Head Over Heels Part II...The Fun Begins Where The Trail Ends

"Remind me to get my depth perception checked," I said to Bobbie, who either couldn't hear me over her grunts and groans and heavy breathing, or couldn't care less about anything I had to say while battling a ridiculous slope of slip-slide talus. 

Head Over Heels, Literally and Metaphorically

We are taken by surprise on Tuesday's drive over Red Mountain Pass, looking for some new "dots" to add to our grid. Autumn colors are about to peak, earlier than usual by a week or more. Even though it happens every year, the kid in me can't help feeling it's brand new.

Blind Faith

There was no turning back. Gasping for breath, lost in a surreal swirl of clouds that spawned flashes of lightning and chest-rattling thunder, we'd come too far, worked too hard, and suffered the worst in an attempt to claim El Diente's summit.

Woods Lake to Navajo Lake

Stretching both my legs and the limits of a senescent memory on a lonely Woods Lake trail, I recalled how, even as a child, it never took long to outgrow my front yard and neighborhood. I must have been four or five when we moved to an almost new tract-home on La Mirada street in south Phoenix. Only a few blocks distant, South Mountain filled the frame of our living room's "picture window," as did the flash-boom summer monsoon lightning storms that discharged on its rocky ridge-lines.

Tranquility In Paradise Basin

Well, it's not far down to paradise, at least it's not for me

And if the wind is right you can sail away and find tranquility

Oh the canvas can do miracles, just you wait and see

Believe me...

A song by Christoper Cross

When the cure is worse than the disease...

A couple days after our Camp Bird Road exploit, Leon wants us to ride our bikes over to Log Hill and race each other to the top. Oh how he loves to beat me up on that ascent.

Macho-Geezers Tackle Camp Bird Road

"There are no limits, only plateaus. And you must not stay there, you must go beyond them." Bruce Lee