Mt Whitney Zone Forums Trip Reports My weekend...

I sought a place of quiet solitude.
I sought a place of peace.
I sought a place where I could be alone.
I sought a place apart.


I wanted a place to rest my bones.
I wanted a place to think.
I wanted a place to recuperate.
I wanted a place to be.


See what I see.
The snow-capped mountains, dressed in their white cloaks of crystalline decadence standing like centurions on either side of the freeway, slowly fade into the rearview mirror as the deserts' quilt of tans, browns, blacks, and greens appear in the windshield. The azure blue sky, completely clear of even the wispiest of clouds flows out above me like a silken sheet. The heat warming the earths surface sends shimmer visions dancing through the air, teasing my eyes.


Hear what I hear.
The hum of the tires over the black asphalt sings a song familiar to my ears. When the car stops, the absence of the tire song is replaced by the clicks and ticks of the cooling engine.... after a minute that, too, is gone. Stepping out of the car the absence of manmade sound leaves my ears exposed to the complete vacuum of the desert. No sounds can be heard at first to my city noise deadened ears and I wonder if this is what it would be like to be deaf. Slowly my ears adjust to the lack of noise and a bird can be heard... a lizard in the brush... the whispering shift of dirt and sand.


Smell what I smell.
The scent of highway warmed engine fades and the perfume of the desert pervades my olfactory glands. The smells of pungent sage and spicy creosote drape over the desert like an embrace in the windless air. My passage stirs those scents, as well as the musk of desert sand, like small whirlpools of decadence rising up to dance around me before settling back to the deserts floor.

Feel what I feel.
There is no wind. The air sits lightly against my body, caressing my skin like the softest of fabrics. The suns warmth saturates deeply... soaking into my body, warming me to my core. Closing my eyes I tip my face skyward, becoming for a moment a sun-worshiper.The absolute solitude of the moment is almost overwhelming.

For that moment, I am the only person in the world.

. . . and then the gentle quiet and wondrous solitude went straight to hell when Gary and John pulled out the beer and Laura and Jim opened the scotch! Par-tee! Oh - I guess you weren't referring to the campground . . .

Very nice narrative Chris - the soul of a poet is exposed! It captures many of the reasons I keep going back to DV in the winter. Solitude and quiet are very, very easy to find in this place.

LOL... Gary... thankfully, while I wouldn't trade my moment of solitude for anything, there are enough moments in my life that I can fully embrace the ones like those that you guys tore up with the joyous noise of life too! ;-)