The air was cool, a bit, but the sun even at 6:45 was starting to feel warm. I jumped in my truck and made it to White house trail head. I was the only person on the trail. I went through a tunnel in the rock and descended down a tiny path worn in the slick orange brown rock. The trail was a short but steep one, and only 30 min later I was looking at the White house ruins. Deep in the shaded canyon a few Navajo women began to set up their wares for sale. The quiet was shattered by the echos of laughter from the two, and an very loud circling hawk. I watched the sun change the color of the sheer rock walls all around me. This was solitude at its best. Even with the laughter and bird it seemed so very quiet. A place of beauty that I did not want to leave. As I ascended up the trail I now felt the pull from my backpack, sweat now covering my back as the heat began to rise. The few people I encountered had a look of astonishment on their faces as they took in this marvel of nature, and I'm sure I must have had the same look on my face, all alone feeling just for awhile that this was mine.