Installment No. 2 (My Thoughts on Mountains)

You know, I've most certainly never had anything against mountains. Really. It's true. I find them fascinating geological features that are simultaneously awe-inspiring and thought-provoking, noting that they often disclose clues to just how the world as we know it came into being. I love them more than key lime pie and roller skates. Blanket them with snow and I love them even more...raking them right up there with the old-fashioned Elmer's Paste that used to come in a jar with the little plastic dipstick applicator. Mountains rock (no pun intended, heh heh). And now that we've established my basic feelings on these enormous landmark features, let me state the following: If you want mountains, head on over to Colorado or the Appalachians, because I sure am damn tired of seeing them around here.

What is this, you say? Have I finally truly gone off the deep end? Am I so far off the beaten path now that even the bread crumb trail I left behind has been consumed by crows? HA! Hardly the case. Feel free to read on for clarification...

As you all well know, I live in Texas...DFW to be exact. And as any local can tell you, there aren't supposed to be mountains here. In fact, there aren't supposed to be ANY geological features that would be considered as more than simple molehills. There may be a few notably deep creek beds and some pretty impressive terrain [hills and elevations] around some of the (man-made) lakes that dapple the area map, but I can assure you, without any lack of certainty, that there aren't supposed to be any damned mountains 'round here. Call up Dr. Breyer, my old Intro to Geology Professor and he can confirm these statements.

So where are these mountains of which I speak, you ask? Heh, they're everywhere. Just recently, I was befuddled by a situation in which a few persons with whom I have an acquaintance pointed to one of the local molehills and declared, "Why, thar be a mountain!" Believe it. It's true. And the ruckus created by this statement ended up wasting countless hours contacting the local Land Management organization to have said molehill measured, surveyed, documented, rated, and ultimately proclaimed as, indeed, nothing but a molehill. Countless hours wasted. Time and effort which could have been spent doing something a) necessary, b) more entertaining, c) pointless but fun. But NO-O-O-O. Instead said time was spent with the geologic survey team disproving a statement made both in haste and heat of passion.

So...What can we learn from this? That mountains are great. I love 'em to pieces. But in order to prevent detracting from the awe-inspiring beauty and grandeur of true mountains, let's not race about, pointing our fingers and shouting, making mountains out of molehills, when everyone knows better. If ya wanna see mountains, baby, get your John-Denver-lovin'-Aspenglow-mountain-mama-ass to Colorado, West Virginia, or the Great Smokey Mts. in Kentucky. I've got maps, should you need direction.

Thank you.