"Guardian of Mt. Whitney"

Note:  His mentor used to think this was his very best piece of art.

From the poem, "Come Closer, My Son"

My trip through God's country, unfortunately, was almost at its end, but as I continued my southeast trending journey of reflection, introspection, and discovery, along the crest of the Sierras, climbing ever higher, with each switch back, the goal being the lung searing top of Mt. Whitney, I knew, just knew, that somewhere up ahead I would find the perfect tree that I had been looking for the entire way.  My tired muscles, and over-extended joints, and almost empty food bag, hoped that I would find it right by the trail, preferably right below the trail, but that was not to be, as my "eye" saw something promising, above the trail, 100 or so yards away (but at least the trip back would be downhill!).  So I walked uphill, across territory that certainly no one else had ever walked on since the beginning of time!  
 

I approached this grand tree reverently, quietly, with utmost respect.  "Is it OK," I asked, from afar, "if I capture your image?"  The wind blowing through its starkly beautiful limbs, under the incredibly blue sky, told me "Yes," so I set up my tripod.  "Can I take your image from here," I asked, moving closer.  "Or from here,?" moving closer yet. 
 

That grand old tree, perhaps never fully seen, by humans, kept whispering, “Come closer, my son!"  And I did! 
 

Finally, I succumbed to its urgings fully, and lay down atop its still strongly embedded roots, with my head next to its bark less trunk, its branches just over head!  I forgot during the love making that ensued, that I wanted to capture the tree's ultimate essence, but afterwards, I did, and  I proudly present for you, "Guardian of Mt. Whitney." 
 

Purple Hat  

April 29, 2007 

"Sequoia & Valhalla" 

From the poem "On Day 29." 
 

I was on day 29 of a 30 day backpacking trip, which I’ll add was, and still is, a PR for length of trip, and also for grunge factor! 
 

I was down to the last 3 exposures of my last roll of film.  As my friend Joe, Joe Bag, Joe Bag A Donuts always said that you want 1 shot of film for that incredible once in a lifetime shot of whatever, I had 2 to take, and so I raised my standards so high that it took an act of Congress to even think about how nice something looked.  I’d seen Valhalla Rock on the map; very El Cap like with its contours printed in one thick line. 
 

Now I could just see it up ahead, and I thought about doing a route on it, and then I heard them:  climbers, baying  their universal song: “ON BELAY,” “ROCK,” “WATCH ME HERE,” “OFF BELAY.”  Their voices traveled really well down and across the valley to me, and I thought how jarring it might be if you had to listen to that all day long during each day of the summer and fall.  And then I saw the tree up above me, and it was perfect for it showed the classic struggle a Sequoia has with the elements, being more dead than alive.  Does this tree that will probably outlive all of us, curse its fate in having to listen to all of that yelling until the first snow fall of each  winter?  Probably, as I heard a climber yell “FALLING!” 
 

When I realized that by doing a climbing move or two, and endangering my commitment to never, ever, under any circumstances, break any more of my bones, and possibly my life, to my balance, that I could have the tree and the rock, or “Sequoia & Valhalla” in one image, I went for it! 
 

Purple Hat  

April 29,  2007