Originally, we were hiking Williamson Valley trailhead, but the mud there cakes on your shoes until you resemble an Eskimo wearing snowshoes. We switched to Constellation, which has much sandier soil.
Of course, Chris cracked himself up by posting this before we started. This is the easiest of the hikes we do.
Chris took over the lead again, and once again I found myself 40 paces behind. This, combined with little sleep and no food, made me whiny. After all, I do have s broken hand...
And the he found it.
Then I found more pieces.
My generous trove, right before I threw it in the pile.
A Constellation aircraft had crashed here 59 years before; the rain had brought pieces to the surface. As plane fanatics, we were both pretty geeked about our finds. As per tradition, we tossed them in the designated pile of wreckage, delighted we had added to the stash.
That set the tone for the day, and I smiled through the rest of it, with the exception of a moment of silence at 4:42pm.
My day finished up with friends, and all is right with the world.
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