|This, is where I belong.|
This never fails to inspire, spark awe and wonder. This replenishes my leaky soul.
Past an abundance of plunging water bound for the Pacific, through meadow after meadow of sweet, feet-kissing wildflowers, we labored up a final ladder of tundra to a snowy ridge line saddle. The ridge undulated like a sleepy Dow Jones, connecting a series of craggy sub-fourteeners. "This," was a new viewpoint for Bobbie and I, and to think, it was't even our intended destination. We thanked Miss Sara N. Dippity for her random, round-a-bout witchy ways, and I apologized to no one in particular for getting frustrated to the point of cursing at the various barricades and detours that landed us in this better circumstance.
Like seats in a theater, row after row of mountain silhouettes faded into the balcony of our horizon. We had a little alpine costume party on the ridge; identities of familiar peaks were disguised by this new angle of view that tweaked shapes and reordered "seating." There was no mistaking 14,022 foot San Luis Peak to the east, though, sitting there all by her lonesome. I recalled the festering blisters she gave me back in '92.
Our viewing saddle was sandwiched between two 13,400 foot peaks. As we prepared to make our way down Bobbie suggested that we might as well climb one of them. "Maybe we can see Silver Lake (our original destination) from up there." It made me wonder if there was something in her energy bar that wasn't in mine... the little show-off. What could I say but, "Lead the way."
She made quick work of a jumble of jumbo boulders. Unlike the ridge to Sneffels, these rocks had roots and could be trusted. A few minutes later I was standing on a lonely "no name" summit 13,406 feet above sea level... two thousand feet above timberline, and far, far away from the madding crowd; a place so God-Blessed tranquil that I was audibly aware of mind-gears whirring to a standstill, and witnessed a consummate weaving of Peace, Perfection and Purpose.
Once on top we rested weary legs and equally tired eyes on Silver Lake—a sapphire jewel befitting a king and his queen. A small collection of weatherbeaten buildings remained along the north shore, remnants of a gold and silver mining camp from days gone by and a testament to their constructors. It was those ramshackle buildings I had hoped to explore and photograph, only to find the trailhead now blocked with "No Trespassing" signs. Really? a mining claim must be "worked" to remain valid. I suspected this one was used more as a "residence," but what can you do about an antiquated mining law that remains unchanged after 120 years. So the "owners" are allowed to block access to the trail, which essentially turns Silver Lake into a private fishing hole. It stinks, like guts of trout left to rot in the sun, while breaded pink fillets fry up in the "occupier's" personal, private property pans. That's ok, thanks to them I'm somewhere new... someplace I've never been before. Wow, look at me... I'm actually making "lemonade."
I was suddenly struck down with appreciation—that of all the countless possibilities that lay-in-wait beyond the fleeting orgasm of my conception, "This" is my reality. This is where I live and breathe some 62 years after a random moment of spontaneous passion in the upstairs bedroom of a little house on the outskirts of Springfield, Ohio.
How do we know, let alone, get to, where we need to be? Does the Universe give us what we need? or just the "guns and ammo" to go hunt it down? Chicken—egg; I don't know. What I do know is that I would not long survive Ohio, nor a city life, with its worldly temptations, shrieking sirens, jackhammers, honking horns, lack of pure air and long lines to do virtually everything A to Z. So that I some-freaking-how ended up here... right where I belong, exactly where I have the best shot at finding out who the hell I am, why I'm here, and then die in peace, well, "excuse me while I kiss the sky." (Jimi Hendrix)
|13'416 feet, one of two "no name" peaks on our ridge|
|Spencer Basin... Highland Mary's Lake, barely visible in the upper center of the photo|
|"Into Thin Air"|
|Bobbie, gaining the precious saddle|
|The other "no name" peak... the 13,406 foot one Bobbie thought we should climb|
|Jumbo Rocks, on the way to the top|
|Only a couple hundred yards to the summit|
|From the top... of the world|
|Silver Lake, more or less now a private fishing hole unless you are prepared to hike the long way around and come in from the south.|
|An RV Caravan along the road in to the Highland Mary Lake, and Spencer Basin Trailheads|
|Your's truly, trying not to fall into Silver Lake|
|In the distance is the Grenadier and Needles range, a more sheer range of mountains that includes 14,000 foot peaks, Eolus, Windom and Sunlight... all of which we have summited.|
If you like it,
then "Like" it.
Share the love