11/29: We accidentally forgot to write for all of fall.

...but we're back! 

HI EVERYBODY(especially Uncle Kevin and Great Uncle Mike)! Let me get you caught up on what's happened over the past 3 months:

The end of summer in the Eastern Sierra is perfect and warm. There are no mosquitoes. You sleep without a tent in sagebrush flats that usually look something like this: 

Looking south toward Crowley, September.  

There are artifacts everywhere, boulders everywhere, good people everywhere. The music at the Whoa Nellie is amazing, it's cool enough to climb at the Buttermilks, you eat Mono Bars for every meal and drink beers every night. Shooting stars all over the place. Mattie and I were really, really gross after 12 weeks of tent-living. 

The most perfect quartzite mano (thanks John the Geologist!). And a little tardifact sitting on top. 

Sid turned 7 (holy christ) and we had a face-painting bowling insanity party with a cake and Thai food. Scott became a tiger. 

Anni making Scott a tigah. She's a bunny. 

Back at Parker Lake after the crazy birthday weekend, my Sierra foster parents and I watched a giant and TOTALLY MAJESTIC bald eagle snacking on something on the lake shore. We waited for a half hour until he floated off and effortlessly made his way to his snag home on the other side of the lake. 

Kings of Parker Lake. 

Our saviors, the Ljungs, gave us a place to sleep at the Mono City Villa when, after 12 weeks in the dirt, we really just wanted a bed and a shower. The last week and a half of our time in the mountains was filled with soccer games, artifact hunts, petroglyph adventures, music, delicious food, a nice big bed with a view of the Sherwins, bouldering, the Virginia Lakes basin, and one last weekend sleeping in our summer home campsite at the edge of Lee Vining Creek. 

I miss you mountain family. 

As has become tradition, on my last day in the mountains we hiked up and over Summit Pass to the Laughing Place lookout above Burro Lake and Lundy Canyon. This year was smokey, but still the best. It's also become tradition for me to cry a little as I leave the saddle and head back down the scree toward the trail and then the car. It feels like the beginning of going home (or leaving home). 

The Summit Pass Laughing Place.

Then I came back (always the most depressing day of the year). 

And then I started work.

And now I work, and work, and work, and work and work. Teaching is the greatest, but the hours for coursework prep are insane. I have an amazing job. 

But all I do is work. 

As soon as I leave the mountains, I crave the mountains. I love our little cabin in Los Padres, but the Santa Barbara hills just don't cut it for long - I start going crazy without real mountains and granite and being up high. So last weekend I met Greg on the east side (Convict Lake) for a much needed quick trip to the Sierras. Mattie and I worked triple-time during the week to get a little ahead with schoolwork, then left before sunrise Thursday and got to the sweet little winter cabin by noon. Greg got there a half hour later -- just before the snow really started dumping. 

The weekend was kind of like this: walk, freeze, hot chocolate, food, walk, freeze, hot chocolate, food, food, hot springs (hot then total freeze), artifact hunting, artifact hunting, food, movie, walk, watch the snow fall, walk, food, artifacts, hot chocolate. There was a little work thrown in, but just a little (Sunday night was rough). 

The cabin at Convict and Greg looking like a total creep neighbor. 

Winter at Convict Lake. In a hat handmade by the Yeti herself.

Me and Mattie Dog at the lake. 

Greg and Milo, finding artifacts with Morrison in the background. 

Mattie in front of the Whites. 

Just a couple of morons freezing their brains out.
And looking happy about it, because we're in the mountains. 

Milo checking out the lake on an early (FREEZING) morning walk. Convict. 

We really do love each other. You may not think so from the look on her face in these pictures. 

I came back (...that heartbreaking drive out of the mountains...) and felt like I could actually make it through the quarter.

After a great Thanksgiving with family, we're heading back to Santa Barbara tonight and prepping for the last week of classes. The LAST WEEK of classes. I can't believe it's been 3 months since we left the mountains this summer. Our Paradise Road cabin is perfect, but I can't help thinking that it's less than 7 months now until we pack up the truck again and head north on the 395 for another summer.

Until then, I'll try to keep you guys posted on our usual idiocy and upcoming December ski trips in Tahoe and UTAH!!!

Love from Grandma and Grandpa's in Santa Monica,

Allison and Mattie the Winter Dog


PS:

Mattie perfectly explains how we both feel when we get back to the mountains.