The service lady in the white jeep with the flashing lights pulled up slowly as I approached, a look of tired resignation on her face as she rolled down the wet window. Apparently she was expecting attitude and had had her fill already.

“Parks closing, please turn around and leave now.”

I smiled, “sounds good.”

If my happy compliance surprised her it didn’t show. The park closing at 6pm on Sundays was news to me, but also music to my ears. One of the two parking spaces on the outside of the gate was open and that was all I needed.

In my recent experience the peak is a madhouse on stormy evenings, but the limited parking outside the gate and the half-mile rainy uphill walk gave me sunny expectations of being left alone; the loud-ass car stereos cruisers and running/screaming/crying children having been locked out by the lovely annoyed lady in the white Jeep.

I did have to leave most of my crap behind, as I was now walking, but I think it turned out okay.

-Alex who occasionally likes to be left alone.

I know.

It’s been four days.

But it has been a potentially good looking four days, and I have little to show for it besides a dead truck battery, a indifferent millipede encounter, an angry rattlesnake encounter, and an absurdly intricate selfie (see above).

But there is always something on the horizon, even if that horizon is annoyingly far away and refuses to give you what you want.

Does this map look good?

I haven’t the slightest clue.

-Alex who thinks snakes should be happier.