Today, a short excerpt from ‘The Mount Whitney Journals’. I’m recovering from minor surgery and it’s driving me a bit crazy to be a semi-invalid. My highlight for today will be a 4-block walk to the park with a cup of coffee and my laptop. By next week, I should be ready for a short jaunt on Mt. Tam and some longer blog entries.
Today’s excerpt is from 2009. I’m on the way to June Lake where I’ll camp for the night.
THE MOUNT WHITNEY JOURNALS – Book V – 2009
August 4, 2009. I’m well inside Yosemite somewhere between White Wolf and Porcupine Flat campgrounds. I park in a turnout to take a lunch break among the granite, pines and aspens. As always, I can’t resist my boyish urge to throw rocks at defenseless trees. I don’t believe this will send me straight to hell when I die, but it might add a day or two to my stay in purgatory. Unless, of course, humankind, in our arrogance, has the concept of God, the universe and the afterlife wrong. Given man’s track record, this is likely. For all I know, God is an oak tree the size of Jupiter. If that’s the case, then my eternal soul is screwed and will be summarily dropkicked across the galaxy to the cheers of all the trees I ever hit. Or I might just be brought back as an urban tree or shrub for poodles and chihuahuas to pee on.