The town of Lone Pine, CA will never be the same. This happens all the time when Miss Razzle Dazzle and I venture out unchaperoned. Places are changed forever and so are we. (As an aside, she picked her own name. I said, Are you sure? She shut me down with her look. So, that’s the name. Blame not me.)
My drive from Marin to Mammoth Lakes to fetch Miss Razzle Dazzle at the airport was 6 hours of pure bliss. I laughed, I cried, I sang loudly to every song on the six CDs that have been in my CD player for the last several months. Note to self, time to change it up.
Because it’s how I operate these days, I had no expectations of this journey, but one: summit Mt. Whitney. So I’m not surprised by my sudden burst of tears when I rounded a bend to see Mono Lake for the first time.
Sweet, no? Everybody has heard of Lake Tahoe, but Mono Lake, Chicken Spring Lake…and holy arachnid…Alabama Hills. Who has heard of the Alabama Hills in California? Not us. So imagine our stupor when we drove through a boulder strewn landscape that looked as if pebbles were kicked up by Giants as they played a game of dodge ball.
And because Alabama Hills is worthy of two pictures…
I promise to weave these sights into a post that will for certain be full of gratitude. I am moved by the beauty of this planet in ways that really warrant a fully rested, fully present post.
I have a smidge of battery left so I must post before it evaporates. Which is what everything does here once off the peaks that cradle adorable and freaking sweltering Lone Pine. It is smokin’ hot here! Tomorrow is a day off. No ten miles at 11.500 feet. I am yours, your eyes are mine. I will tell you all about the voices I heard post-skunk detox, paint the picture of the eastern Sierras for you, and give you the low down on our first excursion to the Whitney Portal store.
And then I will tell you why the setting of this goal, the goal to climb Mt. Whitney in one day, gave me back my life.
Enjoy the pics, enjoy the evening, and know that as I blow a kiss to the tallest mountain in the continental US, I blow one to you as well. It’s a two-fer.
Till the morrow…
Love yourself,
Cleo
No lie, one of the best restaurants at which I’ve ever eaten is at the Mobil gas station where the 395 meets the Tioga pass. The Whoa Nellie Deli.
Hit it on the way home if you can; you won’t regret it! Mango margaritas and live music on the patio overlooking Mono Lake and eating something like wild buffalo meatloaf or their awesome fish tacos or BBQ chicken/cilantro pesto pizza or or or…
C,
You had me at mango…I will be there on Friday night. Look for the tender gait of a ginger.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Good luck on your journey, drink lots of water and snack often even if you don’t feel like it. I’ve been following your journey, this one and others, through your charming blog. I know that you’ve been dealing with a lot of “big” issues and this may seem inconsequential but, when I saw the first picture at the top of this post my first thought was “killer hair”. Have fun on the summit!
Andrew
A,
Inconsequential? Tell that to the hair! It looked over my shoulder at your comment and said, See…it’s all about the hair. I just brushed it off.
Thank you, my dear. Your compliment is much appreciated. And your guidance is taken and will be followed. It is exceedingly hot in Lone Pine – nearly 100 today, 103 yesterday. I’ve drank so much Smart Water I am Jennifer Aniston.
I hope to be laying on the summit in the late morning with much gratitude for the opportunity to climb her granite being and for the love and support I receive here at HGM. Thank you, A.
Love yourself,
Cleo
It may just be that I’m old, but the Alabama Hills used to be famous for all the movies that were filmed there. Best wishes in my favorite part of the world where I haven’t been for years.
G,
I fell hard for Lone Pine. The Alabama Hills are insane! I’m heading back there soon to climb those puppies. Yes, many a western were filmed there. A sweet town, for sure. And so fortunate to be able to lay at the feet of Mt. Whitney.
Love yourself,
Cleo
The goals you set for yourself are so impressive. I know that you’ve already climbed Mt. Whitney, that this response is several days late, but I can’t help but feel excitement! This is huge, a memory of a lifetime, something you’ll tell your grandkids about.
The pics you’ve posted are stunning and so is your HAIR OMG. My mother is a redhead but I got mousy brown hair and I have always envied you reds. Stunning.
E,
Thank you, E. I will need another one soon as my bay swim is mere days away. I cannot believe I am about to say this, but perhaps a triathlon is in my future? More likely, immediate training for Mt. Rainier. That’s going to be a large undertaking and planned for next summer. We shall see. I also may just expand on the bay swimming – I really want to swim from the Golden Gate to the Bay Bridge. 6 miles.
It’s funny, The Genius calls these events ‘adventures’. It’s not just for kicks and giggles. As you well know. Setting and achieving these goals keeps my heart, body, spirit and mind strong, healthy and able. My number one goal is to be a solid role model for the children and to stay the hell out of the health care system.
That said, mountains and bays have my heart. And meadows, and lakes, and the northern lights…
Man, nature has me by the heart, doesn’t she? The pull is so strong it guides my every move.
So grateful you are here, E. Thank you.
Love yourself,
Cleo
E,
I neglected to thank you for your ultra kind comments regarding my hair. I mean, I know we try to tackle some serious stuff here and all, but my 50 pounds of Cousin It love it when people sweet talk the strands. That said, it’s a pain when I have to listen to It wax poetically ’bout how in the old days people would make fun of the ginger, but now the ginger is hot and coveted and the paparazzi…blah, blah, blah. So, I’m concerned that my hair will forget to work on its personality because it thinks it can get by on its looks alone…
Basically, what I’m trying to say is, Thank you. But please…shhhhhh…don’t tell it to the strands.
Love yourself,
Cleo