Like a robot programed to receive (as in never leave a well established routine), I moved along the same trail I trode upon dozens of times over the years. Anxiety was beginning to percolate between the gusts of wind that were nearing 45 miles an hour and pointed at my face. OK, actually the wind was a nice reminder that I wasn't laying in bed, or watching the talking heads on cable news, or another episode of Game of Thrones, for that matter.
When I reached the sphere, I went right, instead of left, something I've never done before. The program was overwritten. Up and up some more, until I reached Pleasants Peak, 3,860'.
Sixty miles in every direction.
|Catalina Island From Pleasants Peak|