Took me three hours.

Awesome. Captivating. Compelling. I'm getting a panoramic view of Arizona. From atop something called Lousley Hill. But it feels more like a mountain top. I can see very, very far. The flat sagebrush covered desert below. But off in the distance -- mountains. Peak after peak after peak. No matter where I look on the horizon. In every direction. Mountains. Brown and black colored. From dense, lush growth of pine trees. Down below. My parked pick-up truck. A mere red speck. Oh, if only I were a bird. I'd drift. Glide. All the way down. A metal railing keeps me from tumbling down. As I came up on a winding path, I spotted a woman. With a backpack. Leaning over the railing. But she's gone now. Apparently, there's another route down. Not the same one I climbed. I wonder if the early explorers wondered what lie beyond the mountains. And how long would it take to cross the divide. Maybe months. And to think, I flew down here from Minnesota. Took me three hours. --Jim Broede