On the trail south of Hart's Pass, the colors were once again hart-stopping.


The following day I only went five miles before realizing that a number of conspiring factors would mean I either had to BOOK IT downhill 25 miles to make it into town so I could pick up my package at the PO or I could take a leisurely couple of days and explore a bit before the descent away from the views. That decision allowed me the time and wherewithal to find this place, which I reached at maybe 12:30 pm after tanking up on water. This unnamed ridge was my entire world for the rest of that day and I didn't descend until the morning of the following day, a new man. The sun was divine, the views were unsurpassed (here again, like on Scott Mountain in Crater Lake NP and the Slate Mountain Lookout Tower, I was high above the altitude that the Pacific Crest Trail meanders to and handsomely rewarded for the effort). All day I watched PCTers crawling along below like ants while the massive stone shadows bent and swayed over the precipices on both sides of my flattish camp. In this and the next photo the PCT is clearly visible in the distance hugging the slopes and offering good views, but nothing remotely like the "sea of mountains" sensation provided by this ridgetop.


That cliff drops to the valley floor 3,000 feet below.


How about this view of the same cliff? In the upper right one can spy my bright orange food bag and green backpack. Zooming in helps. That's where I slept that night.


Take this view and pretty much repeat in in every possible direction. That's where I found nirvana or enlightenment or whatever it is when a Jedi becomes a Jedi. Hehehe.