altitude:2112m

July 2015 - Rocky Mountains, CO
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We travel over mountains the same way we journey through the high altitudes of the mind.
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The philosopher Ernst Junger discussed the similarities between physical exploration and intellectual growth.
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Both expand consciousness, pulling at and working with the soul, taking us to places higher than we ever knew possible. Sometimes it’s tough to breathe at the nosebleed mountains peaks. But we have to travel there, for up above the cloud cover we come face to face with Truth. #orangeisoptimism

5

A high speed bird, the XB-70 Valkyrie is the star of this photo series.

The B-70 program was developed during the 50s to be a high altitude, mach 3+, deep penetration nuclear bomber, it was designed to get into soviet territory, deploy it’s nuclear payload and speed the hell out. With the use of this tactic, the B-70 would be only a few minutes in range of a specific radar station but the operators wouldn’t be able to pinpoint a good interception position and even if interceptors were scrambled the Valkyrie could out run and use it’s altitude to escape the soviet fighters of that time.

As the soviets developed surface-to-air missiles (SAM) the program started to become obsolete, the USAF tried to shift it’s role to low level penetration to evade the SAMs using the terrain but it would fill the same position as the B-52 (the bomber it was meant to replace) but with greater cost and shorter range.

Due to the lack of roles for it to fulfill, the B-70 program was cancelled by the USAF in 1961 but the development was then turned over to NASA to research the effects of long duration, high speed flights. Two prototypes were built designated XB-70A Valkyrie and were tested from 1964 to 1969, in 1966 though one of the Valkyries crashed with a F-104 Starfighter during a General Eletric photoshoot (the manufacturer of it’s six engines), both planes were lost.

Now, the remaining Valkyrie is on display at the National Museum of the USAF near Dayton, Ohio.

If you have any suggestions or wanna send an entire photo series of your own, feel free to send them to me and i’ll upload them!

A boy who, drunk with the perfume of elder blossoms
And the massivenss of moonrise, stood
In a lone lane, […]
In a rage of joy, to seize, and squeeze, significance from,
What life is, whatever it is.

Robert Penn Warren, from “Rumor at Twilight,” Altitudes and Extensions: 1980-1984 in New and Selected Poems 1923-1985 (Random House,1985)

Salomé Ammerman | senior | undine

  • a member of the LHS dance team, salomé (or mimi, to her friends,) prefers high impact dancing like salsa
  • almost always adds salt to her food, including sweet foods
  • has a pet hydra named countess, duchess and princess
  • sea life in her hair changes daily
  • best friends are jeanna (a djinn) and sadira (a sandman)
  • loves taking her boyfriends’ (oregano, a werewolf) shirts
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Holy mantra carved into boulders around the sacred lake Yilhun Lhatso in Eastern Tibet. 

The whole circumference of the lake is covered in these carved boulders, some large and some small, some half underwater. There must be thousands of them altogether! 

Yes, you must try to rethink what is real. Perhaps
It is only a matter of language that traps you. You
May yet find a new one in which experience overlaps
Words. Or find some words that make the Truth come true.

Robert Penn Warren, closing stanza to “The Whole Question,” Altitudes and Extensions: 1980-1984, introductory poems to New and Selected Poems: 1923-1985 (Random House, 1985)

flickr

on a road above the clouds by Danielle Nelson
Via Flickr:
Four of five from Maui today. Image made with my Hasselblad 500 C/M.

Box of shade, and try, of all the past, to remember
Which was what, what, which, Perhaps
That sultry hum from the lone bumbler, cruising high
In shadow, is the only sound that truth can make,
And into that muted music you soon sink
To hear at last, at last, what you have strained for
All the long years, and sometimes at dream-verge thought

You heard—the song the moth sings, the babble
Of falling snowflakes (in a language
No school has taught you), the scream
Of the reddening bud of the oak tree

As the bud burst into the world’s brightness.

Robert Penn Warren, from “Muted Music,” Altitudes and Extensions: 1980-1984 in New and Selected Poems 1923-1985 (Random House,1985)