My favorite memories are of dad's jaunts into the desert or the Sierras. Lone Pine was my favorite town, and Whitney my favorite peak.
We rented a small motorboat once, back in the early sixties, on a lake up there called "South Lake",,where there was a place called "Parcher's Camp",,where you could rent cabins. Our dog got a tick, and so did my sister. I really enjoyed motoring across the lake, all the way to the far end, and back.
I never made it all the way up Whitney,,not even close. Altitude sickness usually took too much out of me or someone else in the circus. It spoiled the only father-son outing I ever went on with my dad. He drove us up to Whitney Portal one time,,just the two of us,,but I wimped out and he had to take us back down to town, to a motel, and home. We did like to visit the Alabama Hills,,and he'd tell us about all the cowboy movies that were shot there,,
I still think I've got to get out of town before long, and re-visit the desert at least, if not take a hike up Whitney. I think I could do it, if I gauge my ability. I have strong enough legs, and a keen sense of adventure,,but in terms of my head, and altitude, and my willingness to suffer through nausea,,I'm a bit of a wuss. I'd rather just go to Bishop and eat cinnamon rolls and drink coffee, and look at the scenery. But you miss a lot that way.
Probably one of the things I'm ashamed of the most in life is that I have all of these wonderful memories of when I was a kid, and the desert, and the mountains,,and I haven't hardly EVER taken my own family there, but just a few fleeting times, for a quick look and turn around. I remember the last time we went,,I think Hale-Bopp or some other comet was circling around overhead, and we were on 395, and stopped at night, in the DARK,,and boy does it get DARK in the desert. But the sky,,,WoW,,,