There is something particularly breath-taking about walking over a frozen wash in the Wonderland of Rocks area in Joshua Tree National Park. Ice groans and snaps underfoot; sand is glued together to form an unintended sculpture. Gray fox prints are filled in with hail. He sees me and glides over the rocks to a safe distance. What is it about this place that is so magical that I am drawn back to it again and again? Each time I return I find another reason to smile; another memory is made that I will not soon forget.
The faces of climbers who live to be on the rock; the choir of coyotes at two in the morning; the never-failing falling stars; the ache in my limbs as I crawl into my sleeping bag after a day of climbing: what more could I ask for than this?
Someone to share it with for the rest of my life.
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