I was having coffee with some friends this morning when they suggested I should tell some of my previous experiences I’ve had on my PCT hikes and other adventures I’ve had to entertain you, my friends. So I said why not.
Weather they entertain you, or not, here’s one of those experiences:
The Native Americans see all mountains as a spiritual place and I can understand why they do. To me, Mountains have a special place in my heart as well.
As I reflect back on past adventures of climbing and viewing this mountain and the benevolence is has. I will tell you one of the experiences of viewing Mount Shasta.
About 20 miles south of the PCT Trail Head on Hwy 66 where Kyle and I started our hike. I sat up camp on the side of a ridge.
Before sliding into my sleeping bag for the night I hiked to the top of the ridge. The sun was sitting when I reached the top. There she was in all her splendor, Mount Shasta. She was dressed in “apian glow” a sight that almost took my breath away. I sat down and had a meditation moment.
As I looked around I could see the lights of the town of Yreka, California in the valley floor. After relishing the vista I had just seen, I walked slowly back to camp.
On this hike I didn’t bring a tent, I brought my new bive sack. I slid into my sleeping bag inside the bive, it felt good after a hard days hike of 25 miles. I also found out one thing you should NOT do when you’re in the bive sack. And that is fart. The entrapment of all that stench has only one place to escape, and that’s where the opening for your head. The stench was so bad It must have been corked up inside me for 20 years. There’s only one thing to do in that case, to unzip the bive, unzip the sleeping bag as fast as you can and escape from that horrible smell. Making sure the smell had disappeared into the atmosphere, I slid back into my sleeping bag.
I had sat up camp between two mountain hemlocks which were approximately 100 feet apart. The sun had set and there was a full moon, so no star gazing tonight.
As I lay there reminiscing the view of Mount Shasta and other day’s events, I moved my feet in a circular motion. To my surprise a big horned owl swept down from the tree on my left side. The owl was aiming straight for my moving feet. So I stopped moving my feet and the owl veered upward and landed in the tree to my right. I started moving my feet again and the owl swept down again at my moving feet. I stopped moving my feet and again the owl veered upward and landed in the tree to my left. We continued to play this little game of cat (owl) and mouse for about 20 minutes before the owl flew off else where in search for dinner. This interaction with a wild animal as with the wild animals I’ve had the pleasure to meet, are always special.
Then it was time to relax and get a good nights sleep and dream of another adventurous day.
If you are headed north on Interstate 5, look up at Mount Shasta. You will see the shape of a heart on it’s southern flank.
Here’s a poem I wrote:
From the heart (Mt Shasta)
There is a mountain I love to go to,
Like a woman she stands so beautiful and true,
All dressed in white like an angel she is,
When the sun shines on her, she amazes you,
And like a beautiful woman it keeps tempting you,
Climb me young one you’ll never regret,
It will fill your heart with a spiritual glow,
You will keep smiling because you know,
There is no other woman that loves you so,
From the heart the climb is so spiritual,
When you reach the top there is no rival.