There have been very few places in my life where I have felt freedom. I think the first place I discovered this sense of liberty was the beach. Whether San Diego and San Luis Obispo, whenever I was able to walk along the sand or bob up and down in the rolling waves in the ocean, I felt at peace. The second place I remember discovering this sense of tranquility was when I moved to Morro Bay. This was connected to the ocean but more than that it was my first experience on my own. Still, I remember a huge pull for me to move to Morro Bay involved getting out of the city. Again, it was an expression of freedom. Now at the age of 45, I think I have discovered another example of freedom, and that is in the mountains.
When the weekend arrived, Mary and I escaped to Big Bear where we attended a jazz festival. The music was good, and actually this one guitarist was smoking hot. His name is Jay Santo and he had all the moves of Elvis but with the jazz guitar savvy of Joe Pass. Really good. But the highlight of the whole concert was the setting: an intimate amphitheater nestled among the pine trees.
Mary loved the experience and had to get her photo taken with Jay Santo. Here are a couple of photos of her with Jay and his drummer.
Exploring The MountainThe next day, we explored the top of the ski slopes via the chairlifts. This was an amazing experience. The lifts elevate up nearly 1,000 feet and to see the tops of the forest through the bottom of your feet is quite breathtaking.
On the top of the mountain, the air is so fresh and so clean. It is filled with the sweet smell of pine and lake water.
I remember reading “For Whom The Bell Tolls” by Hemingway, and being totally aware of the surroundings he described while living in the mountains above Spain. While at the top of Big Bear, I felt the same sensations as when reading this novel. What was amazing about the mountain, was when we walked on one side, you could see the breathtaking vistas that overlook the lake. It was as beautiful as anything I had ever seen. However, when you walk to the back side of the mountain, you could see the well known San Gregorio Mountain, which reaches into the heavens at 11,000 feet. The old man that lives next door to me often describes the day he and four friends climbed San Gregorio. It took them 6 hours. Amazing. Of course we grabbed a quick bite to eat, a couple of beers, and then we headed down the mountain again.
Playing a Couple of HolesOnce in the valley, we decided to play a little golf. Mary has been practicing and was more than game to hit a few balls into the alpine air. So we shot a few shots, played a couple of practice holes, and then headed back to Los Angeles.
