Driving into American History,1

During my staying in US, I did a number of long-distance travels. As an old saying goes,"He travels the fastest who travels alone", most of the time, I traveled by myself and I really enjoyed the process.

My first experience began at Mt. Rainier National Park. There the zigzag mountain road lead me to Paradise after half a hour, where I hiked till Muir Snowfield, about 7300 ft in that season. At the moment of reaching the beginning of Pebble Creek, I had the same feeling of Mo, who is a fictitious character in one of my stories many years ago, just as if I once dreamed of this scene. In the following days, I drove around Mt. Rainier from west to northeast, to Sunrise. I stopped on the way from time to time, thinking,"What a wonderland!"By the evening I was in Packwood, filling the gas tank. It was Labor Day holiday, and there was a flourishing farmer's market in town. Seeing people trading in the background of snow-capped mountains and forests, that was a miraculous feeling of reality.

After my coming back from Seattle, I read the story of John Muir, together with his book-The Mountains of California, and was deeply moved by his description of the landscape in the book, which was accurately and vividly, with respect and love to the nature. Meanwhile, when visiting the Reynolda House Museum, I learnt the Reynolds family history. Something touched my heart while it comes to Smith Reynolds's son's death, the 17 year old young man perished when he was climbing Mount Whitney. I decided to visit California's mountains-this decision could be a call from angel, or it could from devil-but anyway, I must go and see for myself.