam.
It was a beautiful day and I was so glad to meet everyone!
On Sunday, Mike (GigaMike) and I headed to the San Gorgonio Wilderness, where I spent time just two years ago training and cutting my teeth on altitude and conditioning. The weather had dawned cold and dreary from below, but after a good breakfast and a little bit of getting lost (what do you mean we're in Yucaipa??), we finally pulled into the
Forsee Creek Trailhead north of the San Bernardino Ridge. The trail ambles and angles up to the ridge over about 5 miles, gradually gaining around 3500ft. We climbed in the calm and humidity of cloud
cover , the sun occasionally
bursting through the trees and creating brilliant rays cutting sharply towards us. Beads of
dew balanced on the remaining green grasses of the lower elevations, while wet carpets of leaves and pine needles silenced our steps. Rising above 8K, we stood
above the clouds, watching them roil and seethe in the strengthening breeze, breathing against the forested northern slopes of the ridge. I was only a minute or two behind him, but I rounded a corner to see Mike sitting poised with his camera: "Give me 10!" he piped up! He was sitting at 10K feet, and once I walked to him, I had hit my 28th straight week of touching 10K. We high-10d it, then high-tailed it for the ridge, Mike high-knee jogging the last hundred yards to the trail junction as I rolled my eyes at him. From the trail we followed a NW ridge to the summit of
Anderson Peak, then cut down and east to
Shields ' pile of rock. Mts. Baldy, Pine, and Dawson rose like
islands in the sea of fog to the west, Big Bear Lake sparkling to the north. Gorgonio's bald grey
summit stood in sharp contrast to San Jacinto's steep and dark
slopes. Cloud
towers matched the bulbous limbs of limber pines all around us. We descended the same trail, the sun's golden hour illuminating the edges of the fog as we dropped into
ghostly pine forest, reaching the TOF just before the sun went down.
I've been here a year now. I wake with a smile on my face every morning; turn to the right as I head out the driveway and say good morning to my boys, Mts. Tom, Basin, Humphreys, and Emerson; stare at the west ridge of White Mountain towering out my kitchen window. I was given a chance to live out some of my dreams, and g-d willing, I'll be able to continue to share my adventures, no matter where they take me. It was ironic that I returned to SoCal to celebrate my anniversary of leaving there. But the gift was that I spent the anniversary of my best decision ever with some of those who mean the most to me.
And that's real happiness.
A few moments from the weekend:
Rest of the pics of the
group hike and then
Sunday in he SGW.
From the luckiest girl in the world: Climb Hard, Be Safe.
-L
).