Our guidebook describes the last part of the ascent as 'airy'. We didn't understand that adjective until we reached the "final ascent across white cliffs that drop away for a thousand feet below the pathway." At that point, we learned that 'airy' means 'trying to move forward along a narrow ledge in the face of 60 mph head-winds.' We literally clung to the wall, pulling ourselves along and attempting to shield our faces from the stinging blowing sand.
Fortunately, the wind was less intense on the plateau at the summit--or so we thought. When we rounded a turn, we saw a young woman sitting on the ground holding a bloody cloth to a wound on her head. The wind had blown down a heavy 25' dead bristlecone pine on her as she passed by! Although injured, she was very lucky not to have taken a more direct hit or been knocked off the precipice. 'Whew!,' we thought, 'That's two bullets (the wind and the tree) we've dodged today.'
As we headed for the point, hikers warned us to watch out for the rattlesnake. Yep, there he was, slithering his whole four-foot length under a tree toward a patch of shade. Fred took several pictures and we proceeded to find a spot for lunch. Suddenly, we noticed Mr. Rattler-- about six feet away and wending his reptilian way right for us. Ours was a movable feast so we hastily relocated. When I commented to Fred that we'd done a tough eight miles, he told me we'd only done four miles at that point. But we'd certainly had 8 miles worth of thrills and chills.
Our descent was faster and less eventful--until we were about a mile from the trailhead. I stopped to snap a wildlfower while Fred continued on and was about 15' ahead of me. At the same instant, we both heard a rumble above us and knew it was a rock fall. But the sheerness of the cliffs and vegetation hid the source. Then a basketball-size rock crashed on the trail between us and continued bouncing downward.
Although Observation Point had been a great hike with breath-taking vistas and beautiful wildflowers, we were glad to complete it unscathed, i.e., not blown off the trail, clobbered by a tree, bitten by a snake or smashed by a rock.