I park the truck and make my way across a sturdy wooden bridge, which allows passage across the swift-flowing Line Pine Creek. Up a hillside and I am in the desert; not high desert like in Reno, but desert-desert . . . white sand, small sage, and the truest wild cacti I have ever seen.
Following the trail guide, I make my way to the wash some distance away, which skirts the Alabama Hills. These hills are often seen in movies due to their abundant, oblong rock formations. It’s hot out here, very hot, but I try my best to conserve water. I continue on around the hillside, following the path of rainwater wash that by the dryness must have been formed sometime last century. I must climb over a boulder here and there, which adds a little excitement, but I begin getting frustrated as I see no sign of a natural arch.
After about an hour out in this scorching sun and with night rapidly approaching, I decide to call it quits. I have a five hour drive home and will need a bit more than two hours of sleep if I am to work tomorrow.
For now, this natural arch eludes me, but I shall return. . .
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