The official state bird might have been visiting this morning just for water but the mission also could have been lizards. He seemed annoyed that Cowboy and I were sitting nearby in the shade. It sounded like he blew us a raspberry. It had me recalling my half-sisters as kids saying “Beep it” when they wanted someone to move.
It started a week ago.
And more dust than rain at sunset.
Good company and rain for dinner at my stepsister’s house, the one she built herself.
Microbursts from fleeting early summer storms blasted us with 55 mph gusts. Cowboy and I were feeling low. I took refuge in Longmire, Las Vegas and the Valles Caldera, cool trucks on the screen and Cowboy by my side. “Transcendental Blues” plays in the opening scenes.
I remember where I attempted to read Tolstoy.
It was in a lantern-lit tent at 11,000 feet in the eastern Sierra Nevada while constructing a five-mile section of the Pacific Crest Trail in 1972. We started in July and got snowed out of our 15-man camp at Chicken Spring Lake in October. Our section of the trail ran from Cottonwood Pass to Siberian Outpost.
I usually was too tired and cold to read much at night and sometimes I had headaches from being around dynamite and C4 plastic explosive. Maybe rock bars and Cobra drills too. But I figured it was a good time to tackle War and Peace, even though the mere pronunciation of names gave me trouble.
I honestly can’t remember if I finished both volumes and all 1444 pages of this paperbound edition purchased in Bishop. I’m sure I made it all the way through Volume 1 but the other day I found the bookmark from the Spellbinder Book Shop between Pages 998 and 999 in Volume 2.
I stumbled across this during my morning rabbit hole hopping and am reprinting it here because I like his descriptions of San Francisco and New York. Enlarge the type to read.
dream ranch 