Sharing - Joshua Tree December '08 Trip

It's about time I began telling stories from my December trip to Joshua Tree. People have been asking, and I've been procrastinating....

As usual, I flew into Vegas and took the back roads through Cima/Kelso/Amboy. I just live that drive, and not only because I can drive practically at the speed of light.

Well, actually, I did set a personal speed record. Two hours flat, from the Charleston Avenue exit in Las Vegas to the 29 Palms entrance of the park! And that was WITH a rubbernecking traffic slowdown along the way, par the course in Vegas.

"Two hours! That's unheard of!" people remarked. Apparently, the trip is supposed to be more like....three hours. Well, what can I say? I didn't stop for photos this time, I guess. That's the only explanation I can come up with.

So, I rolled into Jtree just as the sun was coming down. The weather had been clowdy since getting off the plane, but I realized that would make for a nice sunset, and I wasn't disappointed.



I wanted to get a photo with a more intriguing horizon and knew I had to act fast and get toward at least the Jumbo Rocks area. Alas, it was not to be. I kept my eye on the sun as it dropped, with the sky becoming more vibrant with each moment, but I just didn't see my shot. Maybe next time.....

By the time I got to Hidden Valley campground, it was dusk. And there was a problem. Thought the "campground full" sign was not posted, it became evident quite quickly that there was, in fact, no room at the inn. Disappointed, I knew what I would have to do - ask someone if I could stay in their stable...I mean, share their site.

I'm a nervous sort, when it comes to "getting my things done." I don't know why, but until I'm settled, I fret over the outcome. I needed to find a spot, get set up, and then run into town and let the people who would meet me the next day know where to find me. And get dinner. Having been traveling since 5am, I was also tired and now I had to do something I found difficult - asking for help. From strangers, no less.

As I drove through the campground, I spotted a possibility. One car in the parking spot, and one smallish tent in the site. Of course, the most attractive quality was that the campers were home....

I walked into the site, calling "helllooo!" There were two, a man and woman, probably a couple, who seemed to be a little older than I. My gut instinct told me they would be elderly folks who would be put out by the request. No surprise, that's exactly what occurred.

The good news was that it was all a ploy. They were toying with me, asking all manner of questions as to my place of original, intent, and personality. Questions of where, exactly, did I want to place my tent. And, did I have interesting stories to regale them with. Offers of letting me stay for a $50 fee, being from New York City and all, surely I could afford it.... They were enjoying themselves.

Unfortunately, I was not. Enjoying myself. I was actually becoming quite irritated, though I guess I kept it hidden well enough. I mean - a few jokey questions was one thing, and I played along. But I needed a campsite!

After a few minutes of this, with the status of the situation being that they "supposed" it "might" be all right, I had had enough. Unwilling to go along with the game any longer, I played the only card I had left. "Well - I didn't check (another section of the park - a lie) so I'll go do that."

Not to say they let up much, but they did make it more evident that I was welcome to set up shop. Which I quickly did!

Not wanting to be ungrateful, I stuck around a bit before doing that, and found out they were actually quite nice, and very interesting people. They'd been on their own road trip since Labor Day, and Joshua Tree was the eight National Park they'd visited in that time. Their names were Donna and Joe, and they hailed from Vermont. They'd been transient sorts throughout their married life together, had grown children who were doctors and pilots and even one who rock climbed(they only mentioned the careers of three out of their four, though, and later I wondered if the "rock climber kid" wasn't the one with no career....).

They asked if I wanted to join them for breakfast the next morning, and though it was quite generous, I feared they might be crack-o-dawn risers and didn't commit. Luckily, when I did rise the next morning, they still had some left. No doubt they'd set the absolutely delicious scrambled eggs with vegetables aside, and kept them warm for me. That's the sort of people they turned out to be, and I had almost missed out on making their acquaintance because of my impatience and anxiety.

Anyway - I had gone into town after having settled my tent, and when I returned they were still up at their campfire. I was tired, and wanted to go to bed, but instead I did the right thing, and went over to visit. That's when I learned of their interesting lives. They regaled ME with stories! And, though it didn't seem like it, they found out a lot about about me by asking questions of my circumstances.

It happened that they were departing the next day. This was excellent news, I had to admit to myself, as it turned out they had obtained one of the premier, and historically important, campsites in Hidden Valley, and I could take it over for my stay. It was the old Chongo industrial complex, where he set up for winter and ran his shoe resoling shop(or "illegal textile business" as it was technically referred to when he was evicted).

The site - 34? - IS a great one. The camp area is set back quite far from the road, and has very nice rock formations at the back. protected form wind in many directions, it offers privacy, beauty and roominess. A LOT of people could bivy there....

They also had a dog. A wonderful old Springer Spaniel. I wished I had my Teddy, and it was nice to have a good dog in camp. They were traveling the country in a small SUV with their dog - exactly what I wanted for myself.

Now - there is something peculiar that happened, which I found out about only after they'd left. There HAD been indication, as one realizes after the fact but at the time only thinks "hmmm...what's up with that?"

At one point, Donna walked over to my tent and made some comment about checking it out. That was the "WTF?" moment. She didn't seem to be the sort who would do something evil.... I was pretty certain her inquiry was not malicious. Nonetheless, I went over and "gave her the tour," which she appeared to be quite interested in, comparing their tent and mine, and such.

"Well," I told myself, "she was just interested in my tent was all." I knew that hadn't quite been the case, but just had no idea what it had all been about. They were such decent, open and cool people that I thought no more of it though.

Until I returned after a day of climbing that night.

I made a fire and went to start dinner. When I pulled out my kitchen pack(a soft-sided nylon 6-pack cooler with a secondary upper compartment) and unzipped the top to get some spices, I noticed a white envelope had been placed there.

At first I was puzzled, trying to recall when and why I had done that. I have to admit I DID have a moment of "Oh No! I DO have multiple personality Disorder!!!!" as I realized without doubt that I had NOT put it there. I was a loner! I lived alone, except for my dog, and though Teddy is damned smart, he's not THAT smart that he could put a card in my luggage....

That's when it clicked. It was Donna who'd placed the envelope, though not during the "tent tour." That had been her intent, but I'd foiled it.

She must have come back a second time, when I was enjoying that wonderful breakfast they'd shared with me. By the way, it also included coffee and a hunk of good bread with orange marmalade. How often do you keep marmalade for yourself, I ask? Never, if you're me. It was quite a treat.

Being the sort who has difficulty receiving for help, I didn't ask if they had milk and sugar when Joe handed me the cup of black coffee.

No....I'd gone to my tent, pulled out my kitchen pack, opened the top, and pulled out my baggie of sugar....


What a nice couple, Joe and Donna were, to leave me a card. The envelope said "For Terrie and Teddy - Do not open til Christmas(or Chanakuh; the writing was not legible, and I think that may even have been the intent)." On the back of the envelop was written "It IS Chanukah(or Christmas...)."

So of COURSE I opened it!

Inside was a lovely card, with an image of Georgia O'Keeffe's "Oriental Poppies."


On the inside, they'd written:

Dear Terrie, and Teddy -

May all great loving adventures continue to find you.

You have a splendid spirit.

With Love, Donna & Joe



Isn't that nice?!

Yes, I am sure you would agree that it is.

But that's not all.


Along with that nice note there was a gift. A cash gift. One one hundred dollar bill.



I am not making this up.


It was quite a surprise, of course. With a - small - bit of embarrassment, I wondered "Was I THAT obvious about my financial issues???" Well, probably I was. After all, I HAD told them how my funding for the trip had been tenuous(at best) and finally fell into place as my clients paid their invoices in the days before my departure. AND I told them how I wanted to leave NYC but didn't have a good plan laid out. How I was trying to make my way with my online ventures - just enough to support a nomadic lifestyle, of course, which takes a lot less than a physical domicile... And I HAD talked about my difficulties in working for others....


I was quite taken aback, and I left the card, and money, in my kitchen pack, taking it out to look at it each time I made food. Eventually I realized I had better put the cash somewhere more secure, and moved it to the back section of my wallet.

I wondered how I should honor their gift. Perhaps they felt I'd use it for daily expenses. Or buy myself some nice gift.

Well - that's what I did.

In the past few years, I have changed my ideas about money a bit. Partly it's due to saving for the climbing trips, but it's more about not existing in a state of deprivation. I lived a good part of my life that way, having gone without what many would consider basics for living - adequate clothing, shelter and privacy. As a young adult, I handled my money poorly, and would often find myself with nothing in my pocket by the time pay day rolled around. Jobs where the check came every two weeks instead of weekly were even worse.

But I learned to take care of myself, and that meant making sure I DID have adequate food, clothing, shelter AND things to make my life abundant. While I don't live beyond my means(no credit cards nor borrowing from friends and family and such), I will make sure I am taken care of. If that means calling the energy company to explain my payment will be late, so that I have my rent paid on time and food in the cupboards, that's what I will do.

And with that change, I have found that I DO have enough. In fact, I have an abundant life. Sure - by the standards of some - it is lacking. I own no car, and don't own my home. But how many of those people only THINK they have those things, when the truth is that without the device of credit, they wouldn't have them at all?

Anyway - so with this changing of my concept of money, I have found that when I receive a windfall, I like to use it in a memorable way. Last year, I used my bonus money from clients to purchase a good camera; something I'd been wanting for a long time. And when a small payment from my mother's life insurance - a payment that had been in limbo for FOUR years!(that's another story) - arrived in my mailbox, I set that amount aside to partially pay for my trip to Yosemite last fall. I had wanted to attend the Yosemite Facelift and didn't have the funds. But when that check arrived - it became possible. I made my first trip to Yosemite and had amazing experiences.

So, here I was, blessed with this gift of one hundred dollars in cash. I briefly wondered what I should do with it as I placed it safely away. But I knew that it must be something memorable and not simply used to defray daily expenses. That way, I conjur the energy and memories of my shared camping experience with Joe and Donna whenever I use the item purchased with the funds, or recall where the money was used.

Several days later, the use became apparent.


...to be continued.



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Road Trip Pre-TR

Busy, busy, busy...I have photos to edit, catalog, email, and post for the Goddesses on the Rocks event I talked about here.

So, instead of making an all-inclusive "here's what happened" report, I'm breaking it down into segments.

The plan was to Amtrak to Boston, where my friend Cheryl would pick me up. We'd stay the night at her place(a very nice little arts& crafts-y bungalow she's got, though I'm not sure if technically it's a bungalow. But I love built-ins and simple, beautiful wood trim, and the place had the original in place.). The next morning, we'd pick up person #3 from he airport, head to a campsite near North Conway, and get in a day of climbing on Friday.

Then, the Goddesses event for the weekend. And, as you may recall, I had no plan as to my transportation back....but obviously, it has worked out, and I am back home, being bombarded with the anxieties and troubles of city-living in the age of advanced technology. yesterday, my AOL service was FUBAR - that should be in 96-point type, by the way - yesterday. SO messed up that I spent more than 6 hours in attempts to diagnose/repair, with less than 15 minutes of that involving human tech support(an epic unto itself, but luckily I saw the route would not go early on, and bailed before committing past the first few moves..... GRRRR).

The train ride - This was stylee mass transport, in my book. I had a few options. Take the Acela, which is supposedly that ultrafast ride.... But at twice the cost, with only a half an hour shaved off in transit time, I felt it was a rip-off, and declined. Maybe there is something I missed that makes it worthwhile....I couldn't say.

They also offered an upgrade from coach class to business on Amtrak. Now, I consider myself a luxe dirtbag, so I automatically rejected the "upgrade" without even checking the price.

Locally, I'm used to taking Metro North to the Gunks, with my dog. I get the stink-eye if I take a seat(they're for 2-leggeds only, apparently) and so I ride in the open section for baggage and bikes, using my cooler for a seat, with Teddy curled around me somewhere nearby. simply having a SEAT is an upgrade for me, so I didn't think I'd mind the coach class train ride.

Well - Let me tell you something! I don't know what business class Amtrak offers, but Coach service has butt width seats and leg room enough for the biggest touron venturing cross country. Plush, clean better than any airline seats, in my experience. I settled in comfortably, and the only distasteful item was that the guy across the aisle was yammering into his cel phone for he entire first hour of the trip. Funnily, his big, oft-repeated topic was how "so and so" suffered from narcissistic personality disorder....

Finally, he got off the phone, and soon after got off the train, and I was left to the quiet of my inner thoughts while I watched the northeast corridor glide past as the sun headed round the horizon.

The drive up next morning, from Boston to New Hampshire, was a highway cruise, but since it was my first trip in the area, I was very happy enjoying the changing scenery as we entered mountainous ranges. Very pretty land, and as we drove the smaller roads the next few days, I saw many wonderful old homes, barns and outbuildings. Another few weeks and the foliage color-shift will make such a trip one to relish.

We camped at Covered Bridge campsite in the White Mountain National Forest.. The campground seems nice, I think, though I don't know what other options are available in the area. It had large, quasi-secluded sites that were clean(in fact, it appears someone comes in with a rake in-between tenants), fresh, cold water that comes from a hand pump down the road(there's something to be said for manual labor in exchange for subsistence). Best of all - there are huge logs set across the roadways, at about 8 feet off ground level, thus stopping any RV or monster-tired truck in their tracks.

Apparently, we were pegged as undesirables from the get-go by the campsite host though... Within a few minutes of our choosing a site and unpacking, he drove up in his golf cart and told us to slow it down in our driving. When we returned from our climbing session in the early evening, a form-letter list of Rules to be Broken was tacked under an item on the picnic table. I'd tented on foliage, it seems, although what I'd actually staked my claim on was the same surface that covered the rest of the tent area(gravel). It did have a carpet of dried leaves, but I honestly wasn't anywhere near putting up on the forest dirt ground. Ahh well... I am not one to piss off the guy in charge of my accommodations. So, I quickly moved my tent.

We then set out to begin our evening meal, and as we were doing so, a car that happened to be the same make and model as ours came careening down the road(that means they were going a little faster than the posted fast-idle posted speed limit). As I saw them pass our site, I told the girls "Watch - we're going to get blamed for that one!"

Sure enough! The host came Barney-Fifing down the road in hot pursuit! Off course, he'd had to get off his chair, call his wife/deputy and into the golf cart beforehand, so it was a few minutes later that he screeched to a halt in front of our site.....

I called out an apology for my tent, but was cut off with an officious "I TOLD you not to drive so fast in here!"

Well! My site mates weren't having any bully bullying them around, and they let him have it! Cheryl EVEN pointed her finger at him while declaring "That wasn't us!"

Luckily, she deflected the situation by explaining the look-alike vehicle and adding something like "We get into enough trouble on our own without having someone else's trouble added!"

He laughed at that one and that was the last we saw of the sheriff while we were in his town....

Climbing - Cheryl took us to a lesser-known crag to climb that day, so as not to lessen our experience with the Goddesses event if we'd be going to Cathedral or Whitehorse Ledges the next few days. She chose a slab area called Lost Horizons, which was just a short ride away from our camp area.

The hike in was...vigorous. At least it was for me... The heat and humidity added a level of exertion, but nobody else in the group(we'd met up with some others of Cheryl's friends) suffered as I did.

I don't know what happened, but after a few minutes, I was having some difficulty in my hike. I had stupidly left my full rack in my pack, not wanting to leave it in the car, which was parked along a busy-enough roadway. I fell back to the rear, and later took a short rest. Continuing on, I felt overheated again in another few minutes and had to stop.

By that point, we were a few minutes away from the crag, and Cheryl(enduro-woman, as you'll see in the photos below) had already gotten there, dropped her pack and returned. She offered to take the rope I was carrying, and I gave no resistance.

I decided to take it easy for the rest of the approach, no matter that everyone else was moving more quickly. But then, a steep section came up, and I found myself feeling a little light-headed. I sat down on a log, thinking it would be a short rest and suddenly I was accosted with a full on attack of dizziness and nausea.

Wow! It was bad. I truly thought I was going to pass out and throw up. So, I put my head down between my knees and waited as wave after wave rolled through my body.

Not sure what was causing the thing, I came up with the idea that I must have had my first menopausal hot flash, and when I tried that excuse out on the others(most of whom had already been there/done that) they didn't buy it..... But, they were good-natured about me and my excuse for physical unfitness. It WAS, I will admit, "that time" of the month, and it was generally agreed upon that the humidity, the semi-stiff approach, my pack weight, and the iron loss probably was what did it. Kindly, the "maybe a few sit-ups once in a while" suggestion was not offered as a remedy for repeat occurrences....

So - I survived, though I didn't feel so great, and was careful to be safe once we began climbing. The crag is a slab that rises into routes that range from 5.4 to about 5.8(so far as I know). The trail at the base is simply a footpath where rock meats dirt, and the angle of the slope continues downward, so any trips or stumbles mean down you go, only to be stopped by the forest of trees.

We climbed about 5 routes, with everyone getting a shot on all if they desired. The easiest routes were simply walk-ups, where no real route-finding is required other than the obvious(Go upwards). But the first bolts were up there, and then there were some run-out sections.

I chose to lead a route that was purported to be 5.6, a grade I'd stand by. And that first 25 feet of slab definitely did keep me on my toes(well, actually not, for I pasted as much rubber as I could get). The thought of coming off, and the awareness that the fall wasn't simply to the cliffside trail but onward and into the woods.... made for a sporty feel.

The first bolt passed and I breathed my relief sigh and continued onward. I don't recall feeling any worry about runout on the route, and the climbing was not too difficult(I lead Gunks 5.5). But the anchor! Oh my.....

I have heard of suspect anchors, but this one was definitely a runner for the title of Miss Manky Anchor. Not bolted, by the way. It consisted of a natural bridge-like bit of rock, with a shallow tunnel under it. The width of the bridge was maybe 8 inches or so, but the rock quality was pure, disintegrating as you watch, choss. It had the consistency of sandcastle material with some pebbles added for texture.

At any rate, the climbing was fun; I do like slab. And the route did require some skill in finding the best path, plus it had two crux-y spots(the first before the first bolt).

Still - I nicknamed this crag the "Green Acres Crag." It seemed every route had something....."off" about it. My lead was the awful anchor. There was a route that appeared to have a HUGE run out with groundfall potential from 60 feet up. It was an illusion....The missing bolt was actually in situ. It just happened to be several feet off the natural course of the route.

Another line had anchors placed at a point where a 60-meter rope meant the belayer had to climb 15 feet off deck(easy 5th class moves) to gain the belay stance. It WAS a nice little dish, although the space was tight for leader/belayer to start out on. Nowhere to anchor the belayer, so the leader had best not come off....

And it seemed that someone had made some effort to clear the slabby face of years of lichen. Except the clear spots tended to be in between where the bolts were placed! The routes tended to go straight through grainy lichen patches, making the routes feel as if peppered with a little local spice.

At any rate, it was a fun day, out climbing with a group of women in a quiet setting. We saw no other people while we were there.

As we drove back to camp, Cheryl stopped just after passing through the campground's namesake covered bridge. She wanted to show us what she called a Party Trick. Now, before you peruse the pictures, I should mention that earlier in the day we had been talking about training regimes (Of which, I volunteered I had none).

Cheryl, on the other hand..... did tell us that one of her endurance exercises includes doing repetitions of pull-ups to exhaustion. The thing is to do 5 pull-ups in a minute, and repeat each minute until incapable. So, you do 5 and then have the "rest" of the minute to rest.... Next mintue, same thing. Supposedly......one starts out with lots of rest time, which lessens as the reps build up.

Cheryl does this for.....45 minutes.


....I know.


So - the party trick consists of climbing, hand over hand, up this iron guyline, and then exiting through the pretty window on the bridge.








She did it in one shot, taking probably about 10 seconds, fully locked off the entire way.


What a sicko!


ADENDUM: 9/14 - I just remembered.... When I climbed with this hardwoamn the first time, it was in JTree on April of this year. She had told me that the day before she and some other chicks had gone to the legendary Gunsmoke to do some bouldering.....

She, having never been there before, and being newish to rock climbing, looked at the traverse(from the overhanging end) and....seeing no feet.... had one of the others boost her to the holds. And she proceeded to CAMPUS the traverse fully to the corner. Clean. Onsite.

ummm...yeah.
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Camp Cooking: Brinkman Eggs and Toast

I bought one of those camp toaster things when a few years ago; you know, the metal disk that goes over the cook flame, with wires that hold the pieces of bread at an angle? You’re supposed to put the flame on high to get the thing hot, then turn the flame down, place the bread on it and magically gauge the exact moment when the bread transitions from not toasted one bit, to burnt black in one small section. Turn over and repeat.

It sucked.

No matter how hard I tried – shield the thing from wind, rotate before flipping, pray to the ToastMaster…it still produced a fairly unsatisfactory piece of toast. No type of bread, from high brow to low bran seemed to have an impact.

I gave up after a few tries, though that didn’t stop me from buying a second toaster when Delta Airlines once lost my luggage with ALL my camp cooking gear and clothing inside(never, ever to be seen again, though they did reimburse fully without pause).

Besides – who needs toast, when there’s delicious oatmeal recipes to try (wait until you get the apples and maple recipe… I promise to put it down before autumn kicks in), and crunchy peanut butter and honey, etc. on a bagel. Or even French toast – which isn’t toast as I ever knew it.

But sometimes a person just wants simple eggs and toast, and though you can’t beat the Main Street Bistro in New Paltz for their special (2 eggs, toast AND potatoes for like $1.95), if you are like me, and don’t have a car to get into town, that breakfast is as unattainable as the halfway decent toast I was seeking in the first place.

Until now, that is.

I don’t travel light; that’s always been a problem of mine and even now, I still carry enough crap for a weekend upstate that I get at least a few comments each trip (“Is that ALL you have?” Or “Running away from home?” YES, dammit. To both those questions.) Usually I am up there for Friday night’s dinner, and leave on Sunday afternoon. And I have Teddy of course. So, I pack a lot of crap.

Usually, I bring a loaf of bread, to have with pasta one night and a sandwich on Sundays, when I do trail work and have to share a sandwich with Ted in order to keep him from cajoling others out of theirs. Even so, that loaf barely gets cracked, and back to the city it comes.

A few weeks ago, I was looking at that bread and thinking “I have got to find a way to use more of these loaves when I am up here.” Looking around, I accept the fact – Camp Slime is not Hidden Valley Campground at JTree, where there are dirtbags chirping at various nesting sites in the vicinity. Slime, even for it’s rustic (read: complete) shabbiness, is rarely host to anyone who might be hungry. Offering leftovers or unused goods at a stay’s close will bring looks of suspicion rather than intense gratitude. So, sharing wasn’t an option.

It was at that moment that it occurred to me I could toast the bread in a buttered pan. Now, having only one fry pan, I quickly understood I faced a dilemma. For toast is not really a stand-alone food; toast likes to partner up, usually with eggs. I could have done the poached eggs, in my small pot, I thought. Of course, that’s still always an option. But as anyone who cooks outside knows – everything needs to be cooked and ready to eat at the same time, unless cold food doesn’t bother you. I know – some people aren’t bothered; I am. Poached eggs are tough enough to time properly (in MY opinion), but to have decently made toast at the same time? I don’t know how I could expect that.

And out of that distaste for flawed food, Brinkman Eggs and Toast was born. I know I’ve kept you waiting for the recipe(instructions, really) long enough, but I think you can wait a bit more, as I should say it’s called “Brinkman” Eggs and Toast because my tabletop stove(2-burner, I told you I don’t travel light) is that brand. It’s a Coleman knockoff, but stainless steel. Classy.

So – here’s what you do.

First – use good bread. If you’re going to be taking my advice, take it properly or don’t blame me if you’re not duly impressed with your attempt. Grocery store pre-sliced bread-like food is not really bread as I understand it. To me, good bread is chewy and dense in the center, and the crust is NOT crunchy. I didn’t like scraping the roof of my mouth on Cap’n Crunch as a kid, and I don’t like bread crusts that remind me of the trauma as an adult.

Bread can be simple, or abundant with bran, seeds, olives, fruit and/or nuts. Your choice, but BE&T (Brinkman Eggs and Toast) was conceived with a more humble white bread. That’s not to say crappy (as in …well, we already discussed that in the above paragraph.

One issue that will arise is the fact that camp fry pans are small. Seven inches diameter, unless you’re car camping with the kitchen sink. I may travel heavy, but the cast iron 12-inch pan stays at home. So – choose bread that is not too highly domed. That leaves out round loaves, although I suppose you could simply cut one slice off and then halve it for your two pieces of toast(for toast also comes in sets; am I wrong?).

Alright….the other important thing is to get all your stuff ready before you turn on the stove. Pepper, salt (not needed, since using more butter than a French pastry for this recipe), eggs, plate, turning utensil, butter. Of course, you should slice the bread you’ll use before beginning too.

It should also be mentioned that these instructions are for one plus a small share for a dog. Or one person alone if you don’t have a dog like Teddy, who has become accustomed to sharing meals. Couples and groups – I’m sorry. You’ll have to figure it out for yourselves. It shouldn’t be too difficult. If I had a man (hint, hint), I would simply make one set and share it, and then make another one and share that one too. With buddies and groups, similar concept, only you’ll be sharing the pan, instead of the food. First one in line gets the first meal.

So – FINALLY – Here’s what you do.

Get all the stuff ready and set up your stove. Put a good sized pat of butter in the pan and melt it at a low heat. Oh, yes. I cook as heavily as I travel. If you don’t use old-style basic foodstuffs, you’ll be disgusted by my cooking. Or will have to adapt with ingredients you prefer.

So….the butter has melted. Be careful with the heat. Burned butter is gross.

Set the two pieces of bread in the pan and heat till the bottom is warmed through (you’d guess) but not fully browned. While this is happening, thinly slice some more bits of butter, and place them on top of the bread. You’ll flip the bread, when ready, and the softened butter will work better than having a dry pan.

Flip the bread when you feel like it, and try to get them placed toward the outer edge of the pan, with a ditch in the center. Crack two eggs and put them in that ditch. Depending on your bread choice, you may not have much of a ditch. That’s okay. Just put the damned eggs in the pan. We’re not having a beauty pageant.

Time for the pepper. I like a lot of pepper. And I like good pepper, too. Don’t use Roundy’s Crappy Cracked Pepper and think that’s pepper. Good pepper is….well, you know. Better.

If it’s cold out, cover the pan loosely. Or, if you are in a hurry, or wishing to conserve gas, do the same. Hell – cover the pan. Dinosaurs died for that fuel and there aren’t any more waiting to make the sacrifice. Your loathsome leader might have you believe we have good young men and women doing just that (dying so we can have gas), and maybe you hold that stance too. But, waste is waste. Cover the pan and save the fuel.

Now…. The eggs are beginning to set. It’s time for the flip.

Keep in mind that you’ll be toasting the other side of the bread now, and don’t overcook the eggs, if you like them less than over hard.

Take out a spatula (yes…you NEED a spatula. Well, maybe not. You could probably stab one side of the thing with a fork, pick it all up in one piece and turn it just fine). Yes – everything will be “melted” together. That’s the charm of the thing.

Now, continue to cook the other side…..

Time to eat! Get your plate ready, grab that fork or spatula and turn the entire thing out onto the plate. Now…you’re going to make a sandwich-y sort of maneuver. Remember, the eggs are stuck to the bread. Don’t try to separate them fully, or you’ll end up frustrated. Just get the most of each egg away and place them on one of the piece of bread (well, now it’s actually toast). Then, turn the other piece of toast on top, eggs layered inside.

I eat mine with a knife and fork, because the bread will have butter and eggs all over it. But you can eat it with your hands if that is what you want to do.

This is actually more like a grilled cheese sort of toast as opposed to an in-the-toaster sort of toast. But – the great thing is that it will ALL be one temperature. Nice and warm. And you won’t be buttering cold toast, while you’re eggs get cold in the interim. Unless you didn’t eat it right away.

Anyway –that’s Brinkman Eggs and Toast. The photo's the meal on my stove, just after the eggs were set in the pan.

Berry Good at the Gunks

....mmmmm, blackberries.....

Last weekend was the first I noticed those of the wild(?) patch growing at Camp Slime were ready to eat. This weekend, I snuck over and snaked all there were a couple of times. They'e right there in plain sight, but I think they go unoticed by most everyone who passes by, thinking the foliage is just a jumble of weeds.

One man's trash is another man's treasure!

I Don't Need No More Tent Stakes

The first time I came across a buried-to-the-hilt one in my site, I thought "Sweet! I feel bad for the guy who didn't grab it when he broke camp, but I can always use a spare." And I pocketed the thing.

When I camp in JTree it gets windy, sometimes apocalyptically so, and it's every guy(wire) for himself. Unless you want you to find your tent blown past the wash, saved only by an armored cholla, you'd tether your tent at every point, too.

But back to my story....The next time I found a stake, at the same camp place(Camp Slime in the Gunks), I though "What's wrong with people? ADDH has gotten way out of control...."

This weekend, my favorite spot was taken. So was my second choice. Hopeing there was something behnd Door Number Three, I gazed over, behind the ranger cabin, and saw....emptiness. Lugging my gear through the wooded lot, stepping carefully over the moss growths and jumping a log-come-gate at the entrance of the site, I began to unstuff my tent.

If you've ever been in Slime, you know that finding flat ground is an adventure; the whole place slopes gradually downhill and is actually a talus field glazed with a few millenium's worth of soil. Poke around, just a few inches below ground level, and you come to rocks. (Sung to the tune of the old Armour Hot Dog ditty "Big rocks, little rocks, lots and lots of rocks! Flat rocks, sickening rocks, wish a lifelong pox on rocks....). It's not like you can plane some space; you're pretty much stuck with what is available.

So....I locate "the flat space"(which is actually my prime requirement in a Camp Slime *favorite site*) and lay down the groundcloth. "What's this?" I query, catching a glint of shining silver in the light.. Disappointed, I see it's just another tent stake. But I pull it up anyway. Even though, in the last month alone, I have garnered enough new nails at Slime that I can now come to the aid of my neighbors in a windstorm, there comes a point where weight becomes a consideration..... well, at least if you're taking the alpinist's attitude..... I hate to waste. So I set the stake aside, and will holster it when I stow my tent nail quicker.

Going about my business, I notice more buried stakes. Not just the one. Not even two or three. There is a FULL SET of tent stakes at this site.

It's come to the point where I'm beginning to think there are as many nails in the ground at Slime as there are rocks!

But....back to my story.

I can only imagine how this whole tent's worth of pins came about....Some guy maybe brought his new Big City little cutie along for a weekend in the great outdoors, her first time in the woods(...awwwww). She might have pretended she liked it, and even offered to help with camp life work. But by weekend's demise, she had had enough. Especially after finding out a "day at the incredible Gunks; I'll teach you to climb. It's awesome!" consisted of intermittent scenes of terror(while she went up to clean gear on his routes) and belay slave(as she held the rope for his leads or, more likely, TR hangfests).

And so, when Johnny directed Mai Ling to "pack up the tent, sweetie" as they broke camp....passive-aggressiveness took hold.

That's the only reason I can come up with for someone to leave behind a full set of (brand new, by the way) stakes. Imagining the sweet revenge, as John goes to set up camp next time and finds no way to batten down the hatches, she smiles at him and performs as directed....
.
.
.
.
.Okay...there are plenty of other scenarios. But I am out of time. This is supposed to be just a bit on a "Clean up your litter folks!" campaign.

Camp Slime is a HIGHLY trafficked camp space, and each week I find garbage all overe the place. There's a pair of shit-filled(I assume) sweatpants stuck in the craw of a downed tree's rootball at Happie's(that's me) FAVORITE site(I bring a trash bag with me and will remove them, next time I get that spot(disgust). There are
always beer caps and cig butts littering at least one campsite floor.

In my second choice spot, one weekend I found a used tea bag. Gross enough, on it's own. But then, like the family of tent stakes, I saw another. And another and still another. At least 5 used tea bags littered an area less than 20 square feet. The same site, strewn with peanut shells. Like a chain-store bar that used the trash heep as a drawing point. Tea bags and peanut shells aren't going to fully biodegrade in a week, asswipe. Do you think the person who takes the place after you exit wants to deal with your filth?

And then, of course.....There's the toothpaste spit. At the edge of every campsite, lies almost a little white picket fence-like border. I remember the first time I camped with adults and saw someone brush their teeth and spit at camp's edge. It was in JTree, and I nearly threw up. Right there in the desert bushes. (The tooshpaste spit, I mean.) It doesn't rain much in San Bernadino county, and when it does it's not enough to wash away the residue. That toothspaste scree has a half-life of....I dunno? A year, you think?

Here's a tip, and I hope you're not offended if you're a spitter - Use whatever receptacle you will have for camp trash as a spitoon. Brush your teeth and spit into the little bag. Starting with an economic amount of paste, rather than Super-Sizing it, also reduces the factor.

I could go on...but I already have gone on long enough. I have enough tent stakes folks, and I try to limit what trash I make when I camp. Don't need no more pins, and I don't like cleaning up your crap!

Thanksgiving in July?

Well, I've heard of Christmas in July, so who's to say no? This slug sure seemed to be enjoying his feast of Merrick's Thanksgiving Day dog food.... I had just fed my dog Teddy, and set the can down to take for recycling. Not a few minutes later, this guy was inching his way into the can.

(By the way - I highly recommend Merrick, dog foods - take a look at their site and see for yourself.)

Introducing Teddy the Wonderhound!

I can't believe I never posted his picture in this blog before.... Well, here he is.

He's called a Wonderhound, because everyone "wonders" what breed he is. Everyone loves Teddy, and he is famous at the Gunks as a great example of a crag dog.

Light Show

Camped at Slime this last weekend, I awoke to this little tableau, captured on a corner of my tent wall, backlit by the morning's sunrise.

Overheard in JTree

My campsite was the one under Toe Jam, which is probably the route that is most widely known by those who have gone, or are planning to go, to Jtree at least once in their lives. It is like the 42nd Street of the Tree - stand around there long enough and you'll meet every climber in the world.....

So, I'm in camp a little early one day and making some dinner. A team is on the route; boyfriend/girlfriend, and it's clear that the second is new to climbing. She is doing fine though, and her partners beta....errrr, I mean encouragement, though probably helpful, is not necessary. She sends the route. Happiness ensues and they rap off, walking through the middle of my camp.

As they come within hearing distance, the guy makes a comment. He pauses and points south, to a small(er) boulder(in Jtree, one could say that most of the formations are really just big boulders, judging by the amount of 4th-classiness that goes on in the place).

He tells his girl, with authority(clearly he's been to Jtree before...at least once or twice), "....and that's the Caveman problem."

She looks over, nods appreciatively, and asks.... "So - what's the problem with it?"

Jtree, April 2004

I was procrastinating on making another entry, because my anal-retentive thinking was that I needed to pick up exactly where I left off. Well, that's not going to happen.

Suffice it to say, stuff has happened since my first foray into climbing that I made in the February entries and today. Maybe someday, I'll write it down. But for now, I'm going to post a bunch of foliage and fauna photos that I and Curt shot while we were out in Joshua Tree this April.


That's Curt

That's me