February 25, 2024


sights and trips

A trek up Mout San Jacinto renews the soul

Mount San Jacinto is photographed as a weather system moves in from the west on December 28, 2020.

“One will have to understand … if he is to transcend his worry of meaninglessness, for no volume of ‘progress’ can choose its position.” — Peter Matthiessen

There is snow on the mountains over Palm Springs.

A month back I established out on the grueling trek up Mount San Jacinto on the Skyline Path —reaching a snowless Grubb’s Notch nestled at 8,600 feet just over the boulder and pine-forested slopes of the Traverse.

Butterflies pirouetted concerning bouquets on the lupine and columbine-laden incline.

The Coachella Valley glittered like diamonds in the desert rough below.

It was a human body and soul-regenerating work out and experience.

Owning not long ago examine Peter Matthiessen’s “The Snow Leopard” designed me keenly knowledgeable of the mountain’s spiritual significance.

Mount San Jacinto as seen from the Pacific Crest Trail. The photo was taken along the 2.5-mile portion of the trail that connects Snow Creek with Interstate 10.

Alluring as enlightenment itself, a hike up this austere and mysterious mountain finally attaches itself to a pilgrimage of self-awareness—where the weighted defend of moi falls absent revealing the perception of our real character and unity with the pure world.

The journey is the Jewel in the Lotus, the Way, the Tao or the Path.

We abide in the shadow of a actually magic mountain.

Recognizing a number of teams of desert bighorn sheep on the ascent introduced to intellect the varied wildlife inhabiting our San Jacinto Mountains and the Santa Rosa Selection.

On our mountain, mammals, birds and reptiles are myriad.

Through the trek, I observed many species of the chipmunk and squirrel, lizard and salamander—even snakes (a mountain kingsnake and southern Pacific rattler) and mule deer near the halfway position marker of stones spelling out 4,300 ft.

Mount San Jacinto is covered in snow as seen from 30th Avenue in Cathedral City on Saturday, November 30, 2019.

Witnessing animals in their normal habitat is worlds aside from seeing them in captivity—only the former necessitates us to look for and, together the procedure, grow to be seekers.

Sensing their presence, I questioned and viewed with heightened senses—waiting in vain for a grey fox or mountain lion to show up out of the chaparral or rock outcroppings.

But most startling of all was the trash.

Rogue remnant wrappings discarded from energy bars and gel packs became ever more visible on ascent.