"What the hell is Beaver Cheese?"
If we were still at sea level maybe his comment about Gouda cheese would have been easier to digest.
But we are at over nine thousand feet.
Almost on top of a freaking mountain.
Also that seems highly unsafe; have you seen their teeth?
I don't think a beaver would enjoy being milked.
This was just one of many conversation that took place on the treacherous hike up San Gorgonio.
It was one of the few conversations that did not begin with
"Good god Amber, what did you eat?!"
"What happened to fresh mountain air!?"
So I just thought I would share it.
Just one more instance of me not being able to hear, well pretty much ever.
Maybe I could not hear over my constant wheezing as we raced up switch backs, me setting a murderous pace as we traversed over mountain sides and up ridge lines. I wanted to summit by noon, I'd read online that a summit can be made in four and a half hours.