Hiking at Pinnacles: The art of being THERE

Good grief, I wandered off and forgot to finish blogging about my one and only week's vacation this summer! Where on earth did summer go? It's only mid-September and we've already had a first frost.
The summer flew by but I'm determined to record the rest of my week in that mosquito-free paradise known as...California.
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After watching the waves crash on the beach of Carmel by the Sea and fade away with the cloud-covered sunset, Clem and I drove in darkness toward Pinnacles National Park. I had hoped to stay at least in some sort of building but my adventurous friend was hellbent on getting as close to the Park entrance as possible that very night to maximize our time on the trail the next day.

We made it to a remote and desolate town called Soledad, located near a maximum security prison on the flattest landscape I'd seen since leaving the Canadian prairies. At a 24 hour McDonald's, we charged our phones and made good use of internet access, then resigned ourselves to sleeping in the car. I never realized California could be so cold at night in July. We had one fleece blanket between us, which Clem gallantly gave to me as I stretched out on the back seat while he scrunched himself awkwardly behind the wheel, one leg hooked over the shift stick. Towards dawn, I awoke to find him shivering, so I gave him the blanket for at least some warmth before our appointed departure at 6:00 a.m.

Woulda been more comfy to sleep here....

...than scrunched up in the car.

We were at the Park entrance by 7:30 a.m. on the nose, and on the trail by about 8. By then the morning fog had dissipated and the sun was already mounting. After tending to sunscreen and water, we hit the trail.



High Peaks Trail was our chosen route. Clem's agenda: get high. So we did. Up, up, and up. Each corner we turned yielded amazing views of rocks and vistas beyond imagination. Then we turned another corner and the view was even more amazing. We had to fight our camera-happy instincts to cover ground so we wouldn't still be on the trail after dark.

My friend and hiking mentor Debora Voth once remarked as we walked through the verdant forest of the West Coast Trail, that we should remember this beautiful place so that we can return to it in our memories when we're at work imprisoned in our offices. She didn't say 'imprisoned' but that's how I think of it. The idea is to remember that there are still beautiful places out there where we once stood and walked and saw with our own eyes. I feel imprisoned when I can't physically BE in these places. There's more to life than concrete and glass, monitors and keyboards, ugly carpeting and office chairs. So I always take a photo of myself situated in these places so I never forget: I was THERE.

Clem being there.

Next...Climbing Things.