We collected a bunch of trash while obliterating camp sites at Woodchuck Lake in July. On Friday I dragged Noam, Juliet, Lukka, and Tioga up to Wishon to pick up the trash cache on Saturday. Sorry for the shameless butt shot, but here is Tioga, loaded with 94 pounds of trash:
We started referring to Zach-the-intern as "Mr. T" due to his passion for transplanting things into the middle of the obliterated fire rings. Mr. T lovingly attending to his plants:
I guess it got a little hot. Here are the same plants, a few weeks later. Sad!
Juliet stopping for a drink at Woodchuck Creek on the way back to Wishon with the trash:
Noam, Lukka, and Tioga, faithfully cleaning up the wilderness:
This is how the three equids felt on Sunday about the 18 mile round trip up steep, rocky trails to Woodchuck Lake:
Sunday was an eventful day at Wishon. Gary, who feeds the mules when Micki is out in the backcountry, came racing down to my cabin to make sure I wasn't killed by a baby bear that his dog treed right by the fire pit. About an hour later, a HUGE dead tree toppled over into the river canyon, right in front of me. Sunday afternoon, after Noam left to drive back to the bay area, I sat on the rock by Wishon and watched this weather blow in over the reservoir:
We started referring to Zach-the-intern as "Mr. T" due to his passion for transplanting things into the middle of the obliterated fire rings. Mr. T lovingly attending to his plants:
I guess it got a little hot. Here are the same plants, a few weeks later. Sad!
Juliet stopping for a drink at Woodchuck Creek on the way back to Wishon with the trash:
Noam, Lukka, and Tioga, faithfully cleaning up the wilderness:
This is how the three equids felt on Sunday about the 18 mile round trip up steep, rocky trails to Woodchuck Lake:
Sunday was an eventful day at Wishon. Gary, who feeds the mules when Micki is out in the backcountry, came racing down to my cabin to make sure I wasn't killed by a baby bear that his dog treed right by the fire pit. About an hour later, a HUGE dead tree toppled over into the river canyon, right in front of me. Sunday afternoon, after Noam left to drive back to the bay area, I sat on the rock by Wishon and watched this weather blow in over the reservoir:
lazy horsies. ZOOOO cute!
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