“Beer Me Doggy”

I may have been in the forest to long when I find myself saying,
“Beer me!” To my dog. Yes, well, eight days of camping and talking to almost no one but my dog can do that to a girl.
It’s probably going to be a fantastic sunset tonight because fire, yea. There appears to be a forest fire somewhere nearby. Luckily it’s to the north and not to the south where we are heading tomorrow.
Tomorrows adventure lies in Bishop Pass, which we will hopefully conquer. ( We had to poop out of this hike last fall as the fire across the range in King’s Canyon made the whole Lake Sabrina area a terrible smoky mess. I know, the irony that there is another fire today)
My iPhone alarm is set for six a.m. I am hoping to have camp broke down, tent packed in the back of my Subaru by 6:30 than be driving up the super steep highway to glorious (at least in the autumn, perhaps not in the winter at 9,000 feet) Aspendell before seven.
Aspendell is the most magical small town in the fall.
It’s a town of about 500

people just before you drive into gorgeous Lake Sabrina ( It rhymes with a certain part of a woman’s anatomy; at least that’s what the locals tell me.) The actual town consists of locals houses of course, some cabins, a restaurant that I’ve heard has amazing pie and about a million glorious Aspen trees.

Tomorrow I can’t wait to be in Aspendell and conquer Bishop’s Pass out of South Lake a new hike to me and the little doggy.
For tonight the meat bees have led me to drink. Perhaps if I have a few cocktails I can forget there are twenty bees taking over my campsite, dying to share my little gassy doggy’s dinner.
That’s what I was thinking anyways cocktail in hand than I decided to take the little mutt for a walk through camp and see if anyone had any info on the fire. I had driven down to almost Tom’s Place earlier in order to text my love ( I missed his sexy face after eight days on the road! And here at Rock Creek it’s gorgeous but a black hole of cell reception)
Two minutes into our walk through camp I became the fire police,
“Where’s the fire?”
“There’s a fire?”
“What, what?!!”
Honestly are all you people from Los Angeles? Did you think the brown clouds were natural?! Brown is not a natural color for a cloud!
I finally tracked down the camp ground host, found out the fire was at Lake Crowley far to the north. I desperately needed a refill of lemonade and vodka at this point and made our way back to our campsite feeling exhausted after talking to nearly every camper in this camp site!

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