leaving the mountains behind
- kris
- Mar 12, 2019
- 2 min read
On a flight back to Michigan from Utah. Always hard to leave behind such a peaceful place. Was nice to have a respite.
Yesterday Ella and Julia had a bluebird day. I had two amazing ski days, the snow this year was unbelievable. I took a picture of the girls walking to the ski out path and you can barely see Ella's helmet as she was making her way through a snow packed maze.
I walked along the road with the sun warming me, feeding me my much needed dose of Vitamin D. I know there is so much beauty in Michigan -- I've always had a hard time deciding if I was a water person or mountain. In San Francisco, it was the best of both worlds. I would set off to the Marin Headlands, climbing up the stairs from my favorite launch spot, Spencer trail, and wind my way up a twisty pasty vertical path. The climb was worth it. The final ascent was a view of the San Francisco skyline across the bay, Belvedere Island, and Tiburon. If you turned the other direction the headlands stretched out before you, leading you to the Pacific Ocean. I truly thought I had stumbled onto heaven. It was my heaven, at least.
Yet, you couldn't really swim in the ocean -- the cold current that came down from Alaska brought with it an unpleasant chill. And then there were the sharks. The bay didn't really appeal to me either, so I was just satisfied with the view, the mountains, the cityscape -- it truly had it all.
Lake Michigan had spoiled me with its clean blue water that felt like a second mother to me. I would walk into her waters and be enveloped with her clear, clean embrace. When I felt troubled, going to the lake was my salvation and as I dove down and floated, all of the outer world washed away.
Utah, its mountains, heals in a different way. Being spent after a rigorous hike that led to a view that continues to create a feeling of awe and reverence in me. I feel blessed that I have been able to find these stunning places that heal and soothe my soul.
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