The first day of autumn was appropriate, signaling the transition from summer to winter.
In this neck of the woods, that means cloudy, grey and occasional rain. Which we received. In spades.
But to make it even more real, I loaded Skinny up in the car and we drove to the mountain. It’s not that far, since we can see it from our living room. Only about 25 minutes to the top. But what a world of difference.
Down here in the valley, it was 60F (15C) and cloudy. Up there, 40F (5C) and in the clouds, with occasional rain. Wet, cold and windy.
A few miles past the top of the mountain on a narrow dirt road, there’s a small nondescript intersection of dirt roads. Just off this intersection crosses the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT), a hiking trail that runs from Mexico to Canada, or Canada to Mexico, if you like to think that way is downhill. And yes, there are people that think going from north to south equates to going downhill.
Quite a few stories, quite a few adventures on that foot-wide stretch of dirt that runs some 2,663 miles.
If you look to the light path between the two distant trees, that’s the northward bound section of the PCT that runs along the south side of Mount Ashland.
The best part was that, regardless of the weather, a father drove his young children up there to skip along this stretch of the path. Visibility was pretty poor due to the fog, but the laughter carried for a long way.