Everyone is always shocked when I admit I've never been to Bishop. You would think the RRS has a memory like Dory, the blue tang from Finding Nemo, given all the times he is shocked to find out I've never been to Bishop. Shocked! It's only after the 3rd hour of conversation about climbs in Bishop that he notices I'm bored. I think one day he is going to be incredibly attentive as a caretaker. Help us all if I ever fall ill.
We took the weekend after his midterm to go to Bishop and wrangled his friend G, and his girlfriend L, and their dog Penny in a car. I had a great time not roughing it in a hotel. Don't get me wrong, nature is great and all, but I've always preferred civilization. I've been camping before and I remain skeptical of the novelties of voluntarily ceding the modern conveniences of plumbing.
I messed around on some baby warm-up stuff. And then we were off to grade chase. A has been shooting for a V6 at Bishop, or V7/V8 anywhere else so he could start breaking in his new solutions. So let's face it, this trip to Bishop would really be about his relentless lust for locking in a V6 and thusly- his solutions. He got his 6, the pictured top out is French Press - super balancey and crimpy. And this time, there were also more girls than just me. The second day, they brought me to a bakery, which was marvelous. I would have been happy had they left me there all day. Not all dreams can come true.
There is just as much praise for the food we devoured as the company we kept as the rocks we climbed at Bishop. Fun, food, and friends - essentials of life. Small town America is always fascinating to me, but I know I would never thrive there. At this rate, it's once every 3 years. So look out, Bishop, me and my kid shoes are coming for you! I'm sure you're shaking in your boots.
sneakily afoot,
jt
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