It’s a scramble up the mountain behind our house. There are no well scouted-out switch-backs for measured steps. The path just heads straight up through knee deep sagebrush, and then turns to loose gravel past various outcroppings of granite. I suppose since there is no great variation along the short climb to the top, I tend to take it at a pace that is rather too quick. I am grateful that finally the steep and rocky trail twists a bit through a thick and ancient grove of Ponderosas. I rest and breathe under the shade of a gnarled pine tree....
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