Back in the saddle again

Three hours, one pair of hiking boots and $20 worth of no nutrional value later, Angela and I were at my boss' cabin in the beautiful surroundings of the Big Horn Mountains for a weekend of hiking, reading, camping, conversating, campfiring, drinking and lots and lots of eating. The highlight — though there were many — had to be the hike Ang and I took with Ann (that would be my boss) up to the top of a formation aptly known as "split rock," well, aptly known, at least, to the Franscells... After a deceivingly steep climb through fields of yellow, blue, red and purple wildflowers then a field of ominously loose shale, we ended up atop one of several sheer rock plateaus that rose more than 150 feet straight out the little mountain we had just spent an hour climbing. From there, we looked out for dozens of miles onto the (from a distance, at least) gentle slopes of lush mountains that drift down to the west and the brown baren badlands of the Big Horn Basin. It was, in a word, awesome.