No calamities with Jane

Awhile back I threatened that my next houseguest had best bring hiking boots 

so that we could explore this mysterious cross at the top of the cliff.

As luck would have it, my recent houseguests read this blog and remembered their boots.

Good thing, too, because it was a very steep and rocky climb.

Reaching the top of the cliff was something of a religious experience in and of itself.

There were no signs or other clues to explain the origins of the cross, so the mystery lives on.

I'm not sure what Danni was photographing here, but if she pointed her lens far off into the distance,

she might have been able to see the roof of my house. Or not.

Danni and JaneK took turns trying to give me a heart attack.

I kept telling them that we were s.o.l. if somebody got hurt, but did they listen to me? No. 

Their sense of adventure paid off, though, because we discovered a petroglyph mural I had not stumbled across previously.

I love touring my neighborhood with people who get as excited as I do about packrat-poop-filled caves.

And anybody who gets this excited about finding cow bones is welcome back any time.