View from the Top

10,068 feet above sea level.
That's the sort of place you'll end up when you make assumptions and don't ask questions.

When two friends of ours invited us for an early morning hike last Saturday, we blindly agreed. Mister B always loves an adventure in the woods and I can never pass up a legitimate opportunity to eat trail mix. What was there to second guess?

Apparently, a lot. We didn't realize the hike to summit Mt Baldy, the highest point in all of the San Gabriel range, would take 8 hours of our day and put 11.6 miles on the soles of our shoes. (Soles that in my case, were hiking sneakers from the little boys' section at Target that I had bought the night before. I'm forever grateful for that $25 pair of traction, lemme tell ya.)

There were points in the hike/walk/sloth-climb that were rough. There were points that were really, really rough. But somehow, by the grace of God and buckwheat granola, we made it to the top. As we sat above the clouds eating sandwiches and catching our breath, it was nearly impossible not to marvel at the wonder of the earth rolled out below. It was refreshing to feel so raw, knowing every fiber of my being had been put to its fullest use. 

Isn't it a bit unsettling how rare those moments are nowadays?

You can barely see it, but that tiny squiggle of a line near the left middle is Devil's Backbone, the 7.8 mile path we took on our way down. The name is self-explanatory.