A Sunrise Isn't A Gift If You Aren't There To Receive It

When the alarm sounds at 3:50 a.m. I am a little confused. I slowly become aware that I am in the mountains on summer vacation, but why is the alarm buzzing in the middle of the night? As I gain some sort of consciousness I am aware I can end this buzzing sound and sleep for another 3 or 4 hours, heck I can sleep another 8 hours if I want, it's VACATION!





After about 10 seconds I pretty much know what is going on, and realize I am the one responsible for setting the wake up call. I have about a half hour to drink my coffee, have a snack, and get dressed to get started on what should be about a 15 mile run. I head into the darkness with my hat that lights up (thanks for the present Lynne) leading me through the darkness for the first part of the run. There is no such thing as street lights in the mountain communities and I like it that way. Eventually the lights on my hat are clicked off as light is slowing appearing in the skies.


There is a strange feeling of running along the mountain roads as your eyes adjust from darkness to light that is difficult to describe. I don’t feel lonely at all, even though the most contact is an occasional scared dear that runs off into the woods. It is more a sense of connectedness with darkness, light, and nature. After a littler over an hour, I turn onto a dirt path that leads me up a meandering mountain trail; this takes me to the top of a mountain where a logging road brings more definition to my direction. A while later I am at the top of the mountain overlooking my destination… Pinecrest Lake.







An hour and a half has passed and the sun has still not shown itself, but the view is spectacular and there is enough light to see the peaceful lake as I start my descent.








Thirty more minutes and I will have made it around most of the lake and run into my wife Cindy, and dog Jacpot. They have taken the saner route of driving to the lake first, and then running before the sun is up. When we cross paths, I reverse my direction and jog back around the lake with them. Upon returning to the other side of the lake, Jacpot fetches a stick in the water for a while before we drive back to pick up a newspaper and then return to the cabin.





I don't know when when it happens, but somewhere during these runs there is a sunrise. I guess it is when the sun just begins to peak over the mountain range. But on these mornings, to me the sunrise is not a distinct moment, rather as one special performance over a couple hours. A gift is how I would describe it, and I am the recipient. My consciousness is able to wrap it all up into one big present and take it in. Those first 10 seconds of rising out of bed have long passed, and I am not confused anymore.

Rains, Stains, and Runs In The Hills

Summer is a great time of year! We are back to our mountain cabin in Cold Springs and enjoying the peace and quiet. Ahhhhhhh. Of course, that is until our neighbors arrive for the fourth of July weekend with thier pre-teen children and blast Justin Bieber songs from their car. Still, life is good, and it is always good to have a little unexpected surpise.


My John Candy movie reference, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles in the Blog Title starts with "rains" and water is abundant everywhere in the Sierras. We had two days the other day of heavy downpour to add to our already wet season. The lake is full, and the rivers are rushing. The rain delayed us about four days before we could begin staining the entire deck. Eventually we accomplished the deck and moved on to clearing the pine needles. The wet year has also caused detours to some morning runs. Cindy, Jacpot and myself run the 4.5 mile circumference of nearly flat Pinecrest Lake each morning, and although runs in the "hills" might be a stretch, I had a hard time coming up with something to rhyme with "automobiles". Occasionally I leave the house at 4:30 a.m. and run to the lake where I meet Cindy and Jacpot for a run around the lake. The detours have occurred due to the bulging river banks leaving me no place to cross and finding alternate routes, I even have to go over a hill.



We have been here a week and have five more to go. The weather is back to normal and the peace and tranquility is welcomed. A few nights ago, Cindy put out the garbage on the deck to be taken to the garage the next day, upon exiting the cabin the next morning at 4:30, two beady eyes stared back at me enjoying a nice breakfast. It was quite an unexpected surprise and I enjoyed it even more than having to listen to Justin Bieber.