Words From 50 Years PDF Print

From The Dragon Roars by Kathi Rivers Shannon:
(copyrighted)

It’s September 29, 2001, and my husband Greg and I are about a quarter of the way up Aasgard Pass on our way into the upper basin of the Enchantment Lakes in the Washington Cascades, climbing slowly. A bruised dent throbs high on my cheekbone, the crease at the same angle and depth as the one on my hiking pole. A roar fills our ears. We search the sky for a jet. Airplanes are on our minds—camping at Colchuck Lake at the bottom of Aasgard Pass the previous evening, we had noticed them flying again after the 9/11 terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon. A major east-west flight pattern skirts the southern edge of the Enchantments.

But this is no jet. Greg suddenly pulls me behind a boulder the size of a Volkswagen bug. Rocks are rolling and dust is rising from the top of the pass. I no longer think about the six-inch scrape screaming down my forearm or the half-dollar scrape on my knee under the rip in my pants. I am wondering if the rocks will kill us this time.

 

From Peg Stark’s journal, October 4, 1969:
(copyrighted)

Then we climbed Little Anna Purna. It was utterly beautiful with rippled wind patterns on the snow making drifts in places and wind crust in others. The rocks were often coated with ice and when we reached the top where much of the snow had blown off, gardens of ice had formed on the grass blades. There were strands of gossamer flying off the summit.

Last Updated on Friday, 29 January 2010 05:45
 

© Copyright 2010 Greg Shannon, Kathi Rivers Shannon, Margaret P. Stark
Designed by ComputAbility LLC