Yesterday I took a trip to independence pass. It was a great little get away. At some point I'd like to spend the night and see the stars from the midpoint on the trail.
I'm going to share some of the photos and a video the Google helped me create. As usual, they just don't capture the feeling of being surrounded by all that beauty. The parking lot for the pass was packed as one would expect, with people from around the world. I counted at least four languages. I was a bit concerned that I may not get the kind of relaxing and quiet afternoon I was in need of. Thankfully, as is often the case, the folks who were at the parking area were only interested in hopping out of the car, taking a quick photo, and then moving on.
As I began up the 2.25 mile trail, I noted only a few people were venturing beyond the pavement. A sigh of relief. The further I got, the less people I noted. At one point I had to laugh, as a couple who where speaking french were taking video of each other in full running garb "running" down the side of the mountain. (they really only ran for about one minute each, and then began to walk back to the car). Too funny I thought, and wondered what the story would be... did they go all the way to the top? Did they run the entire way back? Who knows. People are funny critters.
The smells were amazing, this late in the season, at this altitude, there were still a variety of flowers in bloom, and the air had a strong sweet scent.
Finally as I crested the first hill, I noted that I had departed both the throngs of photo seekers, selfie sticks, and the hikers. It was quiet. I took a moment to take it all in, and was surprised that despite the brisk wind, there were small butterflies everywhere! How they manage in that kind of wind is beyond me.
After the first hill, the trail ran directly on the ridge line affording a spectacular, and slightly unnerving view all around. I remembered reading about the hiker last week who died after "falling a significant distance" and again, my morbid sense of humor said in the back of my mind "He died doing what he loved.... you know, falling!!!" I laughed, and the mountain was silent.
As I crested the second peak, I noted that I was just beginning to feel the altitude. I made a conscious effort to slow down, and make each foot fall a sure one. At this point there is a small, what I would call boulder field on the crest of the mountain. It is easily maneuvered through, but slowly as there is not much room for error.
Just past this peak you encounter an entirely different type of peak, from here to the end the entire trail is all pumice like volcanic stone. No dirt, just many many stones piled on one another. I liken them to ankle biters. It had the sound of walking on broken porcelain. I noted at this point also, the sweet smell of flowers was gone. I was now well past the altitude of flowers, and the air here was slightly thin, but crisp and clear.
I continued on this porcelain path until abruptly, it came to a cliff edge. I stopped in awe of both the view, the my proximity to the side of the cliff. It was spectacular.
I turned left to head straight to the peak, and was surprised to find two "fox hole" like positions built out of the surrounding rocks. I dropped my pack and had a seat at the top of the final peak on this trail. It was still accept for the wind, the occasional aircraft overhead. Stunning. I must have sat transfixed for damn near an hour. This I believe is the closest I have come to what some might call meditation.
