White Mountain

I hope everyone had a wonderful 4th of July! I spent this 4th a little differently than usual ... I was up early and on the road to the White Mountains by 8:00. I had lunch in Lone Pine. Dad showed us the famous arch in the Alabama Hills. We drove up to the campground, where we set up camp at 8,000 feet, then wandered through the Bristlecone Pine Forest, where fireworks are strictly forbidden. (The Bristlecones are the oldest living things on the planet, some dating over 4,000 years old.) We eventually fell asleep on a moonless night, only to awake before the crack of dawn for a 15-mile round-trip hike to the top of White Mountain, the 3rd tallest mountain in California, and my third "fourteener" to climb. In fact, as you read this (if you're reading it on the 5th) I am hiking ... most likely trying to ignore the pain in my feet and the fact I hike slower than all three of my compatriots with whom I came. My dad is here, my husband is here, and friend Dennis is here. As usual, there is an element of extra pride that rises up within me at being the only woman on this trek.

I hope I make it. I'm a little less physically prepared for this hike than I was the other two I conquered. However, I am more than mentally prepared, which I believe is more than half the battle. I love standing on the tops of these mountains. The view is never less than spectacular and breathtaking. The feeling of accomplishment is a high all its own. And there's nothing quite like the silence of landscape above the treeline, on a trail few follow. Peace and tranquility are more present here than anywhere else I have been. And I love peace and tranquility.

Even though my feet feel like they've been attacked by a meat tenderizer, and tomorrow the very act of walking will be a chore, there is no place else I'd rather be. I'll have the real story upon my return, with hopefully a few pictures.