The Goldilocks Distance

Do you like Geology? Well, I don’t care if you do or don’t, I like geology. And here’s an example as to why:

Mountains are incredible things. They can invoke feelings of awe from anywhere, they can deceive you in the distance and smother you up close (also, they can kill you up close). They’re colorful, old and dull, young and sharp, and give an example of what the earth can do. But there is a narrow window of distance that lets you truly appreciate their history.

If you too far away, you can’t see the gradations in the rock – you only take in the general view of jagged rocks covered in snow. If you are too close, then you can see some gradation, but it is isolated. Being close enough where you can see an entire mountain from base to tip but also high enough are looking at it at eye-level (not craning your neck to see the peak) - this is where you can see how awesome a mountain is. You see a set of layers span an entire mountain; you see some are buckled and facing odd angles. It’s an incredible sight and makes you really appreciate the geologic forces at work. All those layers used to be ground level and flat. It takes a bit of umph to get them where they are now.

We spent the other day having a lunch amongst the mountains via an old pass to Argentina. Imagine dear readers a road of unparalleled squiggles. 28 hairpin turns to the top; passing giant semis and squealing each turn as if you’re in a battle with the giant itself. Halfway up the mountain relents, and lets you pass through without much more climb. You think you may have won, but the avalanches occurring a little higher makes you think that perhaps by conceding now, the mountain is doing the noble thing and allowing you to live. Thank you Mountain.