Standing on the bridge, you are able to watch the flow of water over the boulders and on down the mountain.
Bill jumped ahead and for a good distance he troughed through pristine snow.
The woods became misted, creating a dream-like aura: Limbs flocked with snow, vertical lines of bark, dark lines against the pure white reaching up and up.
As a group, we grew quiet as we climbed; awed by this gift of nature we were witness to. We pointed out scenes in near whispers:. "Look at this," one would say as we all turned to gaze at a laden pine shaped like a perfect christmas tree. "Oh, look," another would voice, pointing out a growth of rhododendron mounded with white. Many had never witnessed hoar-frost and Wayne delighted in pointing it out. The atmosphere became etheral, the mountain sacred and we were there to worship, sharing joyous moments amongst friends. We knew each of us was thankful for the experience and each conscous that these moments could never again be recreated. We delighted in each bend of the trail and arrived at the firetower on a high note! The next few pictures offer only a glimpse of what we saw for there is no way a camera can convey the true beauty.
All in all we accomplished 8.2 miles, but more than the miles of hiking, it was the experience of a lifetime with dear friends.