Mr B has two and a half minor quirks, but otherwise is Mr Super Easy for travelling. And he puts up with me very graciously, so we had yet another fine week in the California wilds. Great weather, wide spaces, we cook our own food on the grill, simple but comfy accomodations. I am always awed by the staggering engineering achievements of our ancestors, who built civilization for us, so that we can comfortably enjoy nature without worrying that it will kill us: the road systems in rural California are quite the wonder. 1200 miles in 8 days.
And as for the National Parks, when I become Consul of the PostAmerican Commonwealth, I will certainly shut down the Departments of Education, Housing and Urban Development, Commerce and the EPA. But I will fund the National Parks for as much as they want. Really wonderful places, which I discovered --thanks to Mr B-- far too late in life. My new knee brace and trekking poles made a big difference, so hiking was challenging but always fun.
Cooney Lake, at 10,200 feet
Although Ken Burns, the mop-headed documentarian, may have exaggerated when naming his series on them America's Best Idea, it was certainly one of the best.
And with the exception of Lassen Volcanic Park, which was full of kids from summer camps, the easternmost counties from Mono to Plumas are delightfully free of vibrant diversity. Caucasianity reigns, with the consequent ease and friendliness that homogeneity engenders.
Ranting resumes tomorrow!