No calamities with Jane

Awhile back I threatened that my next houseguest had best bring hiking boots 

so that we could explore this mysterious cross at the top of the cliff.

As luck would have it, my recent houseguests read this blog and remembered their boots.

Good thing, too, because it was a very steep and rocky climb.

Reaching the top of the cliff was something of a religious experience in and of itself.

There were no signs or other clues to explain the origins of the cross, so the mystery lives on.

I'm not sure what Danni was photographing here, but if she pointed her lens far off into the distance,

she might have been able to see the roof of my house. Or not.

Danni and JaneK took turns trying to give me a heart attack.

I kept telling them that we were s.o.l. if somebody got hurt, but did they listen to me? No. 

Their sense of adventure paid off, though, because we discovered a petroglyph mural I had not stumbled across previously.

I love touring my neighborhood with people who get as excited as I do about packrat-poop-filled caves.

And anybody who gets this excited about finding cow bones is welcome back any time.

Saturday encore ~ The view from 10 MNN

Last Memorial Day weekend, Smooch and I found ourselves with time on our hands and not a brain in my head, 

so we hiked up the mountain I see from my bedroom window. A year later and we I still haven't recovered. 

But it made for an interesting blog post, so I'm publishing it again. 

***

The first thing I see when I open my eyes in the morning is a great big mountain. This mountain has been staring back at me for almost six years. For some inexplicable reason Sunday morning, I decided I needed to see what the mountain saw when it was looking down at me.


I spent a few minutes on Google Earth plotting our hike to the summit, then Smooch and I hopped in the truck and drove to the trailhead. Now I happen to define hiking as "any walk on an unpaved surface." Since Smooch and I go "hiking" every day, we are very experienced hikers. Why, some days, we hike 3 or 4 miles without blinking an eye. How hard could it be to hike 3 or 4 miles up the side of a mountain?

Really hard.

Are we there yet, mom?

Up and up we went, hiking for 45 minutes, resting for 15, hiking for another 45, resting again. I'm not sure how many times we repeated that cycle – delirium may have taken over.

One of my favorite things about hiking is snacking on trail mix, so we did alot of that. And we made quite a fashion statement, hiking in our matching backpacks.

We walked through acres and acres of trees that had been scorched by the wildfires that I had watched from my bedroom window when they were burning.


We stopped for lunch at what I thought was the summit, but now I'm not so sure - next time I think I'll take a map. At any rate, I was able to look far off into the distance and spot the shiny metal roof of my house. Now I know what the view looks like from 10 Miles North of Nowhere and that, afterall, was the whole point of the trip.

FAQ Friday, episode 6

Welcome to FAQ Friday, where I will attempt to answer the questions and address the comments you've posed this week, and to explain why in heaven's name Smooch and I hiked up the side of a mountain on a whim.

First things first. Since no post of mine would be complete without a picture or two...

From Breathe:
Frankly, I need more Hank photos. I'm a big Hank fan. Just a suggestion.

Here you go!



While we're on the subject of photography...

From Dreaming:

Q. What software do you use to label your pictures?
From Crystal:
Q. What do you use to edit pictures?
A. I use Photoshop. I love Photoshop. Photoshop is my life. If I could earn a living using Photoshop, I would quit my day job. Judging by the comments left yesterday to my pledge to post some 'before and after' Photoshops next week, it seems like there's more than a passing interest in photo editing...with Photoshop. Be careful what you wish for...

Now about that hike, otherwise known as The View from 10 MNN (and yes, Cheryl, 7MSN does stand for 7 Miles South of Nowhere)...

From Fantastyk Voyager:

Q. Did you actually follow a trail? Which one?
A. Yes - it was called the Pine Shadow trail. Unbeknownst to me at the time, it is listed in the Cibola National Forest guide as "difficult" with an elevation change of 2,565 feet. Good Lord, sometimes I need supervision.

From June and Grey Horse Matters:

Q. You and Smooch must have been tired! Did you roll back down?
Q. How was the trip down? Easier I hope.
A. I've never been much of a rock 'n roll fan. The steep, rocky trail was as hard going down as going up. On the way up, we I gasped for breath and my calves were screaming; on the way down, we I prayed for a soft landing and my quads were screaming. But it was still great fun - seriously!

From Brenda:

Q. Don't you miss being able to do that with a horse?
A. More than I could ever express. I'm experiencing serious riding withdrawals, hence the need to find other activities to fill the gap. My day will come...

From Yogi and June:

Q. Next time take George and Alan.
Q. Take George and Alan. And tow ropes.
A. Oh, how cool it would be to train the boys to be pack burros. Then Deets could come along, too!

From Breathe:

Q. Okay, give it up - what's your trail snack combo?
A. I started out with one baggie of chipotle-cheese-flavored Chex Mix and one baggie of Craisins, but in a moment of genius delirium on the way down, I combined the two. I may have to patent the recipe.

From A New England Life:

Q. Somehow I'd be willing to bet Smooch wasn't as tired as you were. Ha haa! But I'll bet you both slept well that night.
A. Confession time...this hike took way more out of 36-pound Smooch than I would have imagined. It took about 48 hours for her to return to her normal activities (e.g. wanting to go outside 87 times a day). She's no worse for wear, but I think this trail was a little too much for her – and me! I've assured her that she will not have to carry her own water next time.

As for my obsession compulsion addiction habit of posting every day...


Kathy says:
So glad you posted something. Whenever you miss a day we always think the worse. So please even if you have nothing to say at least post one picture so we know all is well at 7MSN ranch.

Carol Lane says:
You deserve to take a day off or two from blogging, just let us know in advance so we won't think the worse.

Thanks to all who have given me a free pass to skip a day! I'd rather post nothing than post a bad picture. But to assuage the fears of the worriers, I think I'll reinstitute the Twitter feed at the bottom of this site. If a day goes by without a post, you can look for a tweet there for assurance that I am alive and kicking. Deal? Deal.

The view from 10 MNN

The first thing I see when I open my eyes in the morning is a great big mountain. This mountain has been staring back at me for almost six years. For some inexplicable reason Sunday morning, I decided I needed to see what the mountain saw when it was looking down at me.


I spent a few minutes on Google Earth plotting our hike to the summit, then Smooch and I hopped in the truck and drove to the trailhead. Now I happen to define hiking as "any walk on an unpaved surface." Since Smooch and I go "hiking" every day, we are very experienced hikers. Why, some days, we hike 3 or 4 miles without blinking an eye. How hard could it be to hike 3 or 4 miles up the side of a mountain?

Really hard.

Are we there yet, mom?

Up and up we went, hiking for 45 minutes, resting for 15, hiking for another 45, resting again. I'm not sure how many times we repeated that cycle – delirium may have taken over.

One of my favorite things about hiking is snacking on trail mix, so we did alot of that. And we made quite a fashion statement, hiking in our matching backpacks.

We walked through acres and acres of trees that had been scorched by the wildfires that I had watched from my bedroom window when they were burning.


We stopped for lunch at what I thought was the summit, but now I'm not so sure - next time I think I'll take a map. At any rate, I was able to look far off into the distance and spot the shiny metal roof of my house. Now I know what the view looks like from 10 Miles North of Nowhere and that, afterall, was the whole point of the trip.