The Joy of Friends
Friends Who Become Family
It’s May of 2015. I am in a very dark and bleak place. Reeling from the diagnosis of my father’s brain cancer. He is starting chemotherapy soon and I can’t get the “prognosis on survival” out of my clouded head and heart. Everyone I know is pouring out sympathy and empathy. A tidal wave of thoughtfulness and kind words.
I sit in my office, sometimes, and research all day on other treatments, alternative therapy and visit message boards for those with or families of patients with CNS Lymphoma. It’s no use. Nothing I am doing is allying the fear and darkness in me. Day after day of monotony and sadness.
It’s early on a Tuesday morning. I’ve just poured my first cup of French Roast and instead of reading “The Wall Street Journal” (as I do every morning to begin the day. Along with the 3 other papers I peruse to ensure I am current with all happenings both financially and politically.), I open Facebook. One scroll of the screen leads to an advertisement for an application. The app that shifted my sadness and jump started my passion once again.
Yonder.
An adverb. “at some distance in the direction indicated; over there”.
A simple word and simple app. It wasn’t political like Facebook. It wasn’t trendy like twitter. It was designed for outdoor junkies and adventurers. I thought in that moment, “Hey, why not…”. I was saturated with daily drivel of Facebook arguments on the President of the USA and quite frankly, didn’t care about it either. This new app was interesting and I did love the outdoors. The summer prior, I had just climbed Half Dome (well, to the sub-dome at least. Those cables got the better of me that year, but that won’t happen this summer) so why not look at what the app had to offer. I opened the Google Play-store, searched up the app and hit “Install”. I selected my screen name (Liongrad2001) and began scrolling through. What I found was an Eden of images, experiences and wonder. I was captivated. My imagination began to run wild. Seeing these images and beauty from all over the world was incredible. Of course, there were the narcissists that pose and selfie themselves to death, but the majority of the images were of nature. There were mountains, waterfalls and beaches. Soaring towers of granite and forests filled with magical trees. A wonderland for nature lovers, hikers and backpackers. I fell in love.
I posted my first image shortly after spend time scrolling through a vast and wondrous sea of photographs. An image of Echo Summit blanketed in the thick, snowy blanket of the past winter. Other photos soon followed and a new addiction was begun. I spent hours scrolling through photos, looking at other peoples trips and filling my head with wanderlust and a list of adventures to embark on. I quickly fell into the routine of this app being the first I opened in the morning and the last one I viewed before bed. I, then, heard of a Facebook group called “Yonder Buds” where the photo and trip sharing continued. I was hooked.
Up until that point, I had a small list of “Friends”. People I actually knew, and occasionally interacted with. Now, with the Yonder Buds, I was making “friends” with other outdoor lovers all over the country. I told my story of how hiking revived my soul in the wake of my father’s diagnosis. How the outdoors mitigated my depression and brought happiness into my soul.
As spring became summer and my boots found their way onto the summit of Mount Tallac, Clouds Rest and North Dome, I began wondering if my newfound Yonder “friends” may want to meet up for a hike? I posted some photos and my GoPro video of my climbs and instantly, was met with interest from other Northern California adventures and hikers. We began to message and text about dates, times and climbs. We settled on October 25, 2015 for a Clouds Rest summit assault. It would be near the end of the season and the potential for snow loomed. We talked, planned and dreamt about our trip. We planned on spending the night in Hetch Hetchy as the other camps along the Tioga Road in Yosemite National Park were closed for the season. As time drew closer, excitement was palpable and intense.
The car ride there was full of discussions about hiking and photography. My passenger, Nathan, was a former co-worker and now, a friend. We talked about photography and me possibly getting into it (He fostered my love, answered question after question, and helped me through my first shoot and wedding.). We arrived at the Hetch Hetchy backpacker’s campground about 3.5 hours later and began to unpack. We found a secluded campsite that faced the Poopenaut Valley and immediately began taking photos. After getting our fill of photographing the valley, we headed back to the car to grab the remainder of our things. As I closed the trunk of my Impala, I saw a car with 3 other folks who looked like the people I knew we were meeting from Yonder.
As an introvert, walking up to random folks and saying “Hi” is not a natural thing for me, but these people were different. They were hikers. They weren’t going to want to talk about work or finance or careers. They were going to want to talk about adventure. Little did I know, how special they would become to me.
I knew them as “Drangonfli Amany” and Jaime. We never got further than that in our messages and texts, so naturally, I asked them if they were part of the Yonder Buds. I found out that Dragonfli’s name was Suny. Along with Suny, her friend Jaime (Hi-May) and her son were there. Suny, Jaime (JB as I now know him) and I bonded instantly. We laughed over trail tales, introduced me to my most favorite hiking breakfast ever; Chorizo, eggs, beans and Plantains (Platanos in Spanish, except I will never be able to say it like them) and talked about the hike the following morning.
We talked late into the night before finally succumbing to sleep. Arising the next day, we ate, packed up and headed out of Hetch Hetchy. We found we were locked in and the gates wouldn’t open until 8 am. We were meeting our other friends at the trailhead in an hour and it would be pushing it to make it there. We ended up being 30 minutes late, but our friends had waited patiently for us to get there. They had driven up from the central valley that morning. Trekking poles ready, boots laced up and backpacks cinched tight, we were off. Miles passed under our boots and cold, thin air of the high Sierra woke us up. We were loving our new group of trail pals. The cloudy sky worried us all as snow was in the forecast and just as we were nearing the final mile where the trail became steep, and the elevation crossed the 9,000 foot mark, it began snowing. Nathan blurted out, “I have a feeling this will stop as we hit the summit. Call me crazy, but I think we will see blue skies.” We all rolled our eyes. No one thought it was possible.
As the climb up the narrow arête commenced, the skies did, in fact, clear to reveal crisp, blue hues. The snow, ceased. We traversed the arête for 20 minutes before finding the termination point which overlooked the Yosemite Valley and Half Dome. No one spoke. We only smiled. An hour passed and hundreds of photographs were taken. We laughed, hugged and enjoyed the time.
This began friendships that evolved into relationships more akin to family. Since that initial trip, we have hiked together on many occasions to see the enormous waterfall of Feather Falls, explored the Alabama Foothills, touched the oldest non-clonal organisms on the planet (the Ancient Bristlecone Pines of the White Mountains of California) and summited the highest peak in the continental United States together. As time passed, another family member was added in and we loved Jesse instantly.
I share so many memories with these 3 people. We share a passion for adventure and altitude. We love the pain that hiking brings and the joy of the summits we chase. These people (along with many other dear friends who are also family) helped me to cope with the fallout of February, 2015. We now have a week dedicated to adventure together every year and one that I spend all year looking forward to. This is the beauty of souls who were strangers, who become friends who become family. I can never truly thank you enough for being who you are.
And so, as this month’s blog comes to a close, I encourage everyone to reach out to your own dear friends and thank them. Thank them for the journey’s you have taken together and for the memories you all share. As we age, our family and friends become even more special to us. We depend on them to help us through times of happiness as well as sadness and pain. We love them and treasure every interaction from Fourth of July BBQ’s to beers on beaches in January to beers at 14,505 feet.
May you all be blessed with strangers who become friends and then friends, who become family.
Namaste, friends.
"Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but pictures, kill nothing but time..."
There are so many dear friends not mentioned here who are family to me. The THENGG crew, especially. Too many memories to count, with countless more to make...
There is No Planet "B"
As spring runs into full swing and begins its journey towards summer, Earth Day comes and goes without much ado, save for folks who truly love the outdoors and this planet. The hikers, backpackers, nature photographers and tree huggers. My kinds of people. In an age where there is so much turmoil and dissent on politics, religion and the color of skin, often times, the place we all call "home" is left far behind in the nether reaches of conversation. Sure, there are those folks with access to the public dais that can make their voice heard or try and bring change, but how effective is it really? I'd have to say that on the whole, we are failing and not being heard. Coal plants continue to fire, raw sewage continues to pour into the veins and arteries of the planet (our rivers, lakes and streams), oil is pumped from the ground in the most unethical (fracking) and fragile (ANWAR) places and plastics are churned out of factories with no consciousness over how they will impact wildlife and its biomes. Scientists are estimating that MILLIONS of species are on the brink of extinction in the next hundred years because of the impact man has made. Something has to be done. As the world watched the Cathedral of Notre Dame burn, and hundreds of millions of dollars (just shy of a BILLION dollars as of today) pour in for the reconstruction of a building made of stone and fallen trees, I wonder, "Why?" Scenes of people hysterically crying over the loss of a building makes me shake my head in disbelief. An 850 year old building constructed with over 13,000 trees. Where were all these tears as rainforests were cut? Where were these tears when the last Northern White Rhino passed on into oblivion (due to the mass poaching of this magnificent animal)? Where are the tears as whales wash up on beaches, starved to death, but with bellies full of plastic? My heart aches for these things. Each story I hear of another animal becoming part of the geological record or watching some ignorant motorist throw a cup from McDonalds out the window onto the shoulder of the road, my soul sighs and tears fall. No time was this more evident than when our Government shut down and staffing at National Parks was halted. Reading story after story of ignorant humans falling trees, discarding rubbish and defecating all over the land ire's my being. During my September 18, 2018 ascent of Mount Whitney, my partners and I witnessed such an act. We were just below Trail Camp at roughly 11,500 feet in the shadow of Wotan's Throne, when two ignorant souls (these people weren't hikers. They were fools. They did not deserve the coveted summit permits they held.) began fighting on the trail about 200 yards below us. Dressed in their leather jackets, Jordan sneakers and lugging plastic jugs of water in their hands, they argued over something trivial, which then spiraled into chest bumping and those water jugs being thrown at each other. Water jugs that were eventually left on the side of the trail. My heart was red with rage. Each member of my crew was feeling that same emotion. So careful are we to never "Leave a trace" when we climb, hike and adventure, and yet, these two imbeciles from Miami Beach, Florida, with their Gucci backpacks and designer pants, give not even a thought on the impact made at high elevation when plastic finds its way onto the ground. I carefully noted the location of the bottle so I could grab it on the way down. As my crew and I rested on the top of Trail Crest at 13,600 feet, the two hooligans reached the saddle as well. "Kill nothing but time" is part of my mantra, but so much of me wanted to gently shove them off the sheer side into Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Park. They were talking to each other about the excitement to fly their drone over the summit (now only a mere 1.9 miles away) and take phones. The only issue is that, flying drones over the summit is completely illegal. Strike two. Rested and refreshed, my crew continued to the summit where this pair of fools were indeed, flying their drone. Polluting the air with noise and sullying the view for the rest of the true hikers. As we carefully ate our lunch and enjoyed ice cold summit beers (taking the utmost care to not allow anything to reach the ground), we once again saw these fools drop wrappers onto the summit. The trash was quickly collected by someone else before anyone of us could rise up and walk over. A day filled with such wonder and good vibration was also filled with the dark side of humans who simply do not deserve to enjoy our ecosystem and natural wonders. As earth day comes and goes, but pressure on our planet continues, I urge and implore all humans to carry a bag with you and collect trash as you see it. To voice your objection at what is happening to our planet. Not just because of the impact it has on our beloved trails, lakes and rivers, but because it is our home. A home that is slowly dying. A home that we will leave to future generations. A home that will be fallow and polluted to the point where it becomes uninhabitable if change is not made. A home no child is fit to live in. As spring turns to summer and we spend more time outside, remember this. Remember this as you contemplate the ride on a jet ski, take an ATV int the mountains or drop some trash onto the ground. You are part of the problem. Are YOU okay with this? We all need to see the error in our impact on this planet. Nothing is coming to save the Earth. There is no ServPro for the Planet. We must do the work ourselves. It must begin soon. Enjoy this gorgeous ball of rock, water and soil while our feet trod it. Make it better for all who are yet to come. Love and light to everyone who reads this. Happy Earth Day! "Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but pictures, kill nothing but time..." Namaste, friends.
Springing into Changes
Warmest wishes to every soul reading and may healing light be centered around you all as we move closer to the Spring Equinox. I hope that each of you finds peace within your soul and radiance in your daily lives. Spring is a fascinating season. It is full of changes and evolution. The closing of winter and movement towards green pastures, absence of snow on mountains and flowers find their way back to the light. Warmer nights and longer days allow for increased time outside, hopefully to be spent on new adventures, favorite trails or simply laying in the soft grass and staring at passing clouds. Allowing your eyes to relax and and mind to daydream. To harness that beauty we all once held onto so tightly as children. To let our imagination take us to where ever it was that made a smile permeate our face and being. To that magical place where too many of us, now, fail to go. Places where daydreams seem like reality and reality is a galaxy away where dinosaurs continue to roam ancient planets millions of years before the advent of iPhones, Tesla's and Wheaties boxes. Changes. They occur in our everyday life in so many ways. Granola or Muesli on my plain, Greek yogurt? Blue shirt or white shirt? Freeway or scenic way? Mountains or Ocean? (By the way, the answer to that question is always, Mountains...) Changes can be life altering, or life bettering, or both, or neither. They aren't something to fear, but quite opposite, something to engage and learn to love. They offer us new ways of experiencing life and maybe even exposing to us, what our soul's purpose or passion is. It can be beautiful and terrifying all at once. We choose how to face it and how to react. I'm a daydreamer at heart. A poet, writer and photographer (which I hope you have come to the conclusion of as this IS a photography business and website...). I love to stare out the window and think. To sit quietly and allow my mind to wander. To see where it roams and ventures. Watching as storms and sunny days pass and thinking deeply as music plays in the background. Turning my gaze from that same window to the photograph (the same one which leads off this entry) which faces my desk and beckons me to once again relive that day on the summit of Clouds Rest as I gaze down on the Yosemite Valley far below while watching humans ascend the legendary cables on Half Dome. The stark contrast of green conifers against cold, gray granite. Poetry in nature. Misty clouds which kiss mountains all around as snow melts from their acmes. The gentle hum of the wind and earth as everything seems so perfect. In that same moment, I am whisked back to reality and to the world of School District Finance. Six years ago I left my job as the Audit Manager and resident Certified Fraud Examiner of a CPA firm here in Sacramento to become a Chief Financial Officer of a School District. Change has once again, found its way to me as I prepare to leave this position to focus more on my passions; my daughters, my photography, my writing and of course, hiking. I am an artist at heart and change is something all artists love. The future holds some many unknowns, so many changes as yet undiscovered. So many other opportunities to grow in career and bank accounts, but as this hippy soul ponders all that, is it really important? It is to an extent, but not allowing it to govern life, would be my response to all those who answer with an adamant, "YES". An unknown for me as we near the entry into the 4th month of this 2019 year, is the completion date for my long dreamt about, book. A book that was born in my freshman year of high school with a simple "What am I?" piece of poetry. A love that grew through years and experiences. Writing poetry about changes in life, evolution of my being and growth into the human I now currently am. A love that spans over 1,500 separate pieces and daydreams. And yet, none of those pieces will fall between the bindings of a book with the blurb about my journey in the bio. Interesting? I think so. Titled? Nothing has stoked the muse in my mind as of yet, but the book will be themed around a prior blog post, Conquering Mountains and Esteem. The struggle of the mind, body and spirit of a person who lacks confidence and self doubt. If you've made it this far, I have a question/suggestion; Would this be of interest to you and if not, maybe spend a few moments reading prior months blogs and reconsider before you flick on your favorite Netflix show. Still not interested, I totally get it. Let me know through an email or note below. Changes. Changing careers, residences and opening one's soul to reveal the innermost thoughts to readers. That's what this blog and book are about. The ability to see and love life in its ever changing field of vision. To embrace it and run headlong into the unknown to experience the beauty of what things could become. As this entry ends, I would love for everyone to take a moment to ask yourself what change you would love to make and how it would allow your life to be filled with more peace and passion. Allow your mind to jump into a daydream and maybe give the daydream some thought. Smile and engage the daydream. When your focus returns, what will you do about that daydream? Happy spring and may the peace, love and light of this universe fill your souls with joy, hope and adventure. "Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but pictures, kill nothing but time..." Namaste, friends.
Depression and Mountain Therapy
Love, light and healing peace to all souls who have ventured here to see what this "Hiking Poet" has written for February of 2019. Those who know me and have spent time around me, know that I am not a fan of odd numbered years or the month of February. The reasons are many and the time is short, and as such, I will not rant on the need to cancel this month from calendars... Recently, a cousin of mine passed on and entered the "Great Unknown". I am not here looking for sympathy or cheer, but rather to reflect on death and passing on. In truth, no tears fell from my eyes and no daggers struck my heart. I did not feel sadness or grief. Am I a monster? I don't think so. Some relationships, even when they are bound with similar blood, just don't take hold of the soul. So many of us fail to form connections (and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that) with family members. Souls recognize each other by the way that they feel, and not by the blood which courses in veins. This was the case for me. As my dry tear ducts sat and listened to the words over phone of her death, my mind immediately began to once again, reflect, on my own life. She was 37 years old. Shy of her 38th birthday by less than 5 months. Life was cut short by disease and a failing body. Death makes me pause no matter the age of the human vessel. It should cause reflection in us all. As I lay in bed that Monday night listening to what I remember her voice sounding like, I drifted off to sleep, and as usual, nightmares. Waking the next morning, I felt the heaviness I feel when the car door shuts after a hiking adventure. I feel the black cloud tightening its grip around my heart and the sadness forcing its way into my mind. I've felt this feeling many, many times before. I know what it is, and what it is not. I do not need a lab coat wearing figure to tell me. Depression. I've never been formally diagnosed, but I have done the research. I've taken the diagnostic readings, tests and lengthy surveys about thoughts, moods and feelings. There is no other answer. I'm sure there are folks reading this saying, "But there are medications out that can help you treat this. Things you can take to alleviate the crevasses and darkness." Truth is, I don't want to, and I won't. My boots and my camera provide me the solace I need. My boots carry me to lofty peaks and hidden trails that my shutter captures and then writes to memory, images that bring comfort. Therapy can be found out there. It does not have to come in a bottle from a Kaiser Pharmacist. It comes from inward reflection and knowing what the soul needs to do to heal. It's that voice in us all that not many listen to. The voice which screams to do what you love because work will always be there. As I poured myself a cup of steaming and aromatic Jasmine tea, I explained to my daughters what happened to my cousin. They looked inquisitively at me and asked question after question. Some I could answer, others I could not, and others, Alexa provided some assistance with. Not once did a tear fall. Not once did my voice quiver. Not that I am afraid to cry in front on them, but because of that dark cloud hanging over my head. Lunches made for each of us, we hopped into my Subaru Forester and picked up their friend from down the street. The whole time my mind was racing. "I'm 40. I'm aging. I haven't seen everything I want to see. I have a massive amount of work to do today. I really don't want to meet with my construction team today to go over the mundane and irritating things that come along with $6.0 million construction projects." All three doors closed almost simultaneously. I sat there for a brief second as Journeys "Don't Stop Believing" played on the speakers. I smiled. I turned the car home and couldn't get there fast enough. Quickly throwing my backpack together and getting out of my gray suit, I donned my base layer silk shirt, a comfy layer over that, pulled on my trusty Prana pants and headed for the garage again. Ice ax: Check. Crampons: Check. Trekking Poles: Check. Snacks: Check. The car was loaded, HR knew I wouldn't be in today, and I was off. The black cloud today was just too much, but the mountains sing so sweetly to my ears, and like John Muir, I went. 90 minutes later I am staring at the gear in my trunk as I am strapping on my knee high gaiters. Emerald Bay in Lake Tahoe is directly behind me. Maggie's Peaks were facing me and I was determined to climb them. The first quarter mile of the trail carries you through the Bayview Campground; a bustling place in the summer months, now a quiet place covered in winters snowy blanket. I reached the trailhead a little out of breath from the post holing done to get back there. No other soul followed me. I was alone. I heard no one or nothing except the wind. I was happy. No traces of that cloud remained. Beginning the climb up to Maggie's Peak North, I post-holed again, through thigh deep snow. After another 100 yards, I decided to turn and trek out to Cascade Falls instead. I would not get close to the summit at this rate and I wanted to ensure I would see beauty today. My mind needed it. My heart demanded it. My soul longed for it. My depression couldn't handle it. It would flee into darkness at the sight of my beloved mountains. Halfway there on the trail, the ice sheet began to get thicker on the northern facing trail. My Black Diamond Crampons were going to earn their keep. Strapped on and back to climbing, I took in the gorgeous views high above the northern shores of Fallen Leaf Lake. Continuing on, I passed gnarly trees laden with snow and ice, looked at tracks of all different animals and snapped many photos. Healing was happening as it so often does while my boots rhythmically move along forested pathways. A minor slip and fall due my carelessness and not having my ice axe in hand, led to a puncture wound from my crampons on my inner thigh. I laughed in the moment, but realized how this could have gone wrong. I reflected again on my cousin. My favorite trail medicine besides Vitamin "I" (Ibuprofen) is Super Glue. Applied to a non-bleeding wound, it seals and keeps it safe so I could continue on. Reaching the terminus of my journey, I found a rock to sit on and meditate. Hanging my prayer flags between two trees, I offered my thanks to the spirits of the mountains for safe passage, the angels who watch over me and the universe for blessing me with for all which is in front of my eyes. The wind seemed to roar as my meditation finished and goosebumps appeared on my skin. A lightness shrouded me and comforted me. Only blue skies and beauty was seen and felt. This was a trip well worth extra work the day after. I hope all who read this know that depression is a real thing. Grief and pain can sink in for no reason. They grip and take hold of your mind, heart and spirit. It is in these times, to engage your passion. To follow your soul. To lay under the stars and dream. To do whatever it is you do to feel at peace. Daily routine will always be there in the morning. You, however, may not be. Grab your dreams and go. Seek your adventure and follow your heart no matter what. Free your soul and allow magic to take place. "Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but pictures, kill nothing but time..." Namaste, friends, and may the love, light and peace of this universe find its way to your soul...
A New Year and a Reason to be Thankful
Happy New Year to all souls reading this! It is my sincerest hope you and your loved ones experience joy, love and happiness throughout the course of the year. As we move into a new year, we can take the time to evaluate the past and look forward to the future with a negative or positive mindset. Live for the positive. Live in the present as much as you can, the moment. Too often, we think and think and think about the future (I am very guilty of this; as well as dwelling on the past...) and simply forget how to love the moment we are in. Originally, this year was set to begin with a blog about religion, but as I was flipping through photographs from 2018, I came upon the one shown above. I can't help but smile every time I look at it. Those two little girls hold my heart. We never fail to have a good time when we are hanging out at home in a fort which they constructed out of blankets, sheets, towels and kitchen chairs, or when we are trekking on trails high in the Sierra Nevada. It wasn't long ago that I thought children weren't important to me. As a college aged young man and summer swim coach, I would often think about the future and children. Spending every summer day coaching and teaching children to swim formed an opinion in my mind that I would never want to deal with these atomic balls of energy on a daily basis. No. I liked my quiet time, vacations and disposable income how it was. The same thoughts occupied my thoughts as season passes at Heavenly Ski Resort in South Lake Tahoe were renewed year after year. And then, things changed. They changed in a way that changed me. I have two daughters. Those daughters make me smile. They make me laugh. The love I have for them resonates on a level deeper than my love of the High Sierra or my time alone on any mountain I climb. They are quite simply wonderful. As they were babies, I wanted them to grow quickly. I wanted to hear them talk, see them walk and listen to them daydream like only a child can do. I look back at those wishes and smile. I don't regret the wishes. I love the age they are at now. No more diapers, midnight feeding and turning my home into a fortress akin to a Fort Knox. I love how they are self sufficient and how we can dialogue about just about anything. I love asking them about their dreams and thoughts. I love watching them hold their cameras as we venture all around the Sierra. I love hearing their incessant chatter at bedtime and listening to them sneak into each others rooms to come up with whatever deviant little plan they are conspiring on. They always make me smile. This summer, a very close buddy of mine decided to take our daughters (he has two as well, but one still isn't quite ready to lace up her boots and wander) into the wild of the Sierra just outside of Kirkwood, CA. We packed up his Toyota Tundra on a sweltering morning in July with all our packs and set out east on highway 50. The sounds from the back of the truck were a flashback to youth and trips in the back of my folks station wagons. The shrieking of voices excited about an adventure while singing Bon Jovi's "Livin on a Prayer" as only a kid can do. Who are we kidding though? Jesse and I joined right in and sang with them. We sang that song over and over and over. We sang as the miles melted away and we turned the truck onto highway 88 heading toward Hope Valley. We sang as the truck roared along past Luther Past and into the Aspen lined roads of the high sierra. We sang as we pulled into Kirkwood Ski Resort for cheeseburgers and Gatorade. After our hunger had been sated, we once again hopped into the truck and drove the 10 minutes to the trailhead for Lake Margaret. The kids were using their microfiber cloths to remove dust and film off the fixed lenses of their cameras (a Christmas present from dad that previous December). They were happy and their voices soothed my soul as they laced up their boots and strapped their sleeping pads to their packs. With our packs on our backs and cameras in our hands, the dads gave the order to "hit the trail!". Off we went with discussions about which animals leave the biggest scat being the subject of the first 30 minutes. The weather was warm at 8,000 feet above sea level and my Keens felt perfect on my feet as I watched my girls clicking their shutters and showing each other and me, the images. It was sublime. There was no stress. No worry about summiting a peak or traversing a tricky mountainside scree slide. Nope. Just a great trail and lots of laughs. The miles melted into that magnificent Sierra afternoon. Blue skies and Stellars Jays. Incense Cedars and Ponderosa Pines. As my fingers dance about the keyboard, the smile on my face returns. How I love those images in my mind of that trip. Hiking with my "Hiking Family" brings me such happiness, and hiking with my daughters, does the same. Nothing else matters in that instance. Not work, budget stress, financial statements, economic trends and GDP. Only the laughter that echoes atop the granite peaks as I watched my best friend pull his kid out of a stream that she leaned to far over the bank on. Hearing the squeals of excitement as the three kids plunge into an Alpine Lake for the first time as the chilling nature of the water freezes them instantly. Watching them venture off up a nearby mountain to explore with a few other kids they met at the lake. Jesse and I sit by the water, basking in the warm afternoon and smile as we wonder what discussion they are having as they pull themselves up the side of the mountain on Manzanita branches and hand holds in the exposed granite. These are the memories that I hold dear. These are times I am so thankful for those two little girls. Thankfulness. They may be growing and one day, I will bid them luck on whatever journey their souls are destined to take, but I will cherish these videos that play inside my cerebral cortex. I am thankful for the light and love they have brought to my life. I look forward to the adventures we will share on trails and everywhere else as we trod into the new year full of hope and light. There is never a day that we walk on this planet, that thankfulness should be ignored. That is my hope for all who read this. This month, I hope that this blog encourages each of you to look back and find one thing you can be thankful for everyday. I am thankful for so many things and will continue to add things to my list. Thankfulness for this life and for the treasures found in it. Thankfulness for past lives and lessons learned as well as lives to come and more to learn. I wish you all happiness, love, light, peace and wonder as we venture headlong into 2019. May your journeys be safe, may your mind be open and may you have room in your heart for new adventure. Be thankful, be grateful, be wild, stay wild, stay in the moment and laugh. Now, get outside and create an adventure! "Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but pictures, kill nothing but time..." Namaste, friends, and may the love, light and peace of the New Year radiate in your soul...
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