Nostalgia, Mountains, and Global Warming
In the previous post, I reported that on October 15, my wife and I went swimming in the nearby Whatshan Lake. In the meantime, we finally had some much-needed rain but the temperatures for this time of the year are still way above normal. My followers in their comments asked me when we would get our first frost. This question brought back some fond memories of my annual pilgrimage to the mountains. In the 1980s, I never climbed up to the 8200 ft McBride mountain alone. At least one of our five sons accompanied me. Our hike would take place near the end of August. Often the meadows of the lower valley were covered by a white blanket of frost. Fast forward to the presence. Heart Creek, our main source of water, almost ran dry this year. Our garden is still producing red beets and cherry tomatoes. Only yesterday I picked a basket full of these delicious fruits from the vine. This is just another piece of evidence of climate change. Quite frankly, as pleasant as an extended warm spell may be, it makes me quite a bit worried.
Our son Tony and I are on the plateau of McBride. (1986) The ridge behind us leads to the higher Mt. Hilda
My wife planted the tomatoes in the soil under the gravel. They enjoyed the extra heat from the rocks.