Rocks, Backpacks and Sweet, Crazy Ladies

I brought the camera along for last night’s beach trip in hopes of a cool sunset or even some action shots of Rowdy playing in the water. But the sunset was only so-so and I didn’t pay much attention to Rowdy because instead my eyes caught these bird-like rock formations.



I took those photos before a lady spoke up from her cross-legged position on a small boulder behind me. “I used to be a photographer.”
I thought, Um…okay. What’s your point?, and later decided I hadn’t thought it loud enough. You’ll see why.
“But 15 years ago I fell 400 feet off a waterfall cuz I was trying to take a picture. Real talk.”
What!? Holy s*^#! I didn’t see that coming. Crazy. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

She turned to the side and opened the hood of her sweatshirt to reveal skin that resembled a fire victim’s, and this texture seemed to cover what looked like exactly half of her head, right down the middle, and down below her neck. She shaved one eyebrow so the painted side wasn’t as obvious. She also seemed sweet and I began to feel for her. Then she started rambling a bunch of crazy mumbo jumbo, spatting off about a parking violation she managed to get out of and how the free, live concert on the beach was no good. Instead I began to pity her. You couldn’t expect anyone to even survive such a fall, let alone avoid any cognitive disabilities that come with a head injury that from that height. Then I noticed her annoying 20-lb mutt was trying to herd Rowdy into a corner, nipping at his legs and barking at him. But it was barely barking, because 20-lb mutts don’t really bark; they produce more of a weak shriek. So now Rowdy was in an even more awkward spot than I’d gotten myself into and she was still spouting off about God-knows-what. The pity quickly turned to more of an irritation. Needless to say I politely excused myself from that conversation, convinced Rowdy he was safe to walk past that little nincampoop of a dog, and moved to a less precarious section of sand.

Speaking of rocks, check out these shots from last weekend’s trip to the Buttermilks, a popular climbing area just a few miles west of Bishop, CA, that is absolutely littered with boulders.

Mono Lake, headed southbound from Tahoe to Bishop. “Nohlen is Dodelijk” = Whining is Deadly
It sure is nice to wake up and climb just a few hundred feet from camp.
Smokey The (teddy) Bear watched over us four three days in the high, dry desert.
Into the Light, with Brandon Marshall

I didn’t take many climbing photos, so I now suggest you click this link: Backpacking Bishop Pass. It’s the trip report from the three-day overnight hiking/camping trip we set off on immediately after climbing last Friday morning, and includes some awesome photos of tremendously beautiful landscapes. If you enjoy exploring the outdoors by foot and you haven’t been to the Inyo National Forest, then let the trip report inspire you to mark a few days on the calendar.

Click Image: Backpacking Bishop Pass w/ Friends from San Diego & Deuter Packs


Let’s hear about your adventures in Inyo, at the Buttermilks or in/around Bishop!

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