Palm Springs, California. A city is fabulous as we are.

The Riviera Palm Springs. December 2017.No place I would rather be. 

The Palm Springs Aerial Tramway.  A gondola that takes you up 8,516 feet to the Mt. San Jacinto State Park. Elevation: over a mile high. We had never been.

I got ready for my day by pulling on my full length compression hose, then squeezing myself into my skinny jeans. I ate extra salt for breakfast. This is my routine when I get on a plane. I love blood pressure. 

How I would do exercising at a high altitude, I had no idea. I was very careful. I let Mr. Pennington lead the way, so I could pay attention to placing my feet well on the ground and never stumble. I do not want to roll an ankle. I do not want to fall and hit my head. I have enough problems.

We hiked, took in the scenery, breathed in the wonderful air and took selfies. It was quiet and peaceful up there. I felt close to God. 

Mr. Pennington is from Alaska, so naturally he looks good on a mountain. 

My body had no problems keeping up. I was stunned. About five miles and all the flights climbed were at altitude. 

We had lunch at the restaurant up there. I was expecting mediocre. My expectations were wrong. I had the best burger I had had since my last night in Paris, along with a wonderful California wine. With our mountain high, we forgot to take a pic.

As we waited to for the gondola down, I had to work hard to hold in my tears. The air was dry and we had done so much exercise at a high elevation, I did not think I could take the fluid loss.

What were the bubbling tears about?

Sorrow over all the years of my life I lost to my wretched disease. Relief that I could know what it was like to feel this healthy and strong. I thought I would be only happy if I got well. It’s been complicated.

We made it back to the Rivera in time to catch the last bit of afternoon sun by the pool. No place I’d rather be.

The next day, neither of us had sore muscles. Must be all that high intensity training we both do. It really does condition you effectively. 

My feet hurt a little, but we went to the Palm Springs Art Museum anyway.

I considered taking a piece home as a souvenir.

The Palm Springs Art Museum is good enough to be Paris. Don’t miss it. Or Paris. If possible.

I made fun of nothing. It was all amazing. Lots of sculpture, which I love. Such a beautiful building, too. I was very moved.

I cannot wait to go back.