The Joke

I moved to Casper, Wyoming a couple months ago. The characters I've met here have been interesting to say the least, but what has been most surprising to me is what is considered normal in the oil industry. Here is an example.

Last Saturday was the christmas party. This is the joke a manager at Weatherford International told. The guy who told it runs an entire shop, he's the boss of about 8 guys, 3 of them were present. They laughed pretty hard, then went on to tell their own jokes along the same lines. Consider it par for the course.

Barack, Michelle, and Oprah are riding on a plane together. Oprah says, I could throw 1 million one dollar bills out the window and make 1 million people happy. Michelle says, I could throw 100,000 10's out the window and make 100,000 people 10 times happier. Barack says, I could throw a billion 1s out the window and make a billion people happy. The pilot gets on the intercom and says, I could throw 3 niggers out the window and make 6 billion people happy.

Isn't it funny?

After reading Rushdie's "The Jaguar Smile" I was set on going to Nicaragua. I was looking forward to having a Sandanista experience. Though the closest I got to a Sandanista experience was taking photos of poles painted with the FSLN logo, I still had an incredible time during my short visit to Nicaragua.

I arrived in Managua on Nov. 30, two days before my birthday. That morning I met a guy at the hostel in Guatemala City who had lived a year in Nicaragua. He gave me some advice on places to visit around Managua, and I was able to borrow a guide book during the flight to read up on these spots. I had decided to fly from Guatemala City to Managua because the flight cost $160 USD, and the bus would have been $120 USD. I only had 9 days for the trip, and the flight was an hour. The bus would have taken 20 hours.

By the time we landed I still did not know where to go. Esteli seemed cool, a Sandanista stronghold north of Managua, but there was San Juan del Sur to the south where you can learn to surf. San Juan just seemed like a better place to spend my birthday. I would have the break the trip in Granada for a night. I ended up splitting a cab to Granada for about $10 USD per person from the airport. The buses are much cheaper, but you have to take a city bus into Managua, then catch a bus back out of the city to Granada. Granada is your typical Central American colonial city. It was razed to the ground years ago, and has now been only partially rebuilt. Still, I stongly prefer Granada to Antigua in Guatemala. Granada is an actual city, and not just a gringo stomping ground like Antigua.

The buildings in Granada are painted bright orange, purple, yellow, and pink. It seems like everyone in the city is in the central park during the evenings, and street vendors sell fried banana chips, popcorn, and delicious pupusas. There is a single gringo street in Granada, and on it I ran into nearly everyone I had met throughout my travels. I saw the Dutch guys I had argued politics with in Xela, The Polish Canadian I had met in Semuc, and most surprisingly, the Italian German I spent a week with in Zipolte, Mexico 3 months earlier. It was great to see him, and it was his birthday! Needless to say, we went out that night.

The next day I had breakfast with the Canadian guy I had shared a cab with, and then I caught the next bus to San Juan del Sur. I met a couple Swiss guys on the bus, and went to the same hostel as them. I got my own simple room for $4/night and headed straight to the beach. The beach in San Juan is long, but there are a lot of boats right off shore. It's not a great beach. Every morning I would head out to one of the surf beaches. For $10/day you can rent a board and get transport to and from one of the nearby beaches with good surf.

San Juan del Sur is the perfect place to learn to surf. It's cheap, it's got a great vibe, and it has surf for everyone from absolute beginners to pros. There's this one bar called The Pier that seemed to get pretty full most nights. The owner is a real prick American guy, and the bar really has nothing going for it besdes the fact that it attracted a crowd. I hope that by the time you visit, some Nicaraguan owned bar is the new hot spot.

I would not allow myself to spend my entire vacation in San Juan del Sur, as much as I would have liked to, so after a few days I made the journey to Isla Ometepe. This place belongs in a fairy tale. Set inside the enormous Lake Nicaragua, Ometepe's 2 volcanoes are easily visible from the city of Rivas, where boats leave frequently for the island ($7.50, 2hrs). As you approach the island the views are incredible, and the size of the island becomes clear: it's big. I arrived in the evening, and by the time the bus dropped me off near the hostel, it was pitch black. I had a half mile hike in the PITCH BLACK to the hostel, and burglaries are common at night. My head lamp ran out of batteries on the way, but I arrived safe and sound and took a comfortable room to myself for the night. There are cheaper places, but I paid $8/night for a private room with a great bed and private bath.

The next morning I walked down to another hostel (that is also an organic coffee farm) where some friends were staying. When I got there I found out they were out on a hike, so I sat down to lunch and waited for them to get back. I overheard someone at the table next to me talking about Chicago, and couldn't help but jump into the conversation. They were all Americans who were volunteering at the coffee farm. It was costing them almost $5 per day to volunteer, and that included nothing but 4 hours of work per day and place to pitch a tent. The couple from Chicago was on a gap year after college, there was a guy from Connecticut who was traveling for some time and decided to spend some time in one place, and a gorgeous girl from Rhode Island who had no definite plans beyond one day wanting to live on a farm. The couple from Chicago took my email, they would be volunteering in Colombia in a few months and may need some help on a water project. I have yet to hear from them.

My friends got back to the hostel, and we had a short conversation about the differences between the US and Canadian Engineers Without Borders (A Post on this is coming). One girl had worked for EWB Canada for a year and a half, she was now looking for work in medium sized loans in the thrid world. She said micro loans were now accessible, but a step above that, loans to people who wanted to start small businesses and the like were not were not widely available. Another girl was a mechanical engineer who had been working to design wind farms. She was headed to Paris for an MBA. We said our goodbyes, and headed off to make it back to my hostel before sundown.

The next day I made the 4 hr trip to Granada and stayed at one of the heavily trodden hostels with a big bar and 10 beds in the dorm for $6/night. A guy I mad met in San Juan del Sur was there too, and we went out and had a pretty good night with a Chilean guy we met at the hostel. I woke up the next morning and took the local bus to Granada (1 hr, $1), then a taxi to the airport (20 min, $3.50). I had Subway at the airport and bought some coffee with the last of my Cordobas, and then enjoyed a free Scotch on my 1 hr international flight back to Guatemala.

Honduras: Copan and Bay Islands

Copan and the Bay Islands

So on Christmas Eve I set off for the Bay Islands of Honduras where I planned to spend my Christmas and New Years. Not surprisingly, no buses were running on Christmas day, so I spent my Christmas in Copan doing nothing. To be honest, it was kind of nice.

The trip started in Antigua, Guatemala a bit late. There are usually gringo vans to Copan, Honduras and even as far as La Ceiba, Honduras from Antigua, but because it was Christmas Eve, nothing was running. From Antigua we took a bus to Guatemala City (1 HR, $1), then we took a taxi from the bus stop to the bus station (1 HR, $6), the bus took us to Chiquimula, near the Guatemala, Honduras border (4 HR, $5). From Chiquimula we took a shared van to the border (1.5HR, $2). A short walk across the border, and another shared van (0.5 HR, $1.50) later and we were in Copan by early that evening. We quickly found out it would be impossible to leave the next morning, so we got a decent room, had some dinner, and went to bed early.

At about 4 AM I decided enough was enough. The hostal we chose (Via Via) was having the craziest Christmas party I have ever heard, and we left and found a new hotel so we could actually get some sleep. The next morning we decided to forego the ruins to have a lazy Christmas day. I have never been that into ruins anyway.

We made the mistake of taking the Hedman Alas bus to La Ceiba. They are the deluxe bus company of Honduras. They charge way too much, and provide little more than you get for 1/5 the price. We paid $25 for the 6HR bus ride to La Ceiba, and then another $25 for the 1 HR boat trip to Utila Island.

Utila is where every Gringo on the Central American trail goes to get their Open Water SCUBA diving certification. For $200-$300 you can get your certification in Utila. I had a friend I wanted to meet, and headed straight to his hostel (Alton's Dive Shop) upon arrival in Utila. Unfortunately he had left that morning, but Alton's offered us a free nights stay to check the place out, so we stayed. The rooms were filthy and the kitchen was terrible. It seems like people like Alton's because it has a good party, but we decided to leave for another dive shop. We ended up at Paradise which was a lot more chill and much cheaper. The Open Water was $270 at Alton's. Paradise does it for $200 and has a much nicer kitchen.

Utila has the second deepest reef in the world, and the diving is great. If you are comfortable in the water, and it is easy for you to pop your ears, scuba will come easily. Coral reefs are really cool, and to stand on the ocean floor staring up at 80 ft of water, fish, and coral above you is pretty amazing. Paradise left some things to be desired though, and I left before finishing the course.

Utila has a crazy party scene, and most of the dive instructors are people who like the life it affords. New Years is one of the few days they all get off, so New Year's Eve was a shit show. The bar on the dock across from Paradise was open from 6pm Near Year's Eve until 4pm New Year's Day. I think most of the party goers (and bartenders alike) had some party assistance.

We checked out Tree-Tanic, a truly amazing place built by someone with a crazy imagination and way too much time on their hands.

We laid on the only beach in Utila, that left much to be desired. Mostly, we spent a lot of time diving, snorkeling, and hanging out on the boat-- On a boat mother fucker, on a boat.

From Utila we headed to Tela which was a really shitty beach town.

From there we headed to Lake Yojoa, where we stayed a nice little hostel. The lake has a good amount of protected park land around it, and hundreds of different species of birds. The night we arrived the people at the hostel swore to us we HAD to see the circus that was in town. The circus was a tranvestite and kiddie porn show. We left at the intermission. The next morning I took a hike down to the park; when the sun came out I saw at leat 10 different species of birds on 20 minutes. Unfortunately, I did not see a Tucan.

We headed out that day for Copan, to break our trip and by the next afternoon we were back in Antigua. We sprung for the Gringo van from Copan to Antiguaas it only cost a few dollars more and saved a lot of hassle. I caught the Orange Bowl in Antigua and watched the Hawks destroy Georgia Tech before heading back to my sterile life in Nebaj.

New Posts Coming

To all of my faithful readers...

I am actually working on some new posts as we speak. I realize it's been quite a while, but I'm working on about 6 new posts. I did a lot of traveling in Nicaragua and Honduras over the past month, so I have some good stuff.

Oh Boy!

Semuc Champey and Antigua, Guatemala

Semuc Champey is a nice little park outside of Coban on the Guatemalan Gringo trail. Travelers usually hit Semuc after seeing the Mayan ruins in Tikal when heading south, or, after Antigua when heading north. It was a fantastic change of pace from life in Nebaj. I got to the "bus stop" in Nebaj at 4:55am for only direct van to Coban at 5am. The van had left at 4:50am, so I waited until a bus for to Santa Cruz de Quiche passed and rode for an hour to El Tronque. The guy charged me the full 10 Quetzales, but I think I should have only been charged 5. I got lucky and caught a direct van to Coban at El Tronque. This was a four hour ride in a 14 seater van with 22 people in it, 20 inside and 2 on top. It cost 40 Quetzales

It was about 10am when I arrived in Coban, and I took a much needed walk to the station where the vans left for Lanquin. The bus was ready to leave, so I picked up some snacks, paid for 15 quetzal ticket, and got on. I was seated next to the only other gringos on the van, and we quickly got to talking. They were a Canadian couple traveling for 6 months. They were staying at a Guatemalan owned hostel in Semuc (most travelers stay in Lanquin, a 9km, 25 min ride from Semuc). I had planned at staying at a different place in Semuc, but decided it would be easier to just stay with them.

It was still early by the time we got to Semuc. After unloading our things we went to swim in the river just behind the hostel. We could cliff dive (7m) from a boulder in the river. It was a great break from the heat of day. I ate my meals at the hostel and went to bed early and quickly despite the giant wolf spider in my room.

The next day I took the tour to Semuc. It cost the same as going by myself, and you get to do a little more if you go with a guide. We hiked up to the lookout then down to the water where the rocks make 5 pools from the crystal clear water. I even got the nerve up to make the 13m jump into the fifth pool! The Canadian couple has a waterproof camera, so there's proof!

There are also caves in Semuc, but I decided to forgoe the caves to rest up and take a trip into Lanquin where my cell phone would have service. I talked to some friends who would be in Antigua and got the address of their hostel. The next morning I left on a direct bus from Lanquin to Antigua. It's a 7 hr ride direct ride that can be done for 100 Quetzales by taking traditional transport and more time. I sprung the 130 Quetzales for the direct van.

Antigua was complete reverse culture shock. I felt like I was back in America. The bars had nice pool tables and flat panel televisions showing American sports games. The girls were dressed in the latest fashions whether American, Spanish, or Guatemalan. Everyone spoke good Spanish, and often English. On Saturday, I sat at a bar drinking coffee watching Iowa defeat Indiana 42-24 to maintain their perfect season.

At 2pm I headed out to Pakaya, a volcano an hour outside of Antigua. The transport and guide was 40 Quetzales, and the entry to the park is another 40Q. There were several hikers more than 50 years old on the hike, and the guide would not let us hike ahead. Eventually we made it to "3 rivers" where, surprisingly, 3 rivers of lava flow red hot. You're allowed to get as close as you want. Some people had brought marshmallows to roast. When the wind blows, the heat off the lava is incredible, but otherwise you feel the cool of 2500m altitude.

It was Halloween night, so I headed out to the bars and had a good 'ol time. The bars were no different than they were in Chicago last year except I spent the night talking to a Spanish girl who I first thought was Isreali.

I caught a ride back to Nebaj with my boss who had also been in Antigua. I missed the festival of the kites because he wanted to leave early, but I'm ok with that.

Money in Nebaj, Guatemala

I was expecting my life in Guatemala to be cheap, and it is. I put myself on a loose budget of 30 Quetzales ($3.60) per day. At this level one can sustain themself pretty well. I can have a piece of pie or cake at one of the cafes from time to time, check my email every other day, and eat out a couple times a week. This budget is for my daily expeditures. Things like propane for the stove, credit for my phone, and my share of the electric bill are paid as needed. These expenses come out to about 300 Quetzales ($36.00) per month. I do not pay rent. For me to live comfortably in Nebaj, it costs about $175 per month.

The organization I work for employs five masons to complete the construction of our projects. These are Guatemalan men with families. They earn 3500 Quetzales ($430) per month which is considered a good salary here. Teachers and Police make about same amount. Most of their wives work as well earning some additional income. With this, they can provide for their families in the city and have money to save up for a motorcycle, a television, and some land.

Peace Corps members in this area are paid 2800 Quetzales ($350) per month. They have to rent an apartment which costs around $100 a month and usually includes some meals. They are are able to live well in a city and save up for trips.

Yosemite: June 2008

I have a pretty interesting hike in Yosemite back in 2008. I thought this might be worth posting (and I already had it written). I learned some very important lessons on that trip. Primarily, do not forget your compass and know what condition your gear is in.

After one of the best nights of sleep I have ever had, I woke up early and began making preparations for my trip to Yosemite. I got my stuff out of my parents hotel room and had breakfast with my extended family. By 9AM I was at REI in Berkeley buying isobutane fuel for my new JetBoil stove. I realized that I had forgotten my pack towel and considered buying a new one, but I decided against it. I had an extra pair of underwear that I could use. I asked the girl at checkout if she knew where to find some refreshments for my trip. She told me to go to Peace Park (too perfect, right). When I got there it was full of sleeping bums. I asked around until one of them helped me out. Pretty soon I was on the highway heading east to Yosemite.

The lame suburbs that I passed were a lot like Chicago burbs except they were drier and had mountains in the background. I stopped at a gas station and bought a lighter and some rolling tobacco. Then I stopped again a few miles down the road for a burrito. I rolled up 5 spliffs in the parking lot while munching on tortilla chips then filled up gas where it was still cheap and hit the road. I was at the Ranger Station by 2 pm and it was raining pretty good. I was still wearing Johnston and Murphy dress shoes and Banana Republic jeans. When I asked about getting my backcountry permit they looked surprisingly unsurprised. When I told them the route I planned they seemed a bit skeptical that I could do those kinds of miles, but the younger ranger, who clearly knew the area better, asked me how many miles I could hike a day. I told her I could comfortably do 20 miles, and she looked at the other ranger and said, "yea, he'll be fine." As I waited for their Internet connection to come back online I changed into hiking apparel. My weathered hardshell clearly went noticed by the pretty rangers. The younger one had pretty gray blue eyes and curly brown hair. The older one was more classically beautiful with big brown eyes and straight brown hair. They rented me a bear canister (which they probably knew I had no intention of taking with me) and wished me luck. No one had been out on those trails this year, but they thought the conditions would be okay, and the snow cover should not be too deep over 7000 ft.

It was 7 miles through curvy mountain roads to the trail head. The rain was steady and the sun was nowhere to be seen. I was able to put down the backseats and get into the trunk. I got my pack together and made some final decisions about food. I locked up what I did not plan on taking with me in one of the bear boxes, and I asked some people who had just finished up what the conditions were like. They said they had been hiking through 2 days of rain and got the fuck-its. The weather was supposed to be better tomorrow and clear and sunny the next day. I would only have to put up with one day of bad rain. I thanked him, and he wished me luck. I hit the trail with with a little under 20 lbs on my back. I had 3L of water; for the remainder of the trip I never carried more than 1L. Water sources were quite plentiful, and with the MSR Hyperflow's actual 3L/min flow rate I didn't mind taking a minute to pump just a single liter of water (pump time was only 20 seconds, but it took some time to get my pack off and pump ready).

I felt good on the trail. The first 3 miles were an old paved road that switchbacked up the mountain. You got nice views of the reservoir. I saw red salamanders crossing the path. The rain even let up a bit as I got off the switchbacks into the woods. The sequoias were amazing. Trees as wide as the biggest oaks in Iowa and twice as tall. A lot of them had charred black bark at the bottom. I passed a few quiet groups making their way out. These were typically groups of 4 or more, and they didn't have anything to say to me besides a wordless nod of recognition. I made my way past the 4 mile mark which meant I could now set up camp. Camping is not allowed within 4 miles of the reservoir. I decided it would be dark soon enough, so I stopped to cook dinner. I had seen a good spot to set up camp not too far back. The fog was thick and getting thicker. I could no longer see the mountains across the reservoir. I cooked quinua that night, and by the time I finished eating it was dark out. I hiked by headlamp back the camping spot and set up my bivy. The grass was soft and I cleared the few sticks and rocks out of the area. I laid down and quickly fell asleep.

I had slept well below 7000 that night, and I never got very cold. I realized that water was getting in, but I didn't know how much. I figured it was mostly condensation. In the morning my stuff was pretty wet. The sleeping bag had gotten wet and the bivy had a good amount of water on the inside. The weather was supposed to be better that day and I would get a chance to dry out my stuff a bit. I cooked breakfast and got my things put away. Soon, I was back on the trail.

The fog was thick that day and it was impossible to get an idea of the time. The trail had been climbing steadily for some time and then it flattened out around 6700'. I stepped into a sequioa grove so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes. The forest was wet and foggy, and the color contrasts stood out even more because of it. The tree bark was patterned dark brown and red; bright green moss grew on the trunks of enormous sequoia trees. The forest floor was a dull orange covered by branches, leaves, and pine needles. Some trees were black from burn and dead trees stood as massive as the live ones with dryorange needles. How anyone could see such natural beauty and not be moved was a mystery to me. I took a break, smoked a spliff, and moved on.

The trail began to climb again and the snow quickly became present. Soon I was hiking though a foot of snow. Fresh bear tracks crossed the path. The trail had not been marked for a few miles now, and with the snow cover it was harder to follow. When in doubt I followed a deer trail that appeared to be going along the path. The deer never led me astray. I could hear the bear within a few hundred yards of me and there were small prints as well as large ones. With the fog so thick I was worried I would stumble upon a mother and cub, not realizing it until it was too late. I sang Sublime and rapped Outkast when I could not hear the bear to try and prevent this. The trail climbed above 8000 ft, then dropped a few hundred feet very sharply. Here it was very difficult to follow the trail. I frequently had to slide down 75 degree grades on my butt.

When the trail flattened out again I had reached the mountain lakes. The rain had still not let up and I had hiked more than 10 miles by now. I needed to dry out my sleeping bag and bivy, and it was starting to worry me that the rain was had not broke. Around the lakes it was impossible to follow the trail. There was so much more water that the trail was often under several feet of it in places. I ended up navigating by map, and I realized at this point that I had forgotten my compass in the car. I had to cross some deep water, but eventually I was able to pick up the trail again. I crossed a large open clearing and was soon at the point where the I turned off the trail for my loop.

I knew I was in the right place. There was a small sign displaying the trails and which direction they went. The sign pointed at a 50 ft wide river for my trail. I hiked down it a bit, but the water only got deeper. The only way across was the ford it. I stepped in and the water was cold. It got as much as waist deep, and when I got to the other side I just wanted to get moving to warm up. I could find no signs for the trail, but I felt that I could pick it up again and just kept moving. Before I knew it i was in waist deep snow, side stepping up the steep granite. I continued to make my way in. I looked at the map and I knew that if I continued east I would eventually hit the trail again. The problem was that I had no compass. I continued hiking in and up until I reached the peak. I had hiked in about a mile at this point. It reminded me of the sand dunes in San Pedro de Atacama, Chile because of the steepness and lack of anything but your own tracks. At the top of the cliff I stared down at a lake surrounded by high granite, snow covered mountains. I tried to figure out where I was on the map, but without the sun or a compass it was impossible. I knew it was well past midday, and I didn't want to get stuck out there with nowhere to camp. My sleeping bag was still wet. On the way up the mountain I had fallen through the snow to my chest more than once, and I knew that if I twisted an ankle out there I was going to be in real trouble. I had to turn back, but I knew it was going to be hard to get below 7000 ft to camp that night if I did. I had 3 miles to get below 7000 ft on the loop, and 6 miles to 7000 ft if I back tracked. I knew I had to turn back. It was going to be a bad night.

I found a decent place to camp on the loop side of the river and I thought I could set up and weather the night, then deal with it tomorrow. It was supposed to be sunny tomorrow. When I climbed into the cold wet sleeping bag in my cold wet bivy I knew there was no way I was getting any sleep at that elevation unless I was completely exhausted. I packed my things back up and set out. There could not be more than 2 hours of light left, but if I could get myself down to 7000 ft the night would not be totally miserable. I forded the river again and moved quickly toward the lakes. I had to hike fast if I wanted to get through the steep parts in some light. I was hiking as fast as I could. I knew I was taking a different route than I had on the way in, but it was too hard to try to match my steps when there were no snow tracks. I moved quickly and without too much thinking. It got dark quick and soon I was hiking by headlamp. I don't know when I got turned around, but by time I realized, it was too dark to try to continue the right way. I had gotten mixed up around the lakes and hiked in a circle. I cursed myself for doing something so stupid, but it was too dangerous to try that terrain by headlamp. I walked to the sand bar before the river and set up for a cold night.

My sleeping bag was wet. The top and bottom of the bag were soaked but the middle was only wet. I got into the fetal position in the middle of my bag and tried to sleep. There was so little oxygen that I woke up gasping for air. This happened a few time throughout the night, but it was so cold when I stuck my head out of the sleeping bag that I kept crawling back inside.

I woke up the next morning as soon as I could tell it was light out. The snow was still crunchy on top; it was still below freezing. I was very cold, and I had to thaw my socks before putting them on. Nothing had dried at all. I put on my boots then pulled my pants on over them. I gathered my things and got moving. I was too cold to cook breakfast.

I made my way back methodically this time. I checked the map frequently to prevent doubling back like I had last night. Every so often the sun even peaked through the clouds. The cloud cover was thin enough that I could locate where the sun was in the sky. I wanted to be moving west, and I made sure I had the sun at my back. It wasn't sunny like it was supposed to be, but the weather was great compared to what I'd had for the past 2 days. The rain came and went, but around midday it stopped and I took out my bivy and sleeping bag to dry. I was actually able wring water out of the sleeping bag. After I stopped for a spliff and some food, I fixed the sleeping bag to the outside of my pack (to allow it to dry) and kept moving. I had about 16 miles to hike that day, and I was ready to be off the trail.

The fog was not nearly as thick for most of the day and I was able to see the mountains for the first time. Around the lakes there were amazing views with the landscape perfectly reflected in the water. Before I knew it I was out of snow cover and past half way. The first people I saw were a group of two older men. We stopped and chatted. I told them some of what I had been through. They were not planning on going out as far as I had. They were staying on the marked trails. Shortly after that I passed a group of two young guys. They complained about the rain we were getting. It was supposed to be sunny. I agreed that some sun would be nice. I took a lot of pictures that last day. It was the first time I had good visibility and I could take pictures without getting my camera wet. The smell in the wet sequoia groves was like potpourri.

When I made it to the last switchbacks my knee was starting to give me trouble. The cloud cover was coming in heavier, and I did not want to get poured on again. Truthfully, I was just ready to be off the trail. I hustled down the work pavement, my poles clanking loudly against the asphalt. As I got closer to the bottom there were tourists strolling on the pavement. They gave me dirty looks, probably because the racket I was making. I didn't care. I could see the damn from there and I was ready to change into some dry clothes.

When I got to the parking lot I talked to a guy who had been out the night before. He had apparently built a large fire and many hikers had stopped by to warm up. He was waiting for the rain to stop before he went back out. He was a jolly, friendly guy, and when a ranger showed up he was able to get an okay to sleep in his car in the parking lot that night. He seemed like a wanderer. He probably bends a lot of rules.

A couple guys approached me to ask about trail conditions. They wanted to do the same loop that I had planned. I told them they would have difficulty picking up the trail on the other side of the river and not to follow my tracks on that side. I told them the best I could about the conditions and told them where to watch out and what to watch out for. They applauded my efforts and noticed my ultralight gear. I gave them my remaining isobutane. We could have talked all day, but we were both ready to be somewhere else. I got in my car and drove away. I hope they broke the rest of the loop.