Of Snow and Ascents: Mount Tamalpais

After a week of highs in the 40s and 50s, Nebraska is getting hit with heavy snow - a nice, wet, thrilling type of snow that moves in, wrecks your plans, and moves out in time to make new plans for sledding, forts, and angels. You might say, well, that's Nebraska for ya. Warm one day, frigid the next. But I think that's why I live here.

I recently had the privilege of visiting a close friend in California in the San Francisco area where it's typically moderate in temperate with varying days of sun, rain, and clouds. Not quite as much variety as I'm used to here on the Plains, but perhaps enough for my friend who cherishes the sea and her particular coastal community.

While I was there, we saw sights in the city and enjoyed some awesome crab and halibut on Fisherman's Wharf, rides on a ferry and a cable car, and a bit of shopping in China Town. There were many highlights, but for you nature-lovers out there, this next part is what you want to pay attention to.

Mount Tamalpais. Sometimes referred to as Mt. Tam for short, this mountain overlooking the San Francisco Bay area seemed like a very large hill to me, compared to the Tetons in Wyoming, but it certainly didn't diminish it's majesty nor the spectacular views of the Pacific from the top. Our 8-mile hike began at Stinson Beach, followed Matt Davis Trail, detoured to summit the mountain, rejoined Matt Davis, and ended back near the beach. The most amazing part of the hike was the vibrant coastal plant and tree life, which was a shock to a Nebraskan like me. So thick and moist and mossy - like an enchanted forest overgrown with bent branches spreading in every direction. It almost had a mysterious character about it, like some hollow from Lord of the Rings. On our return path, several Redwoods shot up from the thick growth of the moist forest floor, much to my elation.

Perhaps I'll have to divulge more details in my next blog, but for now, let me clarify where this is going. Even though that region of California was so intoxicating, and it'd be great to visit again, I'm glad to be back in Nebraska for this snow storm. I'd hate to have it pass without feeling the wet flakes on my cheeks, hearing the crunch under my boots, and seeing the scotch pine sag from the weight of so many fragile white specs.