“Go eat a fish ass hole!” Little did I know the furry masked bandit I was yelling at in the camp at three a.m. was the least of our problems as I wrestled the bag of tortilla chips away from him and headed back to my tent that had been slight warm ten …
I woke up at five a.m. to rain drops on the Coleman tent. Fishing was postponed til six. We slept in. At six it started pouring down fat Sierra rain drops. No fishing this August morning for us. We had a hike planned in Yosemite Valley and had to make a simple bacony breakfast …