i know my tea

[rone]

I could look it up, but i'd bet a buck that Yosemite is a Native American word that means "squirrel".  The little bastards were everywhere, and they plot.  Oh, are they plotting.  The ones atop Vernal Fall tried to mug The Boy and steal his lunch, and they were aided in this endeavor by their wasp henchbugs.  They knew we'd come without the dogs... stinkin' rodent punks.

While we were at the top, we decided to dip our toes in the river to wash away the sweat and soreness of the hike.  I took my shoes and socks off, hopped over some rocks, and stepped on gum.  Some freshly chewed motherfucking gum that some jerkoff didn't even have the minimal courtesy to attach to the bottom of the rock.  Maybe the squirrels are to blame for that, too.

Did i mention the crows?  Huge fuckin' crows.  Their squawking was loud and at a lower register than you'd expect.  And they'd occasionally make weird noises halfway between a cluck and a gurgle in groups of 8 or 10.  And there was the bear that snuck behind a family to invade their SUV via its open tailgate (LOL BACK DOOR BEAR LOL).  After it was chased off, it charged through the neighboring campsite towards ours before veering off towards no-campers land.

All male park rangers have a standard issue beard.  I bought a fudgesicle.  Never, ever buy any of the Casa de Fruta wine, for it is plonk.  I'd rather drink Two-Buck Chuck.  I had fun but i'm glad i'm home.  The end.