Death march on Rebel Rock.My friend Dylan dragged my flabby ass up Rebel Rock a couple years ago. I had been cocooned on the couch for a long time and he suggested that what I needed was a vigorous walk. It was. I'm not sure of mileage or elevation gained except to say it was freaking long and steep. We got there in the dark and I had my last experience with freeze dried stroganoff. I was feeling a little nauseous from unaccustomed exertion and the big bowl of glop that smelled like reconstituted vomit just did not hit the spot.
The next day was sublime with views and wildflowers and the old fire lookout. I have maintained my resolve never to be quite as fat and lazy again.