I've had the urge to get high since I was a little kid.
Long before I knew anything of mind altering, I've looked up to things and wondered, "how the hell can I get up there?"
As a construction worker, I've noticed that as buildings go up, so do I. While others are toiling below, I am up on the rafters, tossing out plywood, creating a roof from which to perch.
I can't wait to get started. "Let me up there!"
Such is my make-up.
I eat my lunches on top of ladders.
I want to climb things, as broken as I am, still.
I think of rock climbing not as a sport, but as a pleasant way to spend an afternoon.
Simply put, I prefer looking way down, to way up there...
This last week, on my way home from the local transfer station, I took the scenic route home over some fire roads maintained by BLM (Well, sort of maintained... methinks, in this day and age of over-caution, they should have installed a guard rail!).
There is nothing like getting up above the freezing fog to where the air is clearer and looking down. I had to find a spot where the trees were barren to take this panoramic photo. I'm actually up above a burn (maybe lightning strike?) at about 3600 feet. On this day there's no snow here, but as I write this, the road is now closed (unless you're crazy) because it snowed last night.
From that vantage point, the fog becomes the sea, the mountains islands, and the sky shrinks a little bit.
And then there is this evidence. The day before yesterday, I dragged turkey drumstick legs out of his wood stove-warmed house and made him climb back up Kerby Peak with me.
Silly me, wants to "get in shape", so I loaded up a backpack with about 35 pounds just to make things "harder" and then realized, half way up, that had I not lost the weight around my middle...
On this day we encountered snow, but as I write this I can imagine another foot of powder up there well worth hiking up to see...
And did I mention the view looking down?