Number 9

What's up with #9 these days? This was the sign that greeted Ramona and I as we returned to the land of the living after trying a new Griffith Park trail ( I use the term trial loosely.)

There's the musical NINE, the animation film 9, the sci fi flick District 9...ah well I am too relieved from this morning's hike to really care. The hike was fun and frightening because the route I choose was very steep and narrow. From Dante's View it looked great and I saw other folks on it so hey... "let's go Ramona."  As I slipped down the first slope on my ass I thought "Nice going Eastman. You're uninsured and you are trying to climb down a mtn side. You're a complete idiot."  2 hours later as I gave Ramona a bowl of water in the car and swigged some out of the bottle myself I was exhilarated.  I'd not broken anything, scratches were minimal Ramona was fine and I hadn't ripped a hole in my pants.  By the way, at least 5 hikers saw my predicament and nary a one yelled "RU OK?"  Nothing. Squat. Only a scowl from an elderly man who saw Ramona at the bottom of the grade off leash.  Really people, if I'd broken my neck would you have at least called 911? Anyway, life goes on.  Here's one part of the "trail" (past the green grass) I had to negotiate on my butt.  Sometimes I scratch my head and wonder.