The pictures on the right tell a story about my trip to Bishop that I took around late October, 2002. The bean counters at work were bugging me about my accumulated vacation time, so I took off and went for a drive. The ultimate goal was to try some rock climbing in Bishop, mecca for all things boulders.

Along the way I encountered quite a few interesting things, one of them being the most impressive McDonald's play-place I have ever seen. I consider myself a connaisseur of playplaces, having once been in the business (playground enforcement at Crash Crawley's), and I must admit this particular play-place was impressive, indeed.

Skipping a bunch of stuff, I eventually ended up in Bishop and went off to find the boulders. After enduring the most God-awful of roads, I ended up at the Happys. Refer to photograph 3 for "Happys." Being in the habit of fawning over my car, I also took a few pictures of it. One might comment on the juxtaposition of the precision and symmetry of Man's creations against the wild disorder of nature. I won't.

On my third day of climbing I went to the Buttermilks, which are somewhat different than the Happys. Shown here is a picture of the Peabody boulders. All I can say about these are holy Jesus Christ, I hope you guys have fun climbing these and then falling and having your legs liquify from the impact and then having your arms break from the impact with your leg puddles. I think I got about 1/200 of the way up these things before I started getting dizzy from heights and had to come back down to take a nap and recuperate.

So after too much climbing my hands wouldn't take it anymore, so I headed out to the coast. On the way I was lucky enough to run into an In-N-Out Burger. Yes, the mythical burger joint of all burger joints. In reference to this chain, I once heard a very wise man say "they make good burgers, Walter." I was finally in a position to personally verify that statement, and it is indeed true. They make good burgers, Walter.

Finally at the Coast I passed through San Francisco, even going so far as to drive through the "Soma" district which must make me cool because I hear everybody cool hangs out in "Soma." Anyway, after that I stumbled upon Highway 1, which Henry told me I must drive. I did, and it was good. Very good. Along the way I stopped at Muir beach, pictured here. My feet also visited Muir beach, pictured here. After that more driving on twisting twisting roads, of course always observing posted speed limits (yes, literally observing). Along the way I had a fabulous steak sandwich, and even ate the onions in it which should impress my girlfriend, as she doesn't think I eat enough onions.

There is little of note after this point. Upon arriving in Oregon I felt kind of bored and so didn't visit the coast. Instead I drove late into the night, right butt cheek and knee screaming in discomfort at the sport seats most decidedly NOT designed for long distance touring. But I arrived home, my butt cheek recovered, and I bought a really big box of Oreos. Mmmm, Oreos.