Sunlight and Altitude

6-11-12 0620 Wilson, WY. Sun climbing up through the trees, and down on the valley floor the fog is layering and curling. Brent says that when you take the lift up to ski, its sometimes 30 degrees warmer on top. Warm would be nice, but sunlight is enough just now, after several days of grey. Dogs barking here and there as the working people wake up and head out. Fugi is making small woofs of her own. Things have settled down; the resident giants are all male, so she occupies a pretty safe position, and is starting to take advantage of it, nipping back a bit, after spending some of the day yesterday under cars . Dinner at a Grille just off the square in Jackson last night, with another Alan, now retired from movie production, enjoying insider war stories from another profession. Like the details of how Steven got Rick hired to star in Encounters of the Third Kind, after his great work in Jaws. And it was great hanging out with Brent ; we were residents at SFGH together, when being in Family Practice meant jumping through all the hoops and hurdles that Internal Medicine set up to keep us from heading up clinical care teams. It’s easy for me to feel how the loyalties established in wartime, or in the equivalent business environment can be as strong as they are. Years after, I still feel he has my back, if needed. At 6148 feet, Wilson is high enough to evoke some DOE..dyspnea or shortness of breath with exertion. Going uphill, I turn to a kind of rapid diaphragm breathing that I ordinarily use only for more than 3 flights of stairs. Of course I could slow down. But there’s Babs, a flash of red through the aspens up along the trail, with Brent close behind and the furry flurry of large dogs..and today feels much less breathy. When we flew into Leh, Ladakh at 11,000, we just got in bed for the afternoon. But after a few days I was running comfortably. Maybe not today. Perhaps, as Sala says, we can’t go back to there. Yes, and balance is another issue. I feel that my medical practice has been like a good introduction to the chapters of the book I am only just getting to. I’ve heard about most of the aging changes years ago from patients who were a little further along the trail. So I feel philosophical, as I tumble down the slightly uneven path I might have only stumbled on a few years ago. And remind myself to treat a 40# pack as a fracture hazard, rather than merely a burden. On trails in the Markah Valley, old people walked between villages very very slowly. At night, if needed, they slept beside the trail. But the got there. Yes, and now the sun is splashed through the green of the foliage in big buttery patches, and although it will mean going down into the fog, I want to get going. After all, Old Faithful waits for no human say-so or denial. So far. Best, Alan