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August 12-14, 2005. Eastern Washington.

Hiking trip to the northeast Cascades. Hot, dry. My friend, also a San Diegan, said it was just like Julian in summer. Except there aren't any rattlers.

The cabin we rented has a grass airstrip for a neighbor. We hiked to 7400 feet, then to 7500 feet the next day. The only way I could handle the heart-attack-inspiring-one-lane-gravel-roads-with-drops-to-oblivion was by sticking my camera out the window and snapping away. We barbecued halibut and salmon and listened to Green Day through a boombox with only one working speaker. It was beautiful and over with far too soon.

Next day: cars, shuttles, airports, taxis, hotels. Straight to Dallas for work. Blecch.

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