On Pins and Needles

 

There are more pins and needles around here than the kind that draws blood and flattens tires. I'm talking mountains with steepled ridge lines, pinnacles that boggle the mind and swoons the heart. Throw in a few clouds and mild temps and it's about as close to heaven as one can get on planet earth.

As I think back on my disappointment and anger at not finding a site at McDowell Mountain's sweet abundance of groomed granite bike trails that go on forever, I'm almost embarrassed by the serendipity of landing in an equal, if not better, recreational paradise boondock. Maybe there is a God, after all.  

Though rain lightened to pitter-pats as I rolled into camp, clouds hung around for a couple days. They snuggled the Superstitions in vaporous mists of splendor that had me feeling as if I had found the Lost Dutchman's gold.

This in the view out my window.

Not having a car, another stroke of serendipitous good fortune was that I found a site that was only a fifteen minute walk to a trailhead with more miles than you have energy to hike, trails that go so deep and so far you would need a backpack to explore the many inner sanctums of novel wildness. 

My first day went something like this...

Peace out and keep moving. Here's hoping for a happier new year.

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