Walk to Sunset

Posted by dkrashb on March 29, 2013

Sunset Rock Hipstamatic Style

In the effort to entertain my brother and sister-in-law, I came up with the following itinerary:

Have them assist in a birds of prey program at a local festival.
Take them to lunch at a famous barbecue on a hill with goats.
Haul them up to Lookout mountain and take them hiking for a couple of hours.
Drag them out for Mexican-fusion at favorite taco spot.
Give them a tour of husband’s workshop.

We are now on #3. Hauling said brother and sister-in-law up to Lookout Mountain for a relatively short, easy hike.

Sunset Rock via DSLR

One of my favorite short, easy hikes on Lookout is the hike from Craven’s House to Sunset Rock. There are many routes to choose from so it’s easy to make the hike as short as 3 miles or as long as 10, depending on how long you want to be out. Regardless of which route you choose, the scenery on Lookout and the views from the overlooks are always fantastic.

Our fearless hiking crew

The rock formations on Lookout are amazing in and of themselves. The sandstone (or maybe limestone?) splits, drops, careens, and leans in ways that make you feel like you’re doing something really dangerous by walking on stone that might fall off the side of the mountain at any moment. If the trail were along the creek with the same rock formations, it wouldn’t be quite as adventurous, but it would still be beautiful.

Chunks of ice remind us it’s only spring on the calendar

Water runs between the rocks from time to time. We were surprised on this early spring day to discover chunks of ice lingering in one microscopic waterfall. Just another reminder that only the humans around here are convinced it’s supposed to be spring.

Even the mushrooms look like they are winterized

Tisen enjoys this hike, too. He likes to linger behind, sniffing, and then dart back in front. Sometimes, he stops to check on me if I’m hanging back. I’m not sure if he’s worried I’m going to fall off a cliff (a reasonably probable occurrence) or if he thinks I might sneak off and disappear to some new life that doesn’t include him. He really doesn’t have to worry about the latter–I’m not anxious to find out what life will feel like without him.

Tisen checking on Mommy

We made it to Sunset Rock in tact, although Tisen scared me to the point that I yelled at him when he got so close to the edge that I really thought he was going to lift his leg and immediately topple down the cliff. I called him three times and when he ignored me, I panicked and yelled his name at the kind of volume that echoed off the surrounding cliff sides. He looked up at me, surprised and sheepish. I couldn’t remember having ever raised my voice at him before; I felt a little foolish.

View of the valley from Sunset Rock

The view from Sunset Rock is not actually better than the view from Point Park, but making the hike through the woods and up the mountain makes it feel so much better.

Baaa

Posted by dkrashb on March 28, 2013

Seriously–is there anything cuter?

Having spent the morning assisting at a birds of prey program at the Little Owl Festival at Audubon Acres, next on the agenda was lunch. There are certain places that people who come to visit Chattanooga want to go.

Pat’s sister wanted to check out the Hair of the Dog Pub downtown. My original sister-in-law came with a recommendation for Sugar’s Barbecue. We decided on the “Q with a View” location of Sugar’s. Not only does it offer great food and scenery, but there are also goats. It’s a place we like to take visitors.

Mama was unperturbed by my presence and concentrated on what she was chewing

In case you are worried, no goat meat appears on the menu at Sugar’s. I don’t know exactly why they have goats, but I like to think it’s for keeping the grass on the hillside trim.

Sugar’s has good barbecue. We particularly like their brisket. It’s extremely tender, falling apart when we pick at it. I also love their macaroni and cheese. And their mayonnaise-based coleslaw, which barely seems like it has mayo in it at all. And their banana pudding is hard to resist. I suppose it will come as no surprise if I mention I gained a pound or two in the day and a half my brother and sister-in-law visited?

Frolicking kids on the patio

After ordering and getting a tutorial on the various sauces Sugar’s offers (something I can never keep track of, except that there are 3 that are tomato based and 3 that are vinegar based), I slipped out to see the goats while we waited on the food.

The goats are divided into two areas. One is along the hillside and has a series of footpaths that only goats could possibly navigate. It’s like goat heaven. Except perhaps for the poop.

Kids or puppies?

The other area is in the middle of a lovely patio with picnic tables that are undoubtedly occupied during the months when it’s dry, sunny, and pleasantly warm without being too hot. We have never been to Sugar’s during the kind of weather conditions that would encourage people to sit out on the patio.

The center of the patio is fenced in, forming a good-sized yard where several goats are usually hanging out, hoping for a handout. On this day, three kids were hanging out with two moms. They were irresistible.

Naw . . . they’re not related

There really aren’t many things cuter than baby <fill in the blank>. Baby birds, baby people, baby dogs, baby sheep . . . you name it. They’re cute. Goats are particularly cute babies. Perhaps it’s their giant, floppy ears that seem so disproportional to their tiny heads. Or maybe it’s that they look so innocent while their elders always seem to look like they’re up to something.

Front and back

Whatever it is, I enjoyed getting some shots of the goats. So much so, I couldn’t resist taking a few shots with the Hipstamatic app on my iPhone, too. Funny how quickly a modern goat can be transported back in time.

Looking historical

Chatter

Posted by dkrashb on March 27, 2013

Jerry, an Eastern Screech Owl, Hipstamatized

After spending a good hour or so entertaining a small crowd at the Little Owl Festival, the crowd began to thin out. A handful or so hung around, petting Jerry the Screech Owl and asking the questions that didn’t get answered during the program. A few stragglers wandered over in time to get a chance to see the birds.

In this moment of relative quiet, Paul with Artie, I with Gilbert, and Megan with Jerry lined up for a photo op. We lined up in this order because Artie has a way of making Jerry nervous–in the wild, Jerry would be prey for Artie.

Gilbert suddenly started a shrill alarm call, looking around frantically. One of the remaining fans spotted a Coopers Hawk in the woods. It took several minutes of pointing and moving about for the half dozen or so humans hanging about to spot the hawk. Gilbert had spotted his mortal enemy without so much as turning his head. I remain bewildered as to how he noticed the hawk slip into the woods 500 yards away.

At the same time, Gilbert doesn’t have the same reaction to a Barred Owl sitting 3 feet away. With me and Gilbert between Jerry, a tiny Screech Owl, and Artie, all would have been quiet were it not for the Coopers Hawk in the woods.

Lining up so Jerry can’t see Artie

Pat managed to get a series of shots in any case. In the meantime, the last remnants of the crowd faded off to the next act, leaving us to pack up the birds and call it a day. Pat and Dale had a face-off with the cameras before we went our separate ways.

Dale wins in the camera battle with her polka-dotted case

I walked across the field back to our car feeling high. I stopped to visit with the Audubon folks at the tent selling tickets and couldn’t stop smiling about how much fun it had been to share the birds with the audience. I think they might have been jealous.

We loaded into the mini-van and headed down the road talking about where we should have lunch. As we rounded a curve through the wooded neighborhood that surrounds Audubon Acres, we spotted a huge flock of wild turkeys, with what appeared to be a dozen toms strutting about displaying their plumage, competing for the attention of the hens.

I, of course, called to Pat to stop the van as I grabbed the camera, hopped out of the car, and tried my best to get a shot without scaring them off. Wild turkeys are not very cooperative, I’ve found. They look perfectly content to hang out in the open like they own the world and there are no predators they have to worry about until the moment someone shows up with a camera. Then they seem to rapidly disappear.

My 24-70mm lens was no match for the distance the turkeys were able to cover in the time it took me to get lined up. But, we enjoyed their show none-the-less.

Wild turkey toms doing their best to attract a mate

Family Act

Posted by dkrashb on March 25, 2013

Posing for Granma’s Camera

Sometimes I think I’m a bit odd. Maybe just slightly kooky, a little nerdy, maybe even a bit eccentric. Then, every once in a while, I discover how truly normal I am. It’s almost disappointing, really.

For example, I thought maybe getting so excited about spending time with the wonderful birds of SOAR that it evoked childhood memories of the night before Christmas might be unusual.

Paul introduces Artie to one of the younger audience members

But what I’ve learned is that it’s not unusual at all to grin ear-to-ear when encountering wildlife up close. In fact, I believe every person I’ve seen attend any birds of prey program has responded with a similar grin. It really comes as no surprise that my brother and sister-in-law, joining us for the weekend, also exhibited the same jaw-cramping grin while helping out with an intimate show at the Little Owl Festival here in Chattanooga this weekend.

Megan holds Jerry up for all to see

The rain started early, turning into a light drizzle by the time we arrived at Audubon Acres for the festival. The organizers were fairly certain it was going to be dry for the duration of the festival. We were a bit nervous. But, we chose a back corner of the meadow, as far from the train tracks as possible, and started setting up.

We waited to start the program until after the civil war re-enactor had fired his musket a few times. Thankfully, one of the event planners thought to warn us so we left the birds in their carriers until after the smoke from the gun shots had cleared.

This birthday girl got quite a treat petting Jerry

Once things had settled down, the small crowd that had braved the early weather headed our way and we got ready to start the show. We had a small enough group to have them in a circle around us, which allowed everyone to get a front-row view of each bird, with time to pause for photos.

Megan was walking with Jerry, a Screech Owl, who was the only bird there that could be touched. Megan got the added pleasure of seeing children’s faces as they touch an owl for the first time in their lives. It’s a look that makes me smile so hard, my TMJ issues kick in and cause stabbing pain in my face. It’s worth it.

Seeing my brother with Artie makes me smile, too. I asked him what was going on in this image:

Paul trying to read Artie’s mind

He said, “He was looking at me.” The angle makes it a little hard to tell, but my brother is still grinning ear-to-ear. I kind of get the feeling that if Artie could grin, he would be, too.

By the way, I should mention that today’s photos are all by my favorite guest photographer, my husband. I put my camera on Automatic and handed it to him. Although I had to crop quite a bit because I should have put a longer lens on the camera, he did a fabulous job in a difficult shooting situation.

Paul squats to let the shortest audience members get a good look at Artie

Gilbert’s Sour Grape

Posted by dkrashb on March 24, 2013

In spite of our non-compatible species issues, Gilbert always makes me smile

Gilbert is a special boy. He’s an American Kestrel who was “rescued” by some well-meaning people when he didn’t need to be rescued. He became a “human imprint.” Perhaps you’ve heard stories about ducks following around a person after seeing them immediately after hatching, but imprinting behavior applies to all birds and isn’t limited to the first thing a newly hatched bird sees–a young bird can imprint on whoever its caretaker is after it hatches.

Besides not being able to survive in the wild, there are some other problems associated with human imprints. Gilbert is experiencing one of those right now–he has biological urges. But, as a bird who thinks he’s a person, this is rather complicated.

Poor Gilbert wants a girl, but he’s more interested in humans than he is in other Kestrels. This seems to be true in spite of the fact that it’s not clear Gilbert can distinguish between a female human and a male human. He talks continuously as soon as he hears a voice, clamoring for affection.

If Gilbert were a dog, we would say he was barking up the wrong tree. Gilbert isn’t so different from humans in this respect. While he may be suffering from species confusion, many of us humans suffer from equally self-destructive confusion when it comes to selecting a mate. From what I remember, Gilbert could relate to human dating confusion such as:

Showing off Gilbert’s wings and tail

Confusing being liked by someone with liking someone. These are not the same thing.
Trying to chase a potential love interest without appearing to chase. This usually results in the kind of humiliating goofiness responsible for the creation of the movie genre called “romantic comedy.” It’s much easier to maintain our dignity by just being direct about our interest. Even if we get shot down, we don’t have to waste a lot of time delaying what was inevitably going to happen anyway.
Becoming someone else. If Gilbert could morph himself into someone much taller with longer legs, lose the beak, feathers, tail, wings, and, perhaps most importantly, trade his talons in for feet, he would have a better chance at landing himself a hot woman. While we might laugh at the prospect of a tiny Kestrel transforming himself into a handsome, human prince, it’s amazing how often humans try to make similarly impossible transformations to win their love interest. Really, the secret to happiness is to love someone who can love you back just as you are.

Small children were fascinated by Gilbert

I wish I could explain to Gilbert why he needs to either figure out how to be attracted to female Kestrels or join the priesthood, but I don’t speak Kestrese. In the meantime, Gilbert sings to me, telling me how handsome he is, how energetic he is. He tries to convince me we will make a beautiful couple. I don’t have the heart to tell him that he and I can never be together.

Instead, I make cooing noises and hope he finds it comforting.

Gilbert may have trouble getting a girl, but he sure is a crowd pleaser

*Note: All photographs in today’s post taken by my husband; edited by me.

Family Planning

Posted by dkrashb on March 23, 2013

Tisen’s collection of squeaky toys seems to have grown quite a bit since October

This was the majority of the collection in October–the family is getting out of control

There’s a reason people recommend planning your family carefully. I believe it’s because after so many family members, it becomes difficult to fit everyone into a camera frame.

While we successfully kept the human side of the family to plan, the canine side didn’t go quite how we expected. Our plan was not to have any more dogs until we had settled down somewhere. Our goal was all about mobility.

Tisen inspects the family portrait pose

But as things changed and we exercised our mobility less and less, I found myself home alone way too much. Working from home is not the same as actually being around other people, even on days when I’m on conference calls for 10 straight hours.

Black and white Hipstamatic version using the D-Type film

Not wanting a long-term commitment, I decided to foster dogs for a local shelter. Tisen was my 3rd foster dog in Chattanooga. I am what is called a “foster failure.” That’s what it’s called when foster mom and dad adopt the dog they’re fostering. I can live with that kind of failure.

My boy kept stealing family members–Baby Beaver had to be omitted from the group shot to get Tisen to settle down

But, having failed to plan the permanent addition of Tisen to our family, it follows that I would be equally less deliberate about planning the additions Tisen would bring home. It started with the discovery of his love for squeaky toys. For the first year we had Tisen, he had no interest in treats. Only squeaky toys.

Tisen licks his nose after being reunited with Snake makes him sneeze

As a result, we kept getting him more squeaky toys. Soon, it became a tradition every time we went to PetsMart, Tisen gets to pick out a new toy. He carries it so proudly through the store with the tags still hanging off it. Usually, he tries to prance straight out the front door with it. He hasn’t quite gotten the “we have to pay for it” concept down yet. So far the store manager has been very understanding and hasn’t prosecuted Tisen for attempted shop lifting.

A more traditional image of the family yielded a pile of jumbled colors

Today, I decided, was the day to find out just how large the family had grown. I haven’t attempted a family portrait since October, when Cow Ball joined the family. I was a bit shocked when I gathered up all the family members and piled them on the sofa. This actually took two trips!

Tisen isn’t quite sure what he’s supposed to do with the huge pile of toys on the sofa

I got out the last inventory list I’d made and checked off the toys as I found them. Each and every one of them was accounted for, plus about 10 news ones added since October. There was even one extra–White Ball. White ball doesn’t belong to Tisen. He “borrowed” it from Twiggy, his girlfriend. It’s probably some ploy he’s using to try to get her to come over–she likes to play it cool.

Close up of Big Dog, Red Dog, Artie (the Armadillo/’Possum), and Puppy Luv cuddling

I had a little trouble fitting the entire family into the frame. I’m a little worried they’ve started multiplying on their own–how did we end up with 3 bears? Last time I checked, we only had Minnie and Eddie Bear. Now we have Flat Bear, too. This is why family planning is so important.

Had great fun with an overexposed shot–after much adjusting, it ended up reminding me of a crayon drawing

Tisen’s Toys

Posted by dkrashb on March 22, 2013

Tisen cuddling Mr. Beaver quite a few months back (B&W HDR processed)

This evening, I realize I need to shoot an updated family portrait. It’s been quite a while since I last captured Tisen’s collection of “babies” (as they say in the South) together. I would stop writing to go shoot them now (even though it is already 20 ‘til 11PM and I have a 6:30AM yoga class in the morning), but I’m not sure where all of them are.

I know Tisen has left a large collection in the mini-van. Every time I open the door I do a double take. Big dog is occupying the back seat. Lamb, Red Dog, Purple Monkey, and a large collection of others are strewn across the seats.\

Tisen taking Eddie Bear for a walk

But then I wonder what has happened to Lamb, who has frequently disappeared, Duck, Hog, and Mini Bear? They were once favorites, but I’ve rarely seen Tisen with them in the past few months. Tiger and Lion have also been replaced with new favorites. Skunk, Cow, and the Green Reindeer seem to be vying for the latest round of the “favorite toy” awards.

I’m curious to see how big a pile Tisen’s toys would make these days. I know they no longer fit into the hamper we use to store them when they’re all found and tossed together. Perhaps that’s because they get feisty when they’re all in the same bin and start kicking each other out.

My personal favorite–I can’t remember the last time I saw Puppy Luv

Curiously, Mr. Beaver has recently reappeared from the bottom of the toy pile. I thought Tisen had given up on dragging Mr. Beaver along on walks. Mr. Beaver is too long with his tail. He drags on the ground tripping one or both of us. I have been on a secret mission to convince Tisen that Mr. Beaver is not the toy he wants to take on a walk for at least 6 months now.

Just when I was sure I had convince Tisen that Mr. Beaver should be left at home in favor of shorter toys that don’t hang out of his mouth and create a tripping hazard, Tisen suddenly dug Mr. Beaver out of the hamper.

Lamb, so often lost, looks so cozy in Tisen’s arms

I have taken the substitution approach. This is the same secret technique used successfully by women when retraining men for centuries. Instead of convincing said man that he doesn’t want something he thinks he wants, said woman simply chooses something she prefers and then presents it to said man in such a way that said man does exactly what said woman wants while believe he is doing what he wants.

This is much more easily accomplished with Tisen than with Pat, for the record. With Tisen, Mr. Beaver does not have a particularly good squeak. Tisen is a sucker for a good squeak. So, all I have to do is pick up Skunk or virtually any other toy in Tisen’s collection, and squeak it. Tisen immediately drops Mr. Beaver in favor of any toy that squeaks for him. Then, off we go with Skunk instead. Works every time.

Tisen awakened from a nap with Minnie Bear

Asking Why

Posted by dkrashb on March 21, 2013

Sometimes all that’s required for adventure is to look up

Tonight, I sit at the computer feeling a bit lost for a topic. It’s 9:37PM. The clock is counting down to bedtime while I flounder. I have no new photos to share. I find myself wondering what compels me to write 500 words every night and take and process enough photos each week to accompany those words.

My topic tonight has revealed itself to me: why do I blog?

Creating adventure out of cardboard and gravity

This is a question I have been asked by more than one person. Some of my closest relatives have wondered what the appeal is. It’s a question I ask myself from time to time. The original intent was to use the blog as a way to keep family and friends up-to-date on our new adventures as we moved away from the place I’d spent the vast majority of my life and into parts unknown.

But then, several things happened. First, I made the decision to post every day. My main goal was to develop a habit of writing. After all, to be a writer, there’s only one thing you have to do: write.

Hiking where there are great views is always a satisfying adventure

But, let’s face it, not too many of us have exciting things to write about every day. For the first six months we were in Chattanooga, we were treating our stay here like we were on a vacation every weekend–seeing and doing whatever there was to see and do within a couple hours drive. That gave me material to string out throughout the week.

Next, my husband started a business in Chattanooga. Not just a business, but a business requiring lots of heavy equipment that occupies a good-sized workshop. Not exactly mobile.

This guy is always on an adventure–but it’s always the same one

It’s funny how the knowledge that we had years to get to see the area vs months changed the weekend vacation attitude to one of “we’re at home.” Suddenly, it’s not the top priority to go hike a new trail every weekend or hang glide off a mountain or learn to kayak in white water. Now, we are accumulating the “some day” list of things we want to see and do similar to what we had before we moved here.

The idea of having an adventure to write about every day has gone out the window, yet the habit of writing seems to have stuck.

Taken a year ago, I realize how even spring is an adventure–no blooms on this hillside yet this year

In parallel to these changes to our life plan, I got more and more excited about practicing photography. I spent increasingly more time learning about the technical aspects of photography and more and more time shooting. Having a “deadline” and a place to publish those photos helps me prioritize my time so that I make time to practice.

I feel more accountable somehow because I have a small, much appreciated, group of followers who click the “like” button. This accountability helps me make time to do something I enjoy. It seems counter-intuitive, but it works for me.

Maybe the answer is as simple as I like it.

The moon always makes me feel adventurous

Dog Walk

Posted by dkrashb on March 20, 2013

The “Happy Puppy” face comes through even in the Hipstamatic blur effect

I discovered something about my dog last weekend. At least I think I did. I’ve always suspected he thinks he’s walking me when we go for our spins around the park. He has good reason to believe this. I take the approach that as a dog with no yard, his walks should simulate the experience of wandering around the yard amusing himself.

An urban dog’s lot in life is to enjoy the outdoors while attached to his people

Instead of expecting him to heel, I let him pick where he wants to wander within reason. If he meanders off the sidewalk and into the grass because he’s suddenly caught a really good scent, I follow.

Is it time to go? Are we going? Now? Now?

If I get impatient, I whistle to him and say, “Let’s go this way,” in my high, happy puppy voice and move my body in a way that suggests play. I hope no one has ever caught this on video. Usually, he will come with me.

But when an urban dog is at home, life can be pretty luxurious

Interestingly, he rarely pulls on the lead. When we’re in motion, we walk together like he’s been expertly trained. The lead hangs so loose, I have to loop it to keep it from dragging and tripping one of us. He walks at my side content until the next great scent piques his interest.

So, while on the one hand, he could have the impression that he is walking me, on the other hand, he stays with me nicely much of the time. It’s a win-win and I’ve never really worried much about it–he and I seem equally content in our style of walking together.

Cuddling in a blanket next to Mommy seems to be the highlight of the day

When we went for our little hikes in the Prentice Cooper State Forest this past weekend, we let Tisen off his leash when we were on trails where we were unlikely to run into anyone and far from ATVs. Because Tisen is the kind of dog that wants to have his people in sight all the time, we don’t have to worry about him running off (unlike an Akita we once fostered who seemed to think he needed to run 10 miles a day and that being let of the leash was an invitation to go do so).

Hey! Where’d everyone go?

Tisen sometimes gets lost in a scent. He forgets where he is, who he’s with, and goes blind as all of his brain becomes occupied with deciphering what message was left for him. When we hike, we just keep going, figuring he’ll catch up after a bit. If he doesn’t show up before we get very far, we call him. Then, he usually panics and comes galloping back to us like he’s just had the daylights scared out of him.

The blanket is supposed to protect the sofa from Tisen–a point he seems to have missed

This isn’t new behavior. But, for the first time it dawned on me that he’s shocked to realize we can get away. He forgets we’re not on a leash. He expects to look up and find us standing next to him, waiting for him to finish. I feel certain his panic is proof that he really does think he’s walking us.

This photo may be blurry, but it still cracks me up–Tisen is so determined to hide his face, he sticks his head in the crook of Daddy’s arm

Not Snoopers Rock

Posted by dkrashb on March 19, 2013

Looking back up the trail, parallel to the cliff wall that makes up the bulk of Indian Rock House

On our weekend adventure, after going the wrong way and ending up at Signal Point, cowboying our way down a road made for ATVs rather than mini-vans and nearly removing our bumper trying to turn around, we headed towards our initial destination: Snoopers Rock.

We made our way slowly back up the ATV-friendly road back to the long gravel road that traverses the Prentice Cooper State Forest. At some point, I got a signal on my iPhone and looked up a map of the park. True to the rest of the day, I realized we had passed the trailhead for Snoopers Rock and we turned around. But, curious about what appeared to be a fire tower along the way, I asked Pat to stop, back up, and pull into the park headquarters to check it out.

Not the fire tower stairs, but still a little dangerous

When Pat put our trusty mini-van in reverse, something drug on the gravel road. Pat got out and discovered the radiator shroud was hanging far lower than it should be. I don’t know what a radiator shroud is, but was relieved that Pat thought we’d be OK for a few days as long as we stopped running over things with it.

The fire tower was open to the public with an ominous sign at the base of the terrifying stairs stating that if you enter, you have to assume responsibility if you get hurt. I made it up the first two flights of steep, narrow steps (less than halfway to the top) before a strong wind shaking the tower reminded me just how afraid of heights I am. I took what were, I’m sure, my best shots of the day of the tower. However, they mysteriously disappeared, making me slightly less enamored with shooting with Hipstamatic on my iPhone instead of my DSLR.

Side wall of Indian Rock House shot with the color verison of tintype in Hipstamatic

We headed back to the trailhead, parked, crossed the road and headed down the trail, expecting to arrive at Snoopers Rock in less than half a mile. Eventually, we saw a sign that said Indian Rock House was .9 mile away and Snoopers Rock was a couple of miles beyond. I was quite perplexed. We decided to head on down to Indian Rock House–we were nearly there. Our day was destined to be a day of detours.

A more realistic image of the entrance to the stone door shot with the Camera! app

Indian Rock House has a stone door much like the one at Savage Gulf, but on a smaller scale. The gap in the rocks leads down narrow, steep steps that rivaled the fire tower for hazardousness, but felt far more secure with the ground much closer.

The Rock House is a large indentation in the cliffside that provides a roof if you stay close to the rock wall. I wouldn’t call it a cave, but it did provide shelter to indigenous people at some point in history. It was pretty cool in any case.

Pat pointed out a “whale” in the end wall of the rock house–can you see it?

By the time we hiked back up to the trailhead, we decided we’d better call it a day. Some day, we’ll make it to Snoopers Rock.

I’m not sure why, but I find this image interesting with Pat blurred in the background and the foreground rock in focus

Nearly the same shot as above, only with Pat in focus instead

Nearly the same shot as above, only with Pat less blurred

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