The day after Christmas, I went up to Reno with some friends. On the way back we stopped by Tahoe to get in some rec time. I’m not much of a snowboarder (after photography, who has the money for snowboarding?) so while my friends were out hitting the slopes, I went snowshoeing.
It was fantastic.
The grounds, Royal Gorge, is the largest cross-country ski resort in the country. It’s massive. And every few miles or so along the trails they have these warming huts. Smartest ideas ever. Especially as they were usually positioned right by a fantastic view, so you could take in some of the scenery as you rested.
Still coulda used an outdoor jacuzzi, but I guess that’s the point of roughing it.
While camping in West Virginia, we spent one of the days hiking a small mountain. It’s hard to tell from the photo, but we’re actually at a summit a few hundred (maybe even a thousand) feet up.
After eating our lunches on and enjoying the view from the summit, we decided to make our way down. As we left the plateau, I noticed this cross, right by the edge.
It was pretty clearly man-made, as evidenced by the barbed wire that was used to hold the cross-plank. I can only assume it’s there because someone slipped and fell off the mountain.
The more I looked at the cross, the more I wondered. How old was it? Who had fallen? What had happened? Were they old? Young? Male? Female? How many people were in their party? What must it have been like, the terror and panic and chaos? Who left the cross there?
I looked for a name on the cross but didn’t find one. And as I had to get close to the ledge — the very ledge that I presume this person fell from — to see the front of the cross, as soon as I saw there was no name I retreated.
Be funny if it had actually just been put there by a local in order to keep hikers on their guard by letting them think someone had died there.
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