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Rock 'N Roll

Reaching the top of Forrester Pass was a triumph over altitude and relentless switchbacks.
But the way down had its own host of challenges.

The altitude of Forrester Pass is about 13,200, according to www.trailspace.com.
That's not bad for a girl from Wichita Falls -- altitude 946 feet, according to www.lone-star.net.
That day at the pass, I was feeling every foot of the 13,200 feet up there in the cold with bearded mountain dude talking cheerfully about his coming marathon hike.
After a too-short rest, my group started down the other side. The trail down was like none other I'd ever encountered or would again on the trip.
It was full of rocks, boulders, pebbles, etc.
My old hiking boots were letting the strain through the worn rubber on the bottom, plus I often had to hoist my 5-foot-2-inch frame up with my short legs, leveraging from boulder to boulder.
Awkward and scary don't even begin to describe things.
Sometimes I even had to jump from one rock to another, and I'm no boulder hopper.
Then there were the tiny pebbles that slid out from under me without notice.
Scraped knees were a price the way down demanded.
But the hardest part came at the very bottom.
Spotting my trailmates gave me new energy, and I almost leapt from rock to rock.
I could see small streams and pools of water below. Flat rocks invited me to rest easy.
Then came the abomination.
I saw it while still several paces away from my friends, faithfully waiting for their slowest hiking companion.
Chris was reclining on his back on a big comfortable rock. (Yes, they do exist on the trail.) His hat was down over his eyes.
He was very quiet.
He was napping.
While I was fighting the rocky monsters above, he'd been catching trailside shuteye.
I was sad but forgave him for this outrage.
After all, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.

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