Faint echoes of the desolate views and overpowering solitude also found within the magnificent basin-and-range topography across northern Nevada. There I once noticed the sound of wind in my ears, only to realize that the surrounding cheatgrass was motionless. Rather, it was the blood in my ear drums I was hearing. I recall thinking how one never experiences anything like that in a city.
Faint echoes of the desolate views and overpowering solitude also found within the magnificent basin-and-range topography across northern Nevada. There I once noticed the sound of wind in my ears, only to realize that the surrounding cheatgrass was motionless. Rather, it was the blood in my ear drums I was hearing. I recall thinking how one never experiences anything like that in a city.
Great story, Ken. Iceland is usually very windy, and this was no exception. The wind was blowing hard, whistling in our ears, lending no opportunity to hear my heartbeat or blood flow. This place is very desolate; there are no power lines, no cell phone towers, one single dirt road going in and out of the area; that road and hiking trails are the only signs of humanity. We walked ten miles that day, in rough terrain, with steep elevation changes, up and down rocks, while carrying a Hasselblad kit and a small tripod. It was fairly brutal, but an experience I will never forget. I felt truly alive there, truly present, and truly in love with life. It was awesome, in the true sense of the word.
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