Jack Pot - Sunday, Monday

We three stood huddled around the burners of my stove. Watching 20 boiling eggs and 10 frying. It was snowing lightly now, almost hail. The ground had a thing frosting, but the mountains surrounding were white as English nobles. Last night the grocery store put us out an Easter egg hunt, with many goodies to go along. We scavenged over 60 eggs, premixed salads, pre-sliced fruit, Naked juice and snack packs. Now after our 12 pound dollar/pound ham and our bread Jack pot last night, we are fit to eat like kings. Well, cheep kings, but kings none-the-less. Tuesday morning, now, is hot and clear, from my vantage the Buttermilks near 2 feet of snow is receding at a generous pace. After a forced rest day I feel good to go and with a Thursday forecaster 72 Fahrenheit, we'll be back, "home" as Val calls it, in the Buttermilks soon enough.

Continually Happy - Sunday

The sun rose Sunday morning in a haze of cloud that swarmed the valley. I threw my bivy a top the truck and dropped the tail gate for some banana, cinnamon, brown sugar oatmeal. The sun emerged from the haze as we three lazed in our lawn chairs. The long weekend Cali coast kids piled into the parking lot. It was going to be a hot busy day. After a few hours of voyeurism in the blazing sun, we packed out things and drove top side to the sads. As we finished our warm up the winds started to really pick up. After a select of classics and a few sand blasts to the face we found ourselves confined to a large (but not large enough) cave. There with everyone else in the busy parking lot, willing to brave the winds, there may even have been a few loud annoying people.

Later in Starbucks we discovered that not only did sand find its way into our eyes, but through toques and hair into ears.

Wave Lengths

Cool temps Tuesday, not quite. Warm in fact (enough to walk around comfortably wearing nothing), they called for blizzard winds and snow at elevation. We bivied in the Happy's dirt pull out. Dreamed of slipping some climbing in before the calling storm, and slept to the sounds of wind gusts over the unprotected fields. I roused to calling cows - cow tipping anyone- and the sprinkling rain. After a morning tinkle the clouds bayed away through the day. Running a circuit of classics found me at The Hulk, which is an amazing climb, but some time during it I managed to strain my neck, adding to my stiff back. Sadly Bishop is dry on tree, making self medicating hard, perhaps some rest days on the coast are calling, but that won't happen till late April. After a crash pad nap, two advil, then a tailgate dinner, I collected my change and computer for an evening of comfort in Lounge O'Starbucks. After ditching my garbage in the dumpster and checking for "free groceries", an older dude with his life strapped burdensome to his back asked for change, hoping for a coffee. Slapped my pockets. Dug around my pants. Glanced at the dash. Looked for an answer. He said not to worry. Told him I was living cheep. He said he was with me, "dude". Surely I wasn't much less dirty than him. Asked if I was going to Mammoth. Told him I was climbing. Rock Climbing, I'm with you "dude" he said. We parted ways with words of good travel. When I drove off he was untying my garbage bags, hopefully he could get some change, from my seven six packs I had collected, for his coffee. Come to think of it he sounded drunk, maybe we both have an addiction.

Blown Over, Blown Away

So last night (Monday) John drove me out of town up to the Buttermilks. Had a lot to carry in the dark to camp, needed my sunglasses on to protect against the blowing sand. I opened the truck door threw my dear in and got blown over. It was time to go back to town, I decided. I began to pack everything I needed for the night and next days. Five minutes later and I saw John retreat down the road. Grabbed my Stove off my tupperware, into the truck, turned back and the lid was gone into the night. Couldn't find it, kept packing. Put everything I didn't need, including the lidless tupperware, in my tent. Coasted back down to town and into Starbucks. Slept in the Happies parking lot.

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Today (Thursday), a rest day, I went back up to the Buttermilks to check my things and watch Michelle send her project.
My tent has been distroyed. The Fly was raped from the tent and the tent was thrown 20 feet over bushes and rocks (yes with the things in it, tupperware (full and 15 gallons) and bags. the poles are bent some parts by ninety degrees. I searched sever acres of land, no lid, it's gone.

Thanks to my parent who came and visited I have my bivy.