In the wintertime, when its not raining, I climb hills. I choose the cold weather because the rattlesnakes are hibernating. To the northwest of where I live, there’s a lake surrounded by buttes and hills. One of these hills, Eagle Pass, so-named because bald eagles used to fly between the volcanic monoliths on its top, is more than seven hundred feet tall.
It can be a challenging climb. Hidden in the grass exists loose pieces of volcanic rocks, ankle twisters that can send you tumbling down the way you came up. The trail starts out as thirty-degree slope, but after a couple of hundred yards, it becomes a forty-five degree slope. Further up, it becomes a seventy degree slope. And near the top, it’s almost vertical. You need to lean forward and hold onto the earth, climbing the last yards as if were climbing a ladder.
But it’s worth it. At the top, you can literally see for miles. On foggy days, you ascend above the fog and gaze down on it. On rainy days, the top is shrouded in cold and wet clouds. And on very hot, summertime days (yes, I’ve climbed it during summertime, too, when rattlesnakes are waiting for to make mistakes, hiding beneath rocks and tree branches to taste your blood) you feel like your standing above the world.
Even so, it’s just a hill. I’ve climbed mountains ten thousand feet tall, and more. I’ve climbed cliffs consisting of brittle rock. I’ve pulled myself up cliffs to encounter rattlesnakes, their tongues flickering at me, just inches from the top and have had to lower myself down (hoping the rattlesnakes don’t strike my fingers) and search for alternative routes up (also hoping that there aren’t any other rattlers in front of me).
Yet, with all these other adventures, I find Eagle Pass the most challenging and most rewarding adventure of all. And, the most difficult to get down from. Again, because of all the ankle twisters hidden in the grasses.
So, that’s cool, but what am I talking about here, other than climbing mountains that might really be hills? (I should mention that I’ve been listening to Ravel’s “Bolero” while describing Eagle Pass.)
Simple. I’ve run out of things to say about writing, so I’m just going to start writing. One of the purposes of a blog is to show what you can do. Well, I can write. Most people can. And I can tell stories. Most politicians can, too, but I’m not a politician.
The problem with having one subject is you can exhaust it too soon. And writing long blogs also defeats the purpose of blogging, something most bloggers (such as myself) fail to recognize.
I’m told, by professionals, that you must blog a minimum of three times a week, and never much more than seven times. The best I’ve ever been able to do is one blog a week, and of late, once a month.
Well, if I was writing about politics, I could do a blog every five minutes. But there’s enough insanity in the world, which is why I don’t bother.
So, the next time I blog, which I hope will be in a day or two, I’ll start talking about “Ryder Mann”, a western I’m writing. I hope you all like it.
See you out there.