Pacific Crest Trail - Day 100

Kristin and I were walking down the produce aisle of the Montauk IGA last summer and saw a guy throw an avocado back into a basket and hmmpf “Dinosaur eggs”.

Dinosaur eggs.

I‘ve been reading a lot of David Foster Wallace essays lately. It’s interesting how I’m acutely aware that “I was in Montauk last summer” can be interpreted as anything between interesting and oh my god shut up you vapid douchebag.

Flowers. All of them.

This little cloud was just hanging out being all cool and gorgeous by him/herself not really giving a fuck.

Capital A dorbs.

The last time I saw this flag over Ebbetts Pass was heading towards a small Fourth of July gathering near Ahwahnee with my older brother and good friend Jason.

Cicadas have been out en force. I have a story about the last time I was this close to a cicada that I’ll save for another day.

Fluffy puff air puffed sugar delights. Surely nothing will accumulate from this peaceful arrangement.

Fucking dinosaur eggs.

Or alternatively, a high Sierra accumulation ala Katamari Damacy.

This is fine Kristin.

We walked until drizzle then pitched the tent for what turned into a ferocious thunderstorm.