We left Wednesday night after the Hawks big Stanley Cup win. We didn't much past the Iowa border before grabbing 40 winks at a truck stop. A few hours later I jumped behind the wheel and pressed on as dawn's rosy fingers played in the rear view. We talked, laughed, and nearly lost our minds getting through Nebraska before a much needed rest and refuel (Wahoo's Tacos) in Denver. We plowed through the mountains with the sun setting and camped along a river outside of Grand Junction. Woke to a Robin feeding her young in the tree we pitched our tent under. Packed down some strawberries and yogurt and threaded our way through Utah.
We took the Scenic route 12, I reminisced, John slept. I stopped in Escalante long enough to dip my toes in the river and cringe at the Russian Olives. We camped that night outside of Bryce Canyon, woke to Coyote singing. Hiked around Bryce, enjoyed the Hoodoos and mountain blue birds all around. Zion was a bust, massive thunderstorms, so we go to Vegas early.
I survived Vegas with some sanity left, that place is what fucking space stations on Mars are going to look like, all fake clouds on the ceiling, fake waterways, fake people, etc. But my friend PBR got me through it well enough. Finally arrived in Bishop, CA yesterday and touched rock for the first time on this trip. The blocks are massive and absolutely everywhere, it is really inspiring, if not a bit scary. Next update should come from Yosemite