Brad, I'm in awe of your climb! I had a small adventure while you up there. It follows:
I arose with dawn on Monday and made my leisurely way through morning camp chores – mostly drinking coffee and watching sun-fingers touch Glacier Point. I finally tidied up breakfast and made ready to set off on my hike – a jaunt up the Snow Creek Trail. My pack was packed except for a few munchies – two ziplock bags filled respectively with gorp and peanuts – which I removed from the bear box and set on the picnic table. I stepped to the open rear of my van to retrieve my pack and heard a loud flapping behind me.
I turned quickly, but my bags of goodies were already headed for the deep woods in the clutches of two large ravens. I dropped my pack and gave chase. Some distance into the trees, I realized – Holy S _ _ _ ! I’m sprinting! It’s been a decade or two since I did that and I decided it was best to quit, especially since the ravens, even burdened, were widening the gap between us. Uttering raucous, mocking caws, they soon disappeared.
I returned to camp and sat pondering my losses with a third cup of coffee. After a few minutes, up flapped Mr. Raven. He settled on a high branch, cocked his head to one side and peered down at me, obviously hoping that I’d offer him a second course of breakfast. I addressed him in a conversational tone and told him that he closely resembled the southern-most orifice of the human body. I added that his ancestry was more than suspect. He listened attentively until I finished. When he was sure I had no more to say, he flew away.
A few minutes later, he swooped down and dropped my stolen baggie of peanuts at the edge of camp.
I’m open to explanations here!
