We're up higher now. I can tell because the whole world seems to have "opened up". The highway is wandering about a little more now, through snowfields bounded by fir forests at the base of the mountainsides. Oh! And then there's the hypoxia. . .
Here's another place I could use that geologist. I'd love to know how that came about.
Along both sides of the highway there are steel stakes, 8 or 10 feet high, about every 50' to mark the highway for the snowplows. On this trip, however, the highways were clear and dry and the stakes at the side of the road poked through only one or two inches of snow - not much call for them. Except for one. I drove by it before I noticed a large hawk perched there, looking for voles or field mice, I guess - or just hangin', enjoying the bright clear morning. I shifted my eyes to the rear view mirror and he was still there. Would he stay? I turned around and drove back past him and pulled off the road. I got out with my camera, surprised he was still there, then - after looking both ways - crossed the highway to mosey a little closer. . . and he was gone. RATS! So I took the picture above. It's better than nothing.
This one's kinda like an earlier one, taking the picture normal to the ridge line. Not my preferred angle on the subject, but. . . Anyway, what does it for me here is the fir trees, specifically the play of the sunlight from behind, highlighting each individual tree.
The angle here is more to my liking, but I'm getting impatient. ARE WE THERE YET?
Great shots, Bill. Any geologists weigh in yet? No matter, I'm here. Looks like an igneous protuberance of some sort, no doubt having emerged from within the then live volcanic ridge as hot lava, perhaps cooled by deep layers of snow. Judging by the looks, said eruption probably presented itself in late January to early February (it's really cold in the Rockies that time of year). Moving on. . . .
ReplyDeleteNo. No geologists. But did you notice the other thing? It's called a stickout.
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