Greetings and it is my hope you are enjoying a wonderful and calming fall season!

First off, I would like to thank anyone and everyone who read the September blog.  I was humbled by the number of folks who took the time to read it and hopefully, enjoy, the content and reliving the journey to the top of Mount Whitney with me and wonderful friends of mine who experienced the trek with me.  Almost 1,000 people opened and read the account of the trip and I am truly thankful for you taking time out of your day to read what I wrote.  Thank you, from the bottom of my soul.

This month is the part of fall that those of us who love this season are likely the happiest.  The brilliant colors on trees and the crisp air that gives our skin goosebumps in the morning and in the evening.  I love the fall more than any other season.  Having a chance to hike during this time is by far, my favorite.  Recently, I once again made the trek from the foothills outside of Sacramento, CA up to Hope Valley, CA to photograph the Aspens and their colors.  As always, they did not disappoint.  It took a little longer this year as a storm hit the area two days prior to my visit and knocked down a lot of the brightly colored leaves.  Any day I can spend with my boots on, backpack cinched tight and camera in hand, is a good day.

Photographs from 

As I sat on my couch this past Saturday night watching "Everest" for the 20th or so time, my thoughts turned to the trails as they so often do.  As I was relaxing with my feet up, every once in a while turning my gaze to my shelf of books on hiking, philosophy and metaphysics, one of my favorite quotes from the movie came on and is as follows; "I'm climbing Mount Everest... because I can... because to be able to climb that high and see that kind of beauty that nobody ever sees, it'd be a crime not to."

Now, pause for a moment, and reread that.  

Every hiker, outdoors person and landscape photographer can appreciate that.  If you are none of those, I suggest you become one, if not all.  The beauty we see at elevation (no matter what type of elevation) is immeasurable.  People talk about the magic of nature and its ability to heal and calm.  It is so true.  Barefoot therapy is becoming more and more popular, yet isn't is just a retreat to our own childhoods?  Running wild and free in the backyard playing football, capture-the-flag under the midnight summer moon and drinking cold hosewater as droplets fall onto our feet matting down the grass and making us laugh uncontrollably.

The smiles present on hikers faces as we climb that mountain elate and mystify at the same time.  We dream of the loftiest peaks and chat about our next adventure as we plod up steep grades of dirt, scree and talus.  No matter how hard our legs and lungs labor, true hikers always find a breath to say "Hey!  How are ya?" to hikers who are descending.  We capture the outdoors on camera phones and DSLR's alike.  We share our photos and memories to all those who share our passion.  We keep trail logs, old maps and dogeared books which memorialize our passion.  We read and reread them constantly and remember our steps.  

We smile.

We always smile, even after a hike destroys our body to a point where Ibuprofen is like Pez for pain.  

Pain.  Mental and Physical.

A friend of mine recently posed a great question on coming home after a hike and the depression/anxiety/sadness he experiences and if others experienced this as well.  His question found its way to the realm of Facebook (as all great philosophical and moral points do...) to ask a large group of hikers.  Upon, reading this, I was struck with a sense of, "Hey!  That's not just me that experiences it..." thought.  I've always called it "Hiker Hangover", but maybe this is a thing?  Maybe its so much more than just not being out in nature?  

As "Everest" continues to play on my Vizio, I find my mind contemplating this thought, until almost like the universe decided to intervene, I heard another of my favorite quotes from the movie.  "When I'm at home I just got this big, black cloud following me. You know, like a depression? And when I'm out here on a mountain, any mountain... It's just like it's a cure. I feel like I'm reborn."

That feeling of being reborn.  

I totally get that.  The way the wind blows as you crest a saddle and you can see a grand panorama of valley below.  The pain melts away to nothing as you stare out over miles and miles of wilderness.  The smile that follows and the deep sigh your soul makes.  It is truly, a thing of beauty.  

And then, when you hear the sound of the road as your near your car later in the day.  Your mind turns to your office, chores, laundry and traffic.  That black cloud looms.

Society.  Returning to a place we all have to be in order to go where we want to be.  Those mountains.  Those waterfalls.  That quiet unassuming meadows that yields the most tremendous view of a sow and her cubs.  That place of serenity as our boots glide so effortlessly over the ground. 

The doors to the car shut and the black cloud grows larger.  It diminishes a bit, though, as we bite into the double cheeseburger, burrito or pizza that celebrates hours of calorie burning exhilaration. 

It is a struggle to come down from a high like this, but we do it.  We dream of the next hike and adventure.  We do it, because we love it.  It fuels our soul and gives us purpose.  Why else would we work until we are 67 to only live 11 years more?  We fill in our weekends with epic treks up 14,000 foot peaks as well as taking our kids on a 3 mile hike to see a gorgeous alpine lake.  It's all the same.  We do it because its there, and because we love it.  

Embrace your hike, no matter the difficulty.  Find your way out of the "After Hike Depression" by taking a moment to relish in how truly amazing the adventure was, and how amazing the next will be.  I tell myself this all the time.

May you all be blessed with love, light and healing peace.  Find your way to a trail and experience the healing energy of what a good hike can do.  

 "Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but pictures, kill nothing but time..."

Namaste, friends.