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The day we left Cupertino I had got a California hiking guide from the library, and I read it, with Bobbi driving, on the fly, and selected the highest possible trailhead up from the town of Shasta, at the end of a road where someone had tried to establish a ski resort that had succumbed to elements that only a mountain can bring to bear. We all hiked to the place where the ski lifts had been left abandoned, and the kids played in the snow patches there. I continued upmountain to the ridge line, where I could see clearly below the trail leading from a lower trailhead out of the tree line to the summit. Here I was, standing at a flat place on the ridge, halfway up the mountain, evidence of campfires where others had utilized this windy but otherwise ideal camping spot, on a crystal clear day, staring down at the trail and up at the snowy summit where it led, no clouds in sight -- this would be the day you would want to climb it ... you get my drift?? I'm sure when I return, I will be dodging rain squalls, cold and wet, and cursing dodgy visibility. Mt. Shasta is 14,000 ft tall and unpredictable. But it can be conquered in a day! Tempting! I continued my walk around the ridge to an eyrie called Green Butte, enjoyed the views, ate snow for water, and cascaded down the scree when I wanted to go back. The family had long since returned to the car.
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