The View Beyond The Parking Lot
- Michael Kennedy
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read

There’s a small parking lot at Donner Summit, beside the old Rainbow Bridge, where people arrive from all over the country to take in the view.
Most step out of their cars, walk a few feet, and stand beside them.
Some never get out at all. They lower a window, or simply look through the windshield, take a photograph, and drive away.

The other day, I parked there, and began climbing the granite slabs and boulders. I wanted to get away from the traffic and discover what might be waiting beyond the view everyone else was seeing.
When I returned, a man standing near his car asked me, “Is it worth the hike?”

“Yes,” I told him. “But be careful. It can be a little dangerous around here.”
Then I described what I had found: ancient trees shaped by centuries of radical weather. Unexpected pockets of color growing from cracks in the granite. Views of Donner Lake impossible to see from the parking lot.

A feast for the eyes.
The man decided to go.

His wife stayed behind with their two teenage children.
Maybe they had made the climb before. Or they were tired. Who knows?
But as I got into my car, I noticed the two teenagers staring down at their phones, scrolling through distant worlds while an immense one surrounded them.

In his book, The Anxious Generation, Jonathan Haidt has written about how childhood has gradually shifted from a play-based life to a phone-based one, from exploring the physical world with all its uncertainty, freedom, and manageable danger to inhabiting a carefully engineered digital world designed to hold our attention for as long as possible.
The climb above and below Rainbow Bridge contains exactly what a screen cannot provide: uneven granite beneath your feet, wind against your face, the faint scent of sun-warmed pine, and the small but unmistakable thrill of choosing your own route.

There's risk, to be sure, but there's also discovery.
Ed Yong reminds us that every living creature experiences its own particular version of the world. A bird sees colors we cannot see. An insect detects vibrations we never feel. A dog discovers an entire landscape through scent. Each inhabits its own sensory universe, even while standing in the same place.

And yet we human beings, blessed with such a rich assortment of senses, can sometimes reduce our world to a glowing rectangle held a few inches from our faces.
The forest treasure on Donner Summit is alive with stories.
But to encounter any of it, you have to get out and look around.

The man would soon return with something more than memories and photographs. He would have felt the granite, negotiated the steep places, found the ancient trees, and looked down at Donner Lake from a perspective he had never seen before.
He would have a story to tell.
Maybe his family would wish they had gone with him.
The finest experiences in life are rarely found in or beside the car. They require us to step away from what's comfortable, accept a little uncertainty, and become curious about what might be waiting beyond the obvious.
It really is An Immense World.
It's mysterious and magical.
It offers us forest treasure and crazy cool stories to tell.
But first, we have to put down our phones, leave the parking lot, climb, and be curious.
***
All photographs by Michael Kennedy (unless otherwise noted) / BlueWolfGallery.com

I’m Michael Kennedy, a resident of Olympic Valley, CA (in photo above with Nicola and Boo). I’m a writer and photographer and I love exploring nature and getting lost along the way. We live in "an immense world" that demands our attention and I just want to say thank you for your attention. If you enjoyed this post, please share with a friend. For more photos and stories visit BlueWolfGallery.com.





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