I was a tiny bit short on vacation when Barb and I left on our cruise so I “worked from home” when there wasn’t much else of interest to do. Here are a couple of my work environments:
The cruise Barb and I went on is called a “repositioning cruise”. During the summer the ship was based in Seattle and was making trips to Alaska. In September it was sailed to Los Angeles, we and a couple thousand other people boarded, and we then made a few stops in Mexico, a stop in Costa Rica, passed through the Panama Canal (the main draw for us), a stop in Columbia, and finally we got off in New Orleans. In between the days at port in the various countries and the passage through the canal there are many days at sea. Land is generally 100+ miles away, completely out of sight, and time aboard the ship can be a little bit boring. The crew and ship does provide some entertainment. There is tennis, rock climbing, swimming, basketball, a library, live music, live comedy shows, movies, bingo, chess, bridge, shuffleboard, and classes on various things like “Advanced Napkin Folding” (seriously!).
Yeah, things can get more than a little boring unless to put a little effort into it.
Since the ship was in the tropics the air was warm and the pool area was quite popular and they held other activities there. One of the activities was a “Mr. Sexy Legs” contest. Barb asked me if I was going to participate. I didn’t really feel comfortable doing this but Barb sort of nudged me a few times anyway. I decided no, I wasn’t going to do it and she dropped it.
The afternoon of the Mr. Sexy Legs contest I was on the deck above and aft of the pool far enough away that I could read without the noise disturbing me. Barb was exercising or something and was going to join me soon.
As I was reading I heard the cruise director repeatedly call for people to participate in the Mister Sexy Legs contest. It sounded as if they were having trouble getting enough guys to participate. No surprise, I thought. Then I heard them announce, “Rick from Colorado”. Barb and I had met Rick and Dedra on the ship a few days earlier and this had to be him. If Rick can do this, so can I, I decided. So I rushed down and was the last contestant to enter.
It was a such a cliché, Joe, from Seattle, won the Mr. White Legs prize:
Rick won Mr. Chicken Legs.
Barb was disappointed to have missed out on the show, but was thrilled Rick and I won prizes.
A few days later Barb had a plan for participating in the Miss Norwegian Pearl contest. She dressed for it and planned to least check it out at 1:00. We met some friends for lunch at 12:00 and the food was rather slow getting to our table. Our friends and I encouraged her to go on ahead or we could all take our food out to the pool area. But Barb didn’t really want to do that. We finished eating a few minutes after 1:00 and hurried to the pool area to watch the contest.
Barb didn’t want to go through with it but I saw the array of contestants and told her she would blow the competition away. There was absolutely no one in her class. She was still reluctant. I offered to walk up there with her and help her make a late entry. “Okay”, she finally agreed.
I was right about the outcome:
Barb and I were on a cruise the last few weeks (Los Angles to New Orleans through the Panama Canal). I checked the web site (Norwegian Cruise Lines) before we left and, no surprise, guns were not allowed but knives with blades less than four inches long were acceptable (curiously, laser pointers are not allowed either). Never mind that steak knives on the ship were probably going to be longer than four inches, but whatever. I brought along the two Spyderco Delicas I carry in my pockets whenever it is legal to do so. I got them on the ship just fine. I got off the ship at our first stop then got back on just fine. Security even examined them and measured the blade length. At the second stop shore security took them from me when we tried to get back on the ship. I got a receipt and they told me to talk to ship security. I talked to guest services about the knives and they promised to contact security for me and they would get back to me. After about a day and a half I talked to guest services again. They said security would come out to talk to me about the knives. After about 20 minutes two security people showed up. I greeted them warming and introduced myself and shook their hands. Security Officer Judd Hinchliffe was the one that did all the talking:
The following is a close approximation of the conversation. My thoughts which I dared not express are in [brackets].
Hinchliffe: I have your knives but these are not allowed on the ship.
Joe: I checked the website before we got on the ship and it says knives with blades less than four inches are acceptable.
Hinchliffe: Yes. But these knives are what we call lock blade knives.
Joe: I didn’t see anything on the website about lock blade knives.
Hinchliffe: It doesn’t but in the U.K., where I’m from, these are banned. We not in the U.K. but these are banned for a reason. With a normal knife if you try to stab someone with them the blade may fold on your hand. A locking blade knife is much more dangerous. These are what we call lock blade knives.
Joe: [Are you saying that U.K. law is incorporated into Norwegian Cruise rules while we are sailing in international waters off the west coasts of the United States and Mexico? Why not incorporate U.S. law which says you are infringing upon my right to keep and bear arms? That’s a felony by the way.
That’s the second time you told me they were lock blade knives. I knew that before you ever said so about these knives and I heard you the first time. In my defensive knife classes they taught us to use slicing motions, so the locking feature isn’t really going to make a difference if I need to use the knife on someone.] If I were ever to go to the U.K. [not bloody likely until you fix your idiotic anti-self defense laws] I wouldn’t bring my knives.
Hinchliffe: I know this isn’t the U.K. but I’m in charge of security and I need to make sure everyone is safe. Why do you carry knives?
Joe: I grew up on a farm. When I was in the first grade the teacher gave all the boys in the class a knife for Christmas. I have carried a knife ever since then. [So… if someone attacks Barb or I and we are unable to defend ourselves because you took away our knifes you would be held responsible for the attack?]
Hinchliffe: Look around us. Does this look like a farm?
Joe: No. [It doesn’t look like the U.K. either. What does it matter?] Of course not.
Hinchliffe: In the U.K. we have a knife culture since we don’t have gun culture like in the U.S.
Joe: [You say “gun culture” like it’s a bad thing. If you would have let me bring my guns on board I would have been happy enough to leave my knives at home so you could indulged your prejudice against knife ownership without causing me any grief. As it is I’m probably going to lose the callouses on my hands from shooting 500 to 1000 rounds a week in practice. I’m then going to have to start practicing at drastically reduced levels to avoid blisters.] Yes, I know. I read about it sometimes.
Hinchliffe: What do you use a knife for?
Joe: I use them for all kinds of things. Cutting apples, opening boxes, most recently on this cruise I cut the labels off of some new clothes for my wife.
Hinchliffe: How are you getting along with your wife?
Joe: We get along great! In fact while we were waiting in line over there someone asked us if we were newlyweds. [Seriously?!! You want to get into couples counseling? If I were inclined to hurt her there are many options other than one of these knives. Let me see, I haven’t thought about this before. What would be my options? Push her overboard, push her down the stairs, hands, fists, feet, elbows, knees, a metal water bottle, a pillow while she sleeps, the metal chairs on our balcony, I could burn her with the hot hair dryer in our cabin, hmm… I could go on for quite some time like this…]
Hinchliffe: Why do you carry two knives?
Joe: [What difference does that make? Norwegian Cruise rules don’t put a limit on the number of knives only on the length of the blade. According to the rules I can have 10, 100, or 1000 knives. But you don’t care about the written rules, do you?
Do you think I’m twice as dangerous with two knives? How about if I had ten knives? Do you think I want to sell them to other passengers?] I have one in each pocket so I can easily reach one or the other if one hand is holding something.
Hinchliffe: I can’t let you have these knives in public. If someone saw you with them it would frighten them.
Joe: [Really? Even though the rules don’t prohibit it? Oh, yes, the rules don’t matter to you. What matters to you is that you get to exercise your prejudice against people who carry knives.
Perhaps the ship has a mental health professional on board who could help people with irrational fear of knives. Have you considered seeking some help yourself?] Well, I don’t need to have them in public.
Hinchliffe: You seem like a reasonable fellow so I’m inclined to let you have the knives back. But you will have to put them in your luggage so they can’t be seen by your steward when they are cleaning your room.
Joe: That sounds fair enough to me. I’m very much a rule following person. If I had known locking knives were a problem I would have left them at home but the website didn’t say anything about them. [So small pocket knives, which meet the your website criteria, sitting on a shelf in our cabin are going to frighten your crew? If this is really true it sounds to me like you need have higher standards for crew selection. I know! If they fire you and raise the standards for your position the problem will be solved for everyone!]
Hinchliffe: I’m going to escort you back to your cabin and you can put them away while I watch.
Joe: Okay. That works for me. [How does this help? If I wasn’t going to do that if you gave me the knives now, what makes you think I will leave them hidden away the minute after you leave the cabin?*]
Hinchliffe: [As we walk to my cabin.] I still don’t understand why you have two knives.
Joe: [That’s not a question so I don’t have to say anything now. I’m just going to walk back to the cabin, get my knives, thank him, and enjoy the rest of the cruise. I’m sure there are lot of things this guy doesn’t understand in his life and I don’t think there is anything anyone can do to help him with that.]
* It’s possible he visited our cabin once or more times when we were on shore or at a meal and checked to make sure the knives remained where he saw me stash them. I was tempted to put them in the safe or hide them at the bottom of my dirty laundry bag just to mess with him, but decided I had better things to do on the cruise than play mind games with the head security officer.
It’s short for “agitation propaganda”, sure, but what does that mean?
For a good definition, this should be in textbooks.
All such assertions (in this case the assertion is “We’re jittery and dysfunctional, so we need more gun restrictions”) depend on one false premise, which says, in effect;
Human rights are subject to revision based on circumstance.
If that premise is true, then we should yield to the moment, we appease and give in. “There there, you can have what you want if you’ll only STOP CRYING…”
If the premise is false then we STAND for what we know is right, not for the moment but for all time. We prevent the emotion-driven from making mistakes harmful to themselves and others. We do them the favor of correcting them. It’s what adults do when confronted with irrational behavior.
You all know, even you leftists know, that the premise is a false one. Human rights are not altered by circumstance, statistics, emotions of the moment, nor by the way, are right affected by weather.
Rather than argue circumstances then, we must learn to reject the premise that rights are subject to circumstances, bring some very needed reason into play, assert rights, name their origin and stand up, faithfully and consistently to defend rights for all time. Do it for the children (to play on an authoritarian mind trick*).
Do it for future generations. Otherwise we fall down that rat hole wherein someone’s implanted, overwhelming emotions have the power, all by themselves, to force you to relinquish your rights and appease the sleaze. (Hey, that’s a slogan; “Relinquish Your Rights and Appease the Sleaze….”)
That’s the end game for the Dark Side, and it almost always works.
Will it work this time? How many of you, within a matter of hours or days, started, in your minds, bargaining away bump stocks, for example? Then one after another, like robots…”Bargain away bump stocks, bargain away bump stocks…” It was like a plague that spread via the airwaves, from coast to coast, in a matter of hours.
Who really needs a bump stock, after all, right? Not me, but that’s not the point.
Don’t participate in the insanity of the appeasement of the insane. That’s how they get you, and you even end up thinking yourself smarter for it. How deliciously evil is that? You’re smarter than those confounded “extremists”;
“Why, if it weren’t for them, this thing could be handled delicately and properly, and we could deal, and everyone would win…”
You’ve heard it all before. Eventually you’ll be saying it more and more.
Here’s an idea; the crazy people, no matter how frightened or offended they on the left act, no matter how they kick and scream and hold their collective breath until they turn blue, and no matter how they threaten or accuse, they aren’t your masters. They’re just sad, angry, confused people with nothing else to offer but more sadness, anger and confusion. Don’t feed the trolls.
Offer reason to the irrational. It’s the only possible way to help them. Don’t be that parent at the supermarket who’s giving in to the three-year-old just to make him SHUT UP. You idiots.
Who’s in control, the parent or the three-year-old? It can go either way, and you’ve all seen it.
Don’t pretend like their crazy assertions (“I’m so scared…we need a gun law to make me feel better– You bastards!”) have any validity, or guess what? You just put the crazy people in control, and you’d have to be crazy to do that. But you do it anyway, then you bitch and carry on about how the inmates are running the asylum. Well no shit Sherlock; you put them in charge.
It happens in your personal life. That’s where it starts. You start out walking on eggshells at home, or at school, and you end up walking on eggshells politically, then before you know it you’re trying to make other people walk on eggshells. Same causes, same effects. The Progressives know when they’ve got to you, just like a shark smells the chum-of-appeasement you’re throwing in the water, just like a dog knows when he has you upset.
AgitProp. That’s what it means. That which arouses emotion in you owns you.
*“Nothing is too good for the children”, we are told. Like most everything the left touches however, the definition of that phrase, when uttered by a leftist, is its own opposite. It means;
“Nothing is too bad for the children.”
For the left, rights deprivation isn’t too bad for the children. Abortion isn’t too bad for the children (except in the sense, “Too bad, children!”), nor is grabbing power from the People, nor graft, nor violating the constitution, nor are coercion and wholesale confiscation too bad for the children. None of the horrible things done by communist regimes, past or present, have been too bad for the children, and if that’s the case (and the left has always had love affairs with communist regimes), then truly, nothing is too bad for the children.
I thought you should know that. Carry on.
Erin Palette founded Operation Blazing Sword immediately after the Jihadist shot up the night club in Orlando Florida. Her organization made international news for setting up a network of LGBT friendly firearms instructors. Her parents dog severely tore up her face. She now needs help with medical bills. Donate if you can.
If you donate over $125 Oleg will send you large photo print of your choice from his collection.
Other than the one shiny wheel, the white letter tires, the stupid lift job and the stupid foot step, this would have been a common sight from the time of my childhood. That rig would have been just an old rig, kept in service beyond its years because newer rigs cost money. It would have been used for serious work, thus it would not have been lifted, but it may have had a plow blade or some other makeshift whatsit cobbled onto it, and it would have shown more rust.
Post apocalyptic? I don’t know. Maybe if it had a wood-smoke burner conversion. I do appreciate the fact that someone is keeping it in operation.
It’s Gravity season. Time for things to fall. Things like leaves and branches. On power lines, naturally. And roads. Oh joy, be still my beating heart! Since Hurricanes Harvey and Irma and Maria, I’d been meaning to dig out the generator for a test run, and do my other fall emergency checks. Thus begins a short story of preparedness and failure. Continue reading
As I mentioned the other day, last Saturday Barb and I went white water rafting and I went swimming in Class IV rapids. I thought I might get some video from Riverbooty.com but they only took stills. Here are what I think are the most interesting of them (sequential frames):
He needs to change the chant. I just can’t be enthused anymore about, “Ice cold beer.” It should be “HOT. GREEN. TEA.”
September 16, 2017
[Yesterday was the 5th anniversary of our first date and, among other things, we celebrated by going on a white water rafting trip as part of a company morale event. The guide would give orders such as:
- Forward one [or two, three, or full]!
- Back one [or two, three, or full]!
There were others, but for the purposes of this story these are the important ones.
To help keep the participants in sync, depending upon the order, we were supposed to chant one of three things in time with our paddle strokes.
- NEED. BEER.
- ICE. COLD. BEER.
Here is a sample:
It got cold. Even though we were dressed warmly we all got chilled and she got cold:
Her suggestion for the change was quite appropriate.
There are more exciting stories from this event but this will have to do until we get the video from when I went swimming in Class IV rapids.—Joe]
I received an email today from someone who is, “interested in potentially moving to rural Northern Idaho. However, I’ve heard conflicting descriptions of what the politics are like.”
I get a request something like this, maybe, once a year. I decided to make it a blog post so I don’t have to rewrite it every time.
It’s been several years since I actually lived there enough to consider it my actual residence but I do own property there, spend the weekend there about once a month, and I have many friends and relatives there. I still consider it “home” but that is more of an attitude and viewpoint thing rather than a physical sense. Also keep in mind that my experience is with mostly with North Central Idaho, some limited experience in Northern Idaho and does not apply to the state of Southern Idaho (there is a political, social, and geographical divide between the southern part of the state and the rest of the state).
The concern of my correspondent was:
…some people make it sound like if you let slip that you don’t hate Obama or whatever everyone will hate you. And I still have little experience with what the political landscape in the broader USA is actually like. It’s easy to dismiss my ultra-liberal family who see everything other than New York and San Francisco as a kind of a wasteland. Somebody who claims that “his clients would shoot him if he sold to someone who is OK with liberals” is rather scarier, even though I’m mostly interested in getting away from liberals.
Failure to hate Obama will cause everyone to hate you? I think is a totally unwarranted concern. While I think it would be possible to find a place where such people existed it would be very rare. I have progressive relatives there (and Dad was, for all intents and purposes, a pretty hard core socialist) who are annoying because they sometimes want “non-believers” to agree with them. The worst I have seen happen when someone expressed progressive beliefs is that people try to change the subject and, if that doesn’t work, they walk away from the conversation. Shoot someone for their political beliefs? No. They might offer to take them shooting or hunting or show them their stuffed elk head, knowing that it would tweak their progressive sensibilities, but there wouldn’t be any intent to injury anything more than their delicate psyche.
For the person that likes certain aspects of the progressive social culture but wants to escape the economic oppression you should consider Moscow Idaho. It is filled with “frustrated liberals”. It is a university town but they don’t have enough voting power in the state and have difficulty dominating at the county level. I lived in Moscow for many years and would sometimes attend “concerts in the park” and other cultural events and one of my favorite parts of it was seeing the “liberal tears”. They wanted those type of events to all be “free” so they would be “accessible to everyone”.
Even in a small logging/farming town like Orofino I see some of my old high school classmates whining on Facebook about how terrible the Republicans are and the worst that I can see happen to them is that no one seems to care what they think.
So, I would agree with the statement that, politically, it is a nice place for a “recovering liberal” who is tired of being crushed between San Francisco and LA.
The climate may be a different story. A lot of places, particularly the further north and the high elevation you go, will be cold in the winter. It can be brutally cold. On the farm a few miles and a couple thousand feet above Orofino during the winter of 1969/1970 it got down to -30 F for about a week with about six feet of snow in a single storm. The electricity and phones were out for a full week too. That was a record breaker and there hasn’t been a winter like that since. There was one winter, probably in the late 1990s, where it never got above 0 F for a month. That was rare too. But for someone from southern California that could be frighteningly extreme. If the cold weather isn’t something you want to experience then Lewiston may be better fit. It is considered “the banana belt” area of Idaho. It has the lowest elevation in the state and while the winters are usually pretty mild the summers can be brutally hot with temperatures frequently over 100 F. The humidity is fairly low but doesn’t really qualify as a “dry heat” like you get in the deserts of Arizona and Nevada. But it is far less oppressive than the Midwest or the east coast humidity.
Amazon has changed things some in regards to access to goods but it still may be a cultural shock to people growing up in or near a city. Where I grew up they have to drive a considerable distance (and it took even longer before the roads were paved) to get to grocery, hardware, and clothing stores. It might be an hour or more to a town with a shopping mall. Even now you could live in a small town and will need to drive 40 miles before you can get service on your cell phone. High speed Internet, if you can get it, could be 8 Mbps down and 4 Mbps up.
The last thing of considerable note to tell people who are “interested in potentially moving to rural Northern Idaho” from, say California, is something that I found very confusing starting on my first day of college. I was at the University of Idaho (Moscow) and several students from California, New Jersey, and New York (mostly wildlife and forestry majors) asked, “What is there to do around here?” I didn’t really understand the question and when I asked for clarification they would explain, “What do you do for to ‘get out” in the evenings or weekends?” “Well”, I would explain, “On the weekend in the summer you might go fishing, camping, or maybe boating if you had a boat. In the fall some people go hunting. In the winter we didn’t go out much except to feed the cows or work in the shop. And in the evenings I generally watch TV or read a book.” This pretty much left them speechless and it wasn’t because I had answered their question question satisfactorily. After I graduated and moved to the Seattle area I finally understood what they were incapable of explaining to me. While I still don’t have the strong need for the sort of stimulation they were asking about I think I know what they meant. Sorry, in many parts of Idaho you will experience extreme deprivation if that is what you need to get by.
I love Idaho, I wish I could live there all the time but I’m sort of addicted to my well paying job in the big city and I only get to visit “home”. But it’s not going to be for everyone. The more rural you get the more self reliant you need to be in both physical and social domains. And even though you feel oppressed by a state like California, it may take some getting used to or may not even be for you.
Grandson Bryce is four years old and today Jaime, Sherry, and I took him to a mini-golf course.
Bryce seemed to think it was great fun. Despite numerous attempts at improving his technique he had his own way of doing things which resulted in a large number of misses and countless strokes. He also had some serious modifications to the rules. But we figured as long as he was having a good time that was all that mattered.
Jaime skunked all of us with a four under par score.
She told us the secret as we got near the end and everyone knew we had no hope of catching up to her. The purse accessory, the ball, and the shirt and shoes all have to color matched. You think that as simple as that is someone would have told me long before this.
Barb and I mostly stayed home this weekend because of the heat and extraordinarily smoky air from the forest fires. Otherwise we probably would have gone on a hike. So… I reloaded ammo and puttered around my “library” (includes computers, guns, ammo, reloading bench, reloading components, and gun cleaning bench). I reloaded 600 rounds of 40 S&W yesterday and 600 rounds today using up almost all of the Fiocchi primers.
Combined with the stuff I had reloaded in the previous few days this month I topped the lifetime total rounds reloaded mark of 100,000 rounds. My logs show I have reloaded 100,027 rounds. 73,514 of those are .40 S&W.
This morning I was busy reloading ammo when Barb came back from a walk and sent me a text message before coming inside:
Two deer on the front yard.
I grabbed my camera bag and headed for the door. Barb opened it just before I got to it. My disappointed face must have been an easy read for her because she said, “They aren’t going anywhere, but I wish they would.” I carefully stepped out on the front steps and took some pictures:
I came back inside and Barb asked if they were still there. “Yes”, I replied, “Do you want me to make them go away?”
“Yes please. I don’t want them eating my plants.”
“We could have fresh venison for dinner if you wanted.”, I joked.
“No. Just get them out of the yard.”
We went out into the yard and tried shooing them away from 15 or 20 feet away. They weren’t really interested. I had to make some aggressive moves and sounds before they finally moved onto the edge of the street. Two cars drove by and the deer came back onto the edge of the yard.
I clicked my tongue (really loud, I used to find my kids in malls and stores this way because they could hear it some distance away and knew I was looking for them). This was enough incentive for the deer to run down the street a few feet and then walk through the bushes into the neighbors yard.
I came back in the house and reported my results to Barb. “Excellent!”, she exclaimed, “I was afraid they would run at me if I tried to get them to leave.”
While it’s not all that unusual to see a deer or two when we go for a walk near the park, I don’t recall seeing any deer on our street before. It’s not like we live in some rural area. This is a normal suburban neighborhood with houses all around:
Oh well, I thought it was nice to have the visitors even if I don’t think Barb wasn’t quite as pleased about it as I was.
Guess what I gave Kim (daughter, and target production manager for Boomershoot) for her wedding present (she and Jacob are now married):
It’s not just any rifle:
I put a new stock, hunting scope, sling, and a bipod on it, but it’s the same rifle Kim, Jaime, and I took to the Blanchard Blast in 1996 and 1997. The Blanchard Blast was our inspiration for Boomershoot.
I also gave her 150 rounds of 30.06 ammo which was loaded to .308 Winchester velocities. She wants to go hunting and didn’t have a rifle for that. Now she does. And it’s in the same caliber as Jacob’s hunting rifle.
Update: Here is a picture of them shortly after saying “I do.”
Friday a hard drive on my home computer went kaput. Not really a huge deal – it was ~8 years old – just a hassle, time, and money spent replacing it, restoring from backups, etc. More a “*sigh*, ‘again?'” sort of thing than an “OMG! I’m SO SCREQWED!!!” sort of moment. Which then, of course, leads to looking at the rest of HDDs I’ve got on various systems to see if any of them need replacements…. yes, of course they do…. more $$, more time, more hassle.
But when a strange car is in the driveway when you get home, labeled “loaner car”, and the conversation metaphorically starts with “well, at least nobody got hurt,” it’s not going to be a great afternoon. Wife and kids were in a minor-ish fender-bender. Technically drivable, at least as far as the dealer. But the crumple-zone crumpled just enough that they are deciding if they should fix it, or total it and give us a check. If they do total it, then as an older Honda the check won’t be anywhere close to getting a newer minivan. So we are looking at pricing out a replacement vehicle that is ~80% likely to be needed.
Anyone have a 6-8 year old minivan in good shape they could part with at a fair price? Seattle area, but can drive if needed. Life keeps happening, I guess. And that’s not addressing the need for a re-shingle job on the 20-YO roof.
A lot of people talk to their dogs and share their innermost secrets. With cats I’m not sure what they’d have to say.
A lot of times it might just be ‘you idiot, just feed me and leave me alone’.
Professor at Northern Arizona University
July 23, 2017
This new technology may soon be able to translate your pet’s sounds into words
[I laughed and laughed at this. It reminded me of something daughter Xenia said to me once.—Joe]
The weather has not been kind to the quote harvest.
July 14, 2017
[I was looking for a QOTD and it was taking longer than usual.—Joe]
I like these kind of trails the least. These are the kind where you fall to your death.
July 4, 2017
While on a hike near Tolmie Peak Lookout
[While I admit she had a point, I didn’t feel the impending disaster she did. But then, she was convinced I was “channeling my inner mountain goat”.
The picture below was taken by Barb at nearly the same time as I took the picture of her above:
It was a great hike with epic views. And you don’t need to traverse the areas shown above to get the epic views like this:
Highly recommended day hike.—Joe]