Topo Home Horton Spring Album Guide
Technology is a wonderful thing - in moderation. The other day I was reflecting on how fortunate I am that the Iridium project was not a resounding success. I understand it was designed to provide phone communications to any spot on the globe. Now I don’t want to sound gleeful at the demise of someone’s pet project or the evaporation of their investor’s money, but one of the many benefits of my weekend sojourns is that no one can get in touch with me. None of my several electronic tethers function on the trail – Iridium, with it’s 8 pound phone, would have ruined that.
Access to the trail head for Horton trail is paved all the way to the paved parking lot. I pulled the family sedan into a parking place and immediately noticed about 10 people had arrived as a group. Just my luck, a hiking club from Mesa had managed to synchronize their arrival to match mine. Getting out to stretch my legs, I looked around to locate the “rest station”. As I spotted it, I noticed a couple on the other side of the lot who were making a bee-line for it too. I wasn’t worried about her, as there was accommodations for each gender, but he seemed rather determined to ignore my age, my long drive and my sense of urgency. It didn’t matter, I had parked closer and easily defeated my younger rival to the one-holer. When there is a line for the rest room at a trail head, you really have to wonder what will the rest of the day be like.
The group from Mesa could easily be categorized into 3 groups, 1) the spandex bunch, 2) the fit but aged or aging and 3) the 300 pounders. It didn’t take long on the trail for the three groups to segregate from each other even though they all were able to find and stay on the main trail. In the meantime, I took the first side trail I could find and moved along the creek as much as possible. Every once in a while I would resurface to the main trail and re-pass the two slower groups as they struggled along. Finally I caught up to the spandex group and as I passed I heard a callous young man ask the others in his group, “what is the protocol for waiting on the laggards, anyway?” At least he didn’t say 300 pounders. After that I stayed down on the angler’s trails as much as possible.
Changing subjects; we are departing for Spain this Wednesday. My bride, Ms. Trekker, is the off-spring of a wonderful woman from Ohio, who just happens to believe it is necessary to pack 6 weeks in advance of any trip outside of the city limits. I am convinced this obsession is a gender linked, inherited trait. On the other hand of course, I see no real need to start packing until they have started the engines on the craft of conveyance. This morning, just after breakfast, tensions started running rather high! An ultimatum was issued that even though it was only Sunday morning, the Trekker was required to pack! Why? We are only going to be gone for 10 days, how long can it take to pack a fresh shirt and a change of underwear? Geez, and my sister-in-law has not even chimed in yet – stay tuned, this could get to be interesting! (No I didn't!)
Trekker