Dear Great Basin,
I’m writing to apologize. After I visited you in August, I neglected to post about your many charms. I must say that you are a cruel mistress, punishing with one hand, beckoning with the other.
I can’t much say I liked the long drive to reach you, but camping at 10,000 feet made the hideous drive seem worth.
The hike to Wheeler Peak damn near killed me,
but it was all forgotten after a relaxing stroll to some lovely lakes
and through some beguiling forests.
If beauty is only skin deep, yours lies well beneath the surface, in your caves.
Unfortunately, I didn’t bring my camera because I read that there was no flash photography and no tripods in the caves, and I was thinking, “Oh, hell, what’s the point? I’ll just live in the moment,” so I only brought my cell phone, and it was only after we were descending that I heard the ranger say that there were pretty heavy duty lights down there and that he would turn them on once in awhile to let us get pictures. So, I shall commemorate your beauty with some sucky cell phone pics.
These are my favorite of your formations because they look like some sort of alien creature. And you know, my dear, just how much I like alien creatures.
Had I known that you were a park that really required backcountry attention, Great Basin, I would have prepared better. Sadly, it is doubtful that I will ever see you again. And yet while I only knew you for a moment, I’ll never forget you. Especially that damn hike to Wheeler Peak. You bitch.
all other priorities rescinded 