We spent a beautiful day wandering the shores of Mono Lake.  A lot of lightning and resulting fires, beautiful skies.

We spent the summers of '81 thru '92 in the mountains of northern Washington.  Unwittingly following in the footsteps of Gary Snyder and Jack Kerouac

In celebration of the time and place I have resurrected  some past images.

Dynamic weather this May/June in the Sierra is reminiscent of summers in the North Cascades.  To celebrate memories of the ol' stompin' grounds we headed for one of the few "real" trails here on the Eastside.  The little used trail climbs 4000 feet in 4 miles, through wonderfully steep forests of White Fir and Juniper.  

A steep walled canyon of metamorphics, dusted with fresh Junuary snow.  Black wall of storm engulfed the White Mountains, thundering cascades at our feet.

   Traversing low gullies snow filled last month, great skiing.  Twisted metal tracks protrude from tunnels, mimmic Limber pine high on cliffs, vestiges of  time gone by.  Rusted cable car fallen to earth, ancient trail obscured by rock, red dynamite boxes.  Descending scree, lupine and paintbrush.