Dear Jake & Amelia,
We walked the Ramparts Trail to visit the old bristlecone pines. The grandfather tree here is more than 1600 years old. The trail followed a rim of golden badlands that resemble those of Bryce Canyon. The fertile crust of the Markagunt Plateau had broken away to reveal yellow, rose and white layers of eroded and uplifted rock. We walked a narrow dirt path between subalpine forest and the edge of the badlands. 

The trail wound, rose slightly, descended, then left the trees. It followed a ridge of white earth that reached out into the golden rocks. Here, at over 10,000 feet, growing out of barren white earth, we found a number of bristlecone pines, each with its own tortured, twisted shape, each with its own personality. Part dead, part alive, their needles were green and their pine cones covered with sap. Their bark was both smooth and white, gray and textured. Their roots were exposed by centuries of erosion. They held on, their trunks reaching up, out, or over, their arms twisted by fierce winds. They grew where nothing else could. They had a strange beauty that commanded respect.

Nancy & Peter

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