Boulder Scrambling at Anza Borrego
Take a hike!
I consider the group hard core. In other words, I could not keep up with them. The last time I hiked with them was almost 10 months ago at Tecate Peak. Prior to the Tecate Peak, I hike with them for El Cajon Peak. Isabel had to leave me at the summit so she could go to her weekend work. I would have hiked with Isabel and her +1 today, but she cancelled.
I would always be hiking with old and new acquaintances. There's Marina who I picked up grapes with. She's quiet and I liked her. Of course, she's also foreign-born. I am hiking with Susan for the first time and she's not that quiet. There was Linda, kind of a hard core. She has done the Cactus to Clouds Hike for San Jacinto Mountains. There's also Ken who recently moved to San Diego from the East Coast. Ken Kugel was there, I hiked with him at Eagle Rock, a PCT area. I was being led into the Smuggler's Canyon for the first time by Tim Mc. Blair Valley, Pictograph Trail, Slut Canyon, Alcoholic Pass... I am not really sure on the names of the trails. 
Tim Mc was more like a parent than a troop leader. There were whiners and stragglers. He gave instructions to experienced hikers who emerged as instant leads: wait at the fork ahead
Some hundred years ago, these boulders was a village. While women pounded on acorn on rocks made into mortars to make flour for tortillas, male adults were training adolescent men to be hunters. The pictographs were said to be drawings of young men and women preparing for their first hunt or announcing their first menstruation.
Linda thought the pictographs illustrated some double standards then. While women pounded and gossiped in front of their morteros, men were elsewhere looking for hunts, boys were left close to the boulders to entertain themselves. Just like a fence or a wall to modern day urban adolescents, these Kumeyaay adolescents had the boulders to scribble whatever their they imagined.
The photo was uploaded by Ken, the transplant from the East Coast. There was Marina, George,
Linda and myself scrambling on the boulders that used to be shelters to the Native Americans that inhabited the canyons.
We smile some more for a group photo unmindful of the cholla cactus that seemed to punish us for intruding. The yuccas and the boulders seemed to invite us to be back.
I consider the group hard core. In other words, I could not keep up with them. The last time I hiked with them was almost 10 months ago at Tecate Peak. Prior to the Tecate Peak, I hike with them for El Cajon Peak. Isabel had to leave me at the summit so she could go to her weekend work. I would have hiked with Isabel and her +1 today, but she cancelled.
I would always be hiking with old and new acquaintances. There's Marina who I picked up grapes with. She's quiet and I liked her. Of course, she's also foreign-born. I am hiking with Susan for the first time and she's not that quiet. There was Linda, kind of a hard core. She has done the Cactus to Clouds Hike for San Jacinto Mountains. There's also Ken who recently moved to San Diego from the East Coast. Ken Kugel was there, I hiked with him at Eagle Rock, a PCT area. I was being led into the Smuggler's Canyon for the first time by Tim Mc. Blair Valley, Pictograph Trail, Slut Canyon, Alcoholic Pass... I am not really sure on the names of the trails. There were others who seemed to clueless at what they signed up to: pain and gain along with some bushwhacking and boulder scrambling.
Tim Mc was more like a parent than a troop leader. There were whiners and stragglers. He gave instructions to experienced hikers who emerged as instant leads: wait at the fork aheadSome hundred years ago, these boulders was a village. While women pounded on acorn on rocks made into mortars to make flour for tortillas, male adults were training adolescent men to be hunters. The pictographs were said to be drawings of young men and women preparing for their first hunt or announcing their first menstruation.
The photo was uploaded by Ken, the transplant from the East Coast. There was Marina, George,
Linda and myself scrambling on the boulders that used to be shelters to the Native Americans that inhabited the canyons.
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