Heading out toward cold dark mountain rock, cautious booted feet crunch their way from my car, over the wooden footbridge, and up the tree-lined path to Bald Rock Mountain. The light from my cell phone is too weak to do much good, so I turn it off to save the battery. It’s dark on the mountain but not pitch dark. The hard rock surface feels solid under my boots. My goal is only a few hundred feet way, near the center of the clearing. I want the best view I can have as the sun comes over the horizon. I’m armed with hot coffee in my thermos, camera strap over my shoulder.

In the dead of winter, if you time it just right, the car will be parked, the coat zipped up, and the camera strap hung across your shoulder. You can walk over that little footbridge, up that short path, and out onto a mountain made of rock.

When you stand atop Bald Rock you can see for miles. The mountain's rock face is massive. Though lined with trees, what you initially step onto is mostly bare rock, and, in some spots, it is treacherous. On one side, there is a rock cliff that goes almost straight down for fifty feet or more. To the right of the cliff is a more leisurely, but still quite steep decline to the bottom of the mountain, the whole mountain appearing to be made of one massive chunk of rock.