Might not be a General Motors sized wild place, but don't let it's shrimpy size fool you. It's HUGH on views and oh yeah hunters.
What heinous things have the brown-eyed Bambi's done to illicit such a response from these rifle-toting, camouflage wearing dudes?
I dunno. I'm just glad I was wearing bright yellow on the trail.
I summited the 11,000 (and spare change) foot peak, despite the elevation gain of two Empire State Buildings within a scant 1.5 miles. Once on top, I was gazing out onto the Great Basin. An area comprising 186,000 square miles within 5 states. If you spill a beer here, it's not going to the Atlantic or the Pacific Ocean. It's staying put. There are no water outlets in this sink. (So don't spill your beer. There are sober people in Africa anyway).
I'm now in Great Basin National Park in Nevada. I've included a photo of "home" in beautiful downtown Baker for the next two days. Do I know how to pick 'em?
Goodnight and don't spill your beer,
PS. An alert reader informed me of the invasive questions asked if you want to leave a comment on my blog. Things like, "what is your favorite color?" And worse, "have you ever called in sick to work and weren't?". Stuff like that.
So...feel free to just comment to the source.
If the comments are of a critical nature, I can take it. Sniff. Sniff.
I'm waiting for one such as, "Do you own a shirt with sleeves?"