Lulu. Breakfast.

A proud and mischevious huntress.

My bounty.

Bolinas Lagoon, by myself on my bike.

On the other side waited a friend, a heaping plate of caramelized sweet potatoes, and egg-thieving raccoons.

Surveying the surf. It was cold.

RMHett, being a boss back in September.

Improvising a microwaved dinner in the Plattsburgh, NY Econolodge.

Salvation! Found friends at Fledging Crow Farm. Harvested and processed vegetables, played bingo afterwards. It was one of those cup-overflowing afternoons.

Great washstation setup.

Rando Adirondack hikers. Nice bros that smoked me out not pictured.

En route to a morning surf with Sean!

From within the belly of the Space Ace.

Paul and mom prepare for a Christmas dinner.

Oh yes. Here’s to a new year.

The red badge of courage.

Miscreants – all got ticketed for helmetless riding.

Occupy caltrain

We collectively did over 90 pullups (that’s Tim doing the first 50).

Now this life-as-a-play I wouldn’t mind living for the rest of my days.

The daily snow-melt baptismal was met with much rejoicing.

Avalanche pass – first encounter with the foxtail pine, first sighting of the range beyond.

Because of this season’s longer-lived snowpack, all the flowers were blooming at once. I thought my head was going to explode every time I walked through a meadow.

The Kahweahs!

At Colby pass I met a seasoned couple who cross-country around this section of the sierras every summer. For the rest of the day we cracked jokes, swam, and traded stories. You can spend your whole life out there and still not bag all the peaks, nor swim in all the lakes.

An unnamed pass out of cloud canyon, where I spent the second half of my trip. Not pictured is the rad CCC crew I stayed and worked with… what a family!

Descending to Lion lake, around 11,000′.

My gracious host.

On my way out, I passed Valhalla and my spirit got stuck.

Mindaugis lent me some gear for this trip and is one of the reasons I keep running for the mountains.

And, to palliate the withdrawal symptoms, M+D+I went out for dim sum. THE END

all below by Yelena.

just a bit of innocent fun by the river.

Devi, our guide.

Part of the waste paper sorting process. Here they remove cardboard for hours on end.

Standing in front of bales of #1 plastic – one of two varieties that can be recycled into a container again. (Other numbers get downcycled – to carpets, or fleece, for example).

Ever notice how most every-day household items made of plastic say, “made in China”? They have a robust recycling industry there. Plants range from state-of-the-art to wholly unregulated.

Each bale of aluminum goes for about $2000-$3000, depending on the market.

We watched this tractor shovel vast piles of malodorous refuse back and forth from the chute whence it dropped.

The owner of this facility saves produce that groceries label as sub-par from being dumped. Instead, it feeds his collection of pigs, chickens, turkeys, and peacocks (as well as a healthy population of freeloading rats).

Pea-hen!

We take our job very seriously.

One creature to another.

The next morning we got up at 5am, repacked for the fourth time in 24 hours, ate some toast, and made our way to the rim. It was 13ºF. About an hour later, here we were, chipper as all get-out.

This is Jim – the reason we all went on the trip. He lives for the canyon, and this being his 43rd trip, had many stories to tell of adventures and misadventures. (At this moment, shaky muscles were meeting cold spring-melt water … 40 lb packs and a 5,000 ft descent left us creaky for days! Known as one of the hottest and generally most brutal, Tanner trail is apparently not the one to take as a first timer, but Jim had faith in us.)

This place is good at making you realize your size and worth relative to the universe.

Fording the Little Colorado. A few miles north lie the salt springs, a sacred place of origin for the Hopi people.

On the way back from our fourteen mile all-day journey. This was after walking a section of trail that wound right at the edge of a precipice, where a misstep would have sent any of us careening into the bright blue waters below.

Jubilation!

One night we slept in a side canyon… the moon flooded this vase-like space with light, and crickets and scorpions danced their invisible dance all around us.

The last night by the river, we were illuminated by a nearly full moon. Magic!

My faithful steed.