A Letter to Mt. Raymond

Mt. Raymond.

Jens.

Mr. Raymond,

Two weeks ago you got the best of me. You were so inviting as I looked upon your heights. But alas, I had to hang my head down in shame and descend to my lowly station. However, I returned with high hopes of prostrating myself on the slabs of your loftiness. My timing was bleak so I pushed forward, leaving the company of my companion.

Summit Monkey.

As I crested your saddle, you laughed in my face, but I only glimpsed your smile. Suddenly, a voice from the air cried out with discouraging discourse. "Eat pez" and "you won't make it to the summit... turn back now." But even the words of the wind could not dissuade my determination.

Onward. Upward. Over the deceiving pinnacles of the lackeys at your feet. Onward. Upward. At last, your crown was within reach.

Me on the summit.

Success! Your promontory peak now below me. You may have bested me first, but now you wallow under the dust of my shoe. Now, with reckless abandon, I must return again to the lowly valley. But not defeated. Today I stood tall on the apex of rock and time. Until we meet again, my friend, Mt. Raymond.

Map of Mt. Raymond via Butler Fork.

Meanwhile back in the Valley on the car ride home:

Jens: "Dude, I can't find my phone."
Sam: "Dude!!!!!!"
(sounds of maniacal cackling in the distance, coming from Mt. Raymond.)
Sam: "Did you hear that?"
Jens: "Hear what? My phone must have fallen out somewhere."
Sam: "It could be anywhere...it probably fell out when you biffed it right after I told you not to fall. That's only about 3/4 of a mile from the trail head. I gotta get home now, but we can go back up later today."
(more laughter)
Jens: "Ok, sounds good."

Blue dot = me. Purple dot = Jens' phone.

2:00 p.m. 100 degrees in the Valley.


Jens and I hike up to where he biffed it and search for his phone, but to no avail. With the help of modern technology and the Find Friends App. (luckily we had enough service one mile up to download the app) and the help of Jens' wife, whom we will call Mama Monkey, we were able to locate the phone. It was up on the saddle. Raymond, you sly dog. I got the best of you today and that wasn't ok. You had to bite at my heels?


Jens and I assessed the situation. We did not prepare ourselves for practically another full ascent. I brought no gear, no water, nada. It was 100 degrees and we were sweating in the shade like pigs in the mud. But we were there. Why wait? Why come back another time? So, we set out to retrieve the lost phone. I ran ahead of Jens and was feeling pretty good. I was sweating profusely but I didn't feel dehydrated. Luckily I had downed a full Powerade on the ride up. Why not test my limits? A double! Why not?

Jen's phone, right off the trail where he  
biffed it a little above the saddle.

Again voices came to me on the wind. "Is it fear or courage that motivates you?" and, "so...very...thirsty." and, "It's too freaking hot." and "find a stream higher up or eat some snow...or drink your urine." and finally, "you are going to die...and a coyote will eat your corpse." Once again, I paid no heed to Raymond's voice in the wind. I only let it motivate me to move forward.

So, after much sweating, dry mouth, and another round of dusty trail running I found the phone and headed down. Yet again I was up against a deadline. I had to be home by 5:00 p.m. to teach a trombone lesson. If I had about 25 more minutes I would have summitted again, but alas. I think Raymond and I are at a stalemate. I will see you under my dusty feet again.

We need rain!