“Each thing in its way, when true to its own character, is equally beautiful.” –Edward Abbey, Cliffrose and Bayonets
Driving back to Los Angeles from Silverton, (and from Hardrock 100), we drove alongside a storm. It came fast, but we could see it coming from at least thirty miles away.
We were in a rush, of course. After ten days of mountains and elevation, thin air, blue skies, flowers and rocks and rivers and scree, and Andrea’s 47 hour, 100 mile trek up and down narrow mountain trails, cliff edges, 33,000 feet of climbing and the same amount back down in a circle through the San Juans: Silverton, Ophir, Telluride, Ouray, Lake City, and back to Silverton, mostly on old mining trails, sometimes just finding one’s own path – this is Hardrock 100 – it was time to get back to the big city, with big city problems, and big city urgency.
Neither of us were looking forward to it all that much. We were already planning our next trip, to Mt. Taylor, in Grants, New Mexico, early October.
We stopped at Four Corners because I wanted to see it – the spot where Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Utah meet. Just off the highway, inside the Navajo Nation, it looked like a truck stop and the admission was $10, cash only. It didn’t seem worth, so I satisfied myself with being near the place where the four states meet.
I was put off at first by Edward Abbey. There was so much anger in his writing. It reminded me just a little of myself, and that made me uneasy. My anger and frustration (the former often a result of the latter) is not something I appreciate that much.
I’ve been told that sometimes the things we dislike most in others are the things we dislike most in ourselves.
And then there’s always this:
“Love implies anger. The man who is angered by nothing cares about nothing.” – Edward Abbey