Last week I took Chris and one of his friends snowboarding at Wrightwood.  Originally I thought that I might rent a pair of skis and join them.  Wisdom then took control.  It’s not that I’m too old to ski, but it is that I’m far too out of shape.  Also, I’ve never been that physically coordinated.  So to put two boards on my feet, and then put me on a slippery surface would not have been the smartest thing that I’ve ever done. 

There was no snow last week to play in, only the man-made kind, and that was reserved for skiers.  So, what could I do with my time?  First, I had brought some material, so that I could work on my Sunday evening lesson.  After that was done, I took a nap (these are becoming more frequent, and more enjoyable as the years go by).  Then I went for a walk.  I walked up the road past where you buy the lift tickets.  The road ends at a tavern (I didn’t go in). There’s a steep hill at the end of the tavern parking lot.  I started up the hill. 

There wasn’t any snow on the ground, but the soil being like shale was still slippery in places.  I had to stop several times to catch my breath (I told you that I was out of shape).  There was a recent “burn” on that hill, and many of the trees had fallen, so my route had to be worked around, over, and through the trees.  The trees that were still standing looked as though they might fall at any moment.  I’ve never shared this with anyone, but even though I love the forest, I have a secret fear of trees falling on me.  I’m sure that there’s a name for this phobia, I just don’t know what they call it.  I experience this fear when surrounded by even healthy trees.  So these partially burned trees seemed particularly menacing.  As I passed each one I carefully calculated where I would run should it begin to fall. 

When I reached what I thought was the top of the hill, I came upon a structure.  At first I thought it was a bomb shelter.  It looked like a rock house, but only about six feet stood above the ground.  The roof was concrete, pitched, and appeared at least to be about a foot thick.  It had grated windows, and I peered into one of them.  The thing was full of water.  I guess it is what we used to call a cistern, a water tank.  Also here was a gently sloping road to walk on, instead of hill climbing.  I walked quite a way up the road toward the top of the mountain where there was a large communications complex.  The trees here were green and healthy and seemed at least as though they were less likely to fall on me.  I stopped and looked down the valley, and could see Palmdale.  I’m sure that with the right equipment I could have picked out my own home.  I wondered how many had ever stood there and seen that particular view. 

I then turned and walked down the road to where it ended at the edge of the snow near the lower ski lift.  I thought, hey you could walk up here with your skis, and ski down for free.  You’d need a backpack so you could change boots, but you could beat the system.  I guess it would be stealing, and probably not worth the effort anyway.