Bishopin' for Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving for me has never been about family since my parents honestly doesn't do anything except stir fry some turkey (and don't knock it until you've tried it). There was one year when my Mom was obsessed with cranberry sauce, but that was about it. So when my co-worker Tristan floated the idea of going to Bishop, I was more than excited to check something off my bucket list. I looped in Erik and on the evening before Thanksgiving, we were headed east to loop around Yosemite. 

After an attempt to steal candy cane ornaments from a new waitress at a diner, we roll into the Pit in the middle of the night. Everything is full and it has never been more frustrating to see little slips of paper tacked onto everything. We fortunately find a campsite nearby for $10/night (as opposed to $2/night at the Pit) and go straight to bed.

 Waking up to a crisp morning, we set off for the Buttermilks, where the views are just ridiculous. The first picture above is what we were surrounded by the entire day. The climbing here is gorgeous, but since it's outdoors, I have trouble even sending V1 routes. But of course, I had to at least throw myself at the Iron Man Traverse (V4) a few times, even if it's just for sweet photos of the crazy line that cuts across the rock. We learned over and over that pointy rocks are pointy, and by the end of the day, my hands are muttering, "I hate you. I hate you so much."

Nights are nippy and it's excellent that we're armed with fire, layers, and beer. I don't care that I look like a smurf most of the time because hats keep the thinking bits warm.

Day Two of climbing, we head off to the Happys where Erik and I cruise through maybe a dozen V0 and V1 routes. Somehow the downclimbs freak me out way more than the climbing itself. By the end of the day, we were as cold as this puppy, so we headed back to camp to grab towels for Wild Willy's hot springs, just outside the city of Mammoth Lakes.

The walk to the hot springs itself was gorgeous, all ghostly white wood and pink sunset. All the secret cuts and little bruises from climbing just fade into the water somehow, and we spend our time eating little mandarin oranges and watching the stars come out. After drying off, we drive over to Mammoth Lake and pick up a decent haul of Indian food from Cafe 203 a hotel restaurant that serves Indian/Italian and Rogue beers (Shakespeare Oatmeal Stout!).

Last climbing day was spent in the Sads, which is allegedly named because the rocks emanate a bad juju or it's simply because the canyon is much narrower and gets dark fast. Lots of easy highball routes, and definitely when I'm clambering up China Doll (V0), I'm thinking about how no spotter can really do a thing if you fall.

After some shots of us glaring at the Sads one last time, we load up the car to head back to San Francisco. Of course, we pick the perfect time to go by Mono Lake, so we pulled into the parking lot, and ran to the shore with our cameras so we wouldn't miss the purples and the pinks. Never mind the mud and the feces everywhere, and I think I'm still picking bits of it off my running shoes.