From the edge of an old lava flow–peering into the deciduous canopy of the Canyonlands below. Shasta and I have hiked along this ridge, scouting a navigation exercise for the upcoming 4090 class. It’s hot. Too hot for a black dog entering old age and I modify my route as I watch her normal bouncy behavior settle, sag, into a determined plod. It is only on the way back that I notice a small perched pond just off the trail. I can’t help but wonder what else I missed on this walk, engrossed in plans for the upcoming class. I have to turn back well before I want to–consoled that I will be back next week for a longer stay.
