SPF 50

I still function. The last month was spent in Dillon, Montana attending our summer field camp. This typically is the last step for undergraduates before they get their B.S. in Geology.

Our schedule was five days on, one day off. Every day had an early start, a full day spent hiking across ridges, and a long evening of inking, coloring, writing, erasing, inking, erasing, and finally sleep.


It was a little intense but the perks were nice.


The wildlife was pretty great and the birds alone made the whole thing worthwhile--mountain bluebirds, tanagers, wrens, sandhill cranes, eagles, grouse, you-name-it. A group of students was followed by a friendly billygoat for over four hours; it was so lonely it barged through two barbed-wire fences as they tried to ditch it. This fella wasn't too bothered by me.

This one was, however.
In total I ran across three grumpy rattlers. The second encounter resulted in about 4000 gallons of adrenaline getting dumped in to my bloodstream. We also had ticks, which perturbed one of the Irish students so much that he wore a Hartz collar around his ankle for two weeks.


The weather sucked--as in worst-in-over-twenty-five-years sucked--but after suffering through the icy Pacific shitstorm that was Spring Break, we were pretty well prepared.


One super huge highlight was heading off to a well-preserved ghost town. The place was unbelievably cool.


Another super sweet highlight was heading off to a cave with L.L. and Chelss. It was snowing, we were hungover, the entry was vertical and icy, and it was my first time in a harness. I also left my camera in the cave. But everything went pretty well.
L.L. retrieved my camera a week later on his birthday. I'm still trying to figure out how to repay him the favor.


I got home yesterday right as a heavy snowfall warning was posted. It's June.


Here is my new address for those of you keeping track:

502 S. 6th St E.

I move in on the 17th.