Sierra Reflections 2011

Wrapped in the cozy warmth of a down bag I’m jolted awake from a deep slumber - nature calls. The silence is shattered by the rustle of my sleeping bag. The sweet aroma of the mountain fills the air, and that ever-present biting crisp air on your cheeks! The zipper moans as you free yourself, then the struggle to find your wool sweater, pants, and shoes to stumble into the brisk morning air. Another zipper whines as you crawl to escape the protection of your mountain shelter. Quietly . . . do not disturb is the invisible sign worn by your fellow campers.

Photo: Robert Weldon

Darkness surrounds you, it's early morning, late summer. It’s tranquil, except for the soft gurgle of the trout stream that lulled you to sleep the night before. Finally - clear weather, the rains have stopped; millions of stars twinkle like tiny sparkling diamonds against a pitch-black sky. Orion, the hunter is clearly visible in the eastern sky; careful inspection you can see the nebula glow. It's day three of my first wilderness-backpacking trip in the High Sierra Mountains’ (elevation 10,500 feet) 20 miles south west of Bishop California camped at Dingleberry Lake.

Will it rain today? We need to break camp. There is no rush, time on the mountain passes at a glacial pace. Has it really only been three days? The deluge of rain, sleet, and snow on the high peaks is but a memory now. However this morning, it's cold, crisp, and clear. Scanning the pristine heavens the clarity suggests another beautiful day in the Sierra Mountains.

Robert emerges from hibernation; his tent frozen, shaking off the cold he says in a whisper, “Lets' shoot the sunrise on these peaks that surround the campsite.” As Brendan sleeps, we make our way to the lakes edge, setup the camera and tripod, then sit back and experience the magic of the mountains as the morning sun rises on the peaks. Softly the blackness fades away and the very tip of the mountains begin to glow. What a glorious experience.

This morning is the culmination of an adventure that began Friday, September 9, 2011 with an invitation to join Robert Weldon and Brendan Laurs on a late summer wilderness expedition. My response was immediate, “Yes I’m in!” I was ready . . . well I thought so. Just a few months before with the anticipation of such a trip I had purchased a backpack. As we began to collect our gear for the trip, I proudly pulled my new backpack from the garage, Brendan’s immediate response, “Not with that tiny pack, we need to share food, cooking gear, tent, and supplies. We’ll stop in Bishop, you can rent a pack.”

Simultaneous thoughts begun to whirl through my mind; anticipation, confusion, apprehension, what will we need to pack, how much will we carry? Three days, will I be able to pack the necessary load and keep up? With a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Robert says, “No problem, its easy - you’ll see.” So, with that assurance we set off. The truck is packed to the hilt with equipment, food, and supplies for our weekend adventure in the Sierras’.

Yes, this was a glimpse of my first wildness adventure – upon reflection I’m filled with an inner peace and feeling of accomplishment. An experience I’ll treasure for a lifetime.

So, the next time you’re presented with the opportunity to backpack the Sierra’s, with seasoned travelers don’t hesitate, say, “yes I’m in!” You too will be exhilarated by the experience.

“We don’t remember days, we remember moments.” - Cesare Pavese

Comments

We Need Awe More Than Ever

In this episode, Why We Need Awe More Than Ever Yesterday morning, I slipped into the cool stillness of my backyard before dawn. The air was crisp, the silence deep—broken only by the faint rustling of leaves and the familiar calls of birds waking early. Then I looked up. A thin crescent moon hung low in the east, with Venus just above it like a shining jewel. The sky was clear and full of stars, and for a moment, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time: Awe! For thousands of years, the heavens have carried on their steady dance, untouched by human noise. No ruler, no election, no breaking news has ever changed their rhythm. And yet here I was, tempted to reach for my phone—to trade the eternal for the urgent. Instead, I stayed. I watched the moonrise, the sky slowly lighten, and the world around me stir. Ducks passed overhead in a loose V, hummingbirds zipped past to visit their feeder, pausing mid-air as if curious about me sitting so still. Little by little, the static in my mind f...

The Silent Grid–Part Two

In this episode, The Silent Grid – Part Two Sirens split the night as Greenwood went dark. Marvin knew instantly—the blackout wasn’t an accident. It was a warning. In this quiet town, where life once unfolded at a predictable pace, a sleek, intuitive smartphone—a so-called gift from the future —has arrived. But it’s no tool for connection. It’s a silent force, erasing individuality and turning neighbors into something less than human. Marvin Gellborn, a man who values independence, sees the truth. His device isn’t helping; it’s testing him, watching him, and quietly embedding itself into the life of Greenwood. Welcome back to On the Fly . In this week’s episode of The Silent Grid , GridBot tightens its grip. After a hopeful community gathering, Marvin and his robot companion, Norman, notice a troubling absence—the very generation they hoped to reach has vanished into the neon glow of The Signal Box , a youth tech hub pulsing with digital obsession. When Greenwood’s lights vanish, Marvi...

The Pessimism Aversion Trap

In this episode, The Pessimism Aversion Trap Picture this: a room full of bright minds nodding in agreement as a bold new strategy is unveiled. The slides are polished, the vision is grand, and the future, we're told, has never looked brighter. Everyone beams—because who wants to be the one to say, "Um… this might not work"? Heaven forbid someone spoil the mood with a dose of reality. Better to smile, add a buzzword or two, and march confidently toward disaster. That's how the Pessimism Aversion Trap works. Even now, I can still hear the sound—a high-pitched shriek and a digital hum, followed by the slow, rhythmic clatter of data pouring from a 5¼-inch floppy disk. It was the late 1980s, and my makeshift home office (our living room) was dominated by what felt like a marvel of modern engineering: a used Tandy 1000 PC with not one, but two floppy drives. To top it off, we purchased a 'blisteringly fast' 300-baud modem—which, for the uninitiated, could downloa...

History Isn’t a Museum

✨ In this episode, History Isn't a Museum—It's a River . . . History isn't a museum—it's a river, and like it or not, we're already swimming in it. Its waters carry timeless lessons forward, flowing through each generation, waiting to be rediscovered . This profound realization struck me while reading Marcus Aurelius's Meditations . Imagine: a Roman emperor and philosopher two thousand years ago, writing notes that sound like advice from a modern mindfulness coach. When he says, "You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength," it feels like he's speaking directly to us. The water may change, but the river is the same. Examining this writing with a fresh, childlike perspective and a wealth of experience, I realize how consistent human nature remains over time. Every generation faces familiar challenges, marked by frustration, peace, courage, faith, baseball, and the search for meaning across the ages...

On The Fly

Search This Blog