My birthday ON TOP OF A MOUNTAIN!

With much rejoicing, I celebrated my 24th birthday Monday on top of a mountain. The Cowgirl's arrival from Italy gave me license to cross two things off my list - visiting Mt. Pilatus in Luzern and skipping (more) work.

The most notable thing about the Pilatus adventure, besides taking the steepest train in the world (48% grade. oooh. call me when you get over 90 degrees.), was nearly dying.

Once on top of the mountain, we donned our garlands of fresh herbs and set out on a short hike for a picnic on the other summit, about 30 minutes away. We were guided to our destiniation by glorious sunshine and a monstrous golden hawk with a wingspan of about eight feet.

(I kept expecting Jay Bilas to pop out and tout the hawk as a lottery pick in the 2006 NBA Draft. "This hawk's got a great upside. His European experience is a question mark but with his length, he projects as a power forward. Someone, like the Knicks at No. 13, could take a gamble on him.")

Once there, we ate sandwiches (mine was a delightful chicken salad and the cowgirl opted for tuna) and watched the most peculiar weather formation.

The above happened disarmingly quickly. We saw the first wisps of clouds coming up, noticed how the birds caught the air under their wings and soared upwards, and snapped a few pictures.

Now, I'm not an very outdoorsy person, so I was fully enjoying the spectacle without a thought as what was going to happen in about three minutes. Namely, the reckoning.

It started with a couple innocuous drops of rain - refreshing, actually, as the sun was still strong despite the elevation. Then a few more came, and before we knew it we were caught in the kind of drenching, all-out downpour that laughs at umbrellas. Then came the flash. And the boom.

Realizing that the top of a mountain is probably not the best place to be in a lightning storm, we scrambled for cover. With the flashes and boom becoming frighteningly close together, we packed into a cave with about six other hikers, soaked to the bone. The trail, which at this point could not be distinguished from a river, chased the group further back into the cave.

The wind, not to be left out, started kicking up the steep grade of the mountainside. The trail-river, trying to follow the natural laws of liquid, tried to drop down of the side of the mountain. The wind, however, picked it up and forced it upwards, creating the first Bizarro waterfall in the history of man. Really something to see: the water, clearly taken aback by this turn of events, formed small globes and floated upwards and outwards.

The storm forced us back into the cave for about an hour, at which point it took a break. The Cowgirl and I seized the opportunity and copped a heel back to the lodge, recovering with warm blankets and a good Sarsparilla.

All told, it was a harrowing occasion, especially since I hyped it up quite a bit. But in all reality, it was dangerous and another man was struck by lightning and was medivac-ed off the summit. Lightning fouled up the transporation and we ended up getting stuck up there for a few hours, thus making me late for my own birthday party back in Basel.