We had a good walk out on the ridge today. A couple of t-storms rolled through to keep things relatively cool and the wildflowers were abundant. At one point, EDO asked me whether we would see bristlecones and I said "no." But, we kept walking and found a path that took us further along the ridge than I had been before. At the top of the last hill, there it was: A bristlecone grove.
The solstice was yesterday, so it is now officially summer. Right on time we had our first big storm. VSO and I were out walking in Second Water as the thunder rumbled. It was drizzling pleasantly, but when we reached the confluence the rain started and it was time to turn around. Fortunately, we reached the truck before the worst of the hail: That would have been a pummeling.
The storm moved west from our location until it reached the foothills overlooking town. There it dropped six tenths of an inch in less than an hour. It had mostly subsided by the time we got back, but the streets were still flowing. This poor young lady was just coming out to try moving her car. I didn't think it would start given how high up the grill the water had flowed, but she was able drive it out of there.
The pair of feds among us had a holiday yesterday. We decided to meet up to explore two or three areas on the boundary between the MLS and the Fishlake. In the event, we reached just one of them. On our way to the second, we got near the pass above Emerald Lake on Skyline Drive before we ran into this snowbank (above). EDO started digging (and we probably could have cleared it) but it would have used up most of the rest of the afternoon, so we decided to back down. Before leaving though, EDO noticed another Chev about 300 feet below us on the slope. We slithered down to have a look. It has probably been their for 20 years or more. What we decided was that "probably these dumb shits were trying to do what we've been trying to do:" Drive over a snow bank on a narrow road above an 800-foot drop.
Last week I noted that we couldn't get the saw started. And we didn't simply pull it once or twice: It was more like two or three hundred times—so much it wore the skin off my finger. Plus we removed the air filter and the spark plug to make sure they were clean. The saw wouldn't even pop. So, we returned it to the truck. EDO suggested that I try a service kit: It comes with a spark plug, fuel filter, and air filter. And, now that we have Ace Hardware in town, Stihl parts are readily available. So, I followed her advice. That was it! It was either the spark plug or the fuel filter, although given that the latter was clean and the former was dirty, it was probably the plug.
I went out to look at some trees yesterday. EDO wasn't feeling well—I caught her napping in the early afternoon—but she came with me anyway. Once again, she carried the saw. Unfortunately, we couldn't get it started, so she carried it back to the truck. Instead, she ran the caliper (above) and the increment borer (below). It let me stand around, relaxing in the shade.
With all three of us working outdoors (at least part of the time) or traveling back and forth across central Utah, the group text often contains an image of the job site or camp—unless there is no cell service and then we have to wait.
At top is one I made this week on the Manti-La Sal. In the middle is one by EDO from her job on the Fishlake. At bottom is one from VSO's archaeology project in the San Rafael Swell. As my reader knows, I mostly prefer the analog life, but this ability to share instant images from places like these is pretty nice.
