I’ll be the first person to admit that I don’t really fit in living in southern California.  Although I do commute to my day job, I avoid the commuter culture.  I don’t send text messages unless absolutely necessary.  My idea of high-end clothing can’t be purchased at Nordstrom’s or Bloomingdale’s, and I had no idea who Justin Bieber is until my friend’s 9-year-old daughter introduced me (I still wouldn’t know him if he showed up at my front door).  So, I don’t really fit in here.

Part of that is my fault too: I’ve avoided fitting in.  Perhaps I’ve been afraid I’d actually start to like it here if I let myself.  So it was when I was introduced to the Sierra Nevada mountains.

Within one week of moving to southern California, I was in a car with my new boss driving up the Owens Valley to the White Mountains.  There’s no doubt the Sierra is an impressive range, but was cautious to give it too much credit.

“How cliché,” I thought, “everyone likes the Sierra.”

“What could be so special about this place?”

Eight years have passed.  In that time, I’ve stood in awe at the base of giant sequoias and granite monoliths.  Some of the most amazing geology in the west has been right under my feet.  In 2010 alone, I’ve walked more than 100 miles in the Sierra backcountry, most recently my wife and I took our 2 1/2 year old son on his first backpacking trip to the North Fork of Big Pine Creek (aka the Palisades, or Palisade Lakes).

Sunset, Second Lake, John Muir Wilderness, September 2010

We arrived at our campsite, high above one of the glacially-fed lakes about 5pm and set up our tent, and I went to filter water.  One of the most fantastic things about this time of year is that there are no mosquitoes.  I really can’t tell you how happy that makes me.  I got back to camp in time to see the day’s last vestiges of sunlight kissing the tops of the peaks to the north of us.

The following morning, I walked up to another one of the small chain of lakes in this area to photograph sunrise.  I’ve written before that I’m convinced there are no clouds in the Sierra.  My “curse” continued on this trip, with completely cloudless skies.  Alas.

First Light on Temple Crag, September 2010

After shooting sunrise, I walked back to camp, and enjoyed a morning reading of “One Zany Zoo” and some oatmeal.  After breakfast, we were very sad to pack up and walk back to the car.  Its at that moment, looking up at Temple Crag and the Palisade Crest that it hit me.  This is the place where my son is learning to love the outdoors.  This is more than just a pretty mountain range.  As part of a generation who will be more likely to save trees by sending emails rather than going outdoors to climb them, his groundwork for a sense of place is being laid down right here.

With that in mind, its easy to see why John Muir was so moved by this Range of Light.

"Babysitting", September 2010