Chipmunk Thief

At the Flagstaff, Arizona Arboretum:  

Me:  Hey chipmunk, are you stealing from the poor little hummingbirds?

 

Hummingbird:  We're just sharing. It's all good.  

Humphreys Peak, Arizona--the second time

Well, for about fifteen minutes on Monday, I was the highest person in Arizona!  This is Humphreys Peak, near Flagstaff, Arizona.  At 12,633 feet, it's the highest point in Arizona, and the views are spectacular.  

The hike is also quite achievable compared to some other peaks of this height.  The most common (and shorter) trail starts at the ski resort of Snowbowl, already at about 9200 feet, so you've only got about 3400 feet of gain over a trail less than five miles long (one way).  

Humphreys Peak at sunrise, from the trailhead

The first part consists of long switchbacks up through the forest, with the type of trees changing as you get higher, and the views getting more frequent and more impressive.  

Views from the trail (taken on the way back down)

Then you reach the saddle and...wow.  What views.  

The last part, above the tree-line, is really something.  The trail's rocky and sometimes a bit tricky to follow, the birds fly below you, and the 360-views are amazing.  

Looking back toward Agassiz peak from the trail near Humphreys Peak

For most hikers, this part takes a while because of the uneven terrain and the thin air (a mere 11,000 feet higher than I'm used to).  Be warned:  there are several false summits.  You think, "I'm almost there!" But you're not.  Keep on trekking.  It's worth it to stand on the peak. 

It wasn't as cold and windy as it sometimes is (my knit hat was comfy but not entirely necessary), so I stayed up there almost an hour, looking out over creation, reading the log books, eating my sandwich.  I had it all to myself for about fifteen minutes, which I think only happens if you're there early AND you're lucky (I started at 6:00 AM).  Then a nice couple came up and shared the peak with me, but they were considerate and quiet.  Then they left and I had it to myself again for a few minutes.  Fantastic.

Weather Warning:  in monsoon season, afternoon thunderstorms are very common and dangerous if you're caught up above the tree line.  But it's not just monsoon season.  Thunderstorms can brew up quickly other times of year.  If there's any chance of rain at all in the forecast, begin your hike early and head down off the peak by 11:00 AM so you can be back below the tree line by noon.  If there's any danger of lightning in the morning, stay below the treeline.

Timing:  If you're extremely fit, a fast and experienced hiker (or trail runner), and don't spend any time taking pictures, resting, watching wildlife, etc., and if you don't spend your breath talking much to your hiking companions, then you can make it to the top in 3 hours.  If you're used to high elevations, you might even be able to do it in three hours while also having enough air to make conversation.  But for most people, count on four hours or more to make it to the top.  Going down takes longer than you might expect.  Most hikers should probably count on three hours for the descent.  Take plenty of water and snacks.  And take time to enjoy it.  

Elevation:  if you're used to low elevations, try to spend the night before in Flagstaff.  Consider taking aspirin the night before and the morning of.  It helps with altitude sickness.  Avoid alcohol.  If you start feeling weird, slow down and be sure to drink water.  If you start feeling really weird, descend.               

Havasupai Gardens--a lush oasis

 I recently read a novel that takes place in the Grand Canyon, where the main character describes Havasupai Gardens (it was called Indian Garden then) as inaccurately named because there was little to no vegetation.  Um...

So, I took this picture in late spring, and it wouldn't be as green at other times of years, but even if you're used to lush places, you can't say this has no vegetation.  Especially considering what most people expect of the Canyon and compared to many other parts of the Canyon.  I don't think the author did any research.    

Breaking the Thermometer

You know how people joke that it's so hot the thermometers are breaking?  Well.  That LITERALLY happened last week in Phoenix.

One day we noticed that our thermometer outside had shot up past the 120F mark.  It wasn't near that hot.  In fact, we'd been having a "cool" spell with highs around 108-109 most days.   Anyway, it shot up...and never went back down.  Keep in mind that this claims to be an indoor-outdoor thermometer.  It was mounted in the shade, as all thermometers should be.  But the heat broke it.

This is a picture after it's been inside our air-conditioned house for 45 minutes.  Yep.  The heat broke our thermometer.    

 

Bear on the Mogollon Rim

So, I was backpacking a couple of weeks ago off a forest road on the Mogollon Rim, northeast of Payson, Arizona.  I set up camp and then went on a "safari," walking slowly and quietly along the dirt road, hoping to see deer or elk.  I hadn't gone far when I saw an animal!  He was near the edge of the road, half hidden in the vegetation.  I was excited for a moment until I realized it was just someone's big black dog.  But there was no person there.  And when I got a better view...it was no dog!  And there's only one other big black thing it could be.  A bear!  A BEAR!  

Now, I realize that in some places bears are super common and sightings are hardly even exciting anymore.  But despite all my camping and hiking in Arizona, I have NEVER seen a bear in the wild here.  I was far enough away that I wasn't really scared, just excited and wary.  I stood and watched him fuss around near the edge of the road.  Then he walked into the road, stopped, looked at me, wandered a few more steps, stopped, looked at me, and then sauntered off.

I was amazed.  But also...I was not very far from my camp.  A third of a mile, in fact.  So, the ONE time I see a bear up here is also the ONE time I'm camping completely alone and the ONE time I'm camping without a bear box or a vehicle to put my food in. I had a ratsack with a heavy duty supposedly smell-proof plastic bag inside, and it was hanging from a tree, but not really high enough to be safe from bears.  My system was more concerned with rodents. 

So I double-checked that there was NOTHING smelly at all in my tent, and then I spent the rest of the evening and night perking up every time I heard a sound.  "Bear?  Bear?"  But no, it was all good.

And the peace and quiet was beautiful.

Because I was backpacking and wanted to lighten the load, the only camera I had with me was my terrible tablet camera, so...my only pictures look like sasquatch hoax photos.  But here they are:

  

     

      

It Happened at Grand Canyon, by Todd R. Berger

I loved this, especially because when I read it, I was preparing for my third Grand Canyon hike, my first backpacking trip there. 

I really like books like this, with short chapters on different related subjects—in this case interesting events (not broad cultural/historical/geological overviews, but specific EVENTS) that took place at Grand Canyon.

A few chapters didn't hold my interest super well, especially the ones that got a little long on the politics or engineering, but other readers will really like those.  MOST of the chapters, however, were fascinating.  I already knew some of these stories, but even the ones I knew were told interestingly enough to keep my attention well. 

The book was well written, with an easy flow and none of the pretentiousness of some similar books.

My only real complaint was that it wasn't long enough.  I wanted more, more, more.

I would certainly read more by Todd R. Berger. 

4.5 stars

White Mountains, Arizona

The White Mountains, Arizona.  It was definitely the break I needed from the heat and lack of green.   

Fountain Park at Fountain Hills, Arizona

Cool statues at Fountain Park in Fountain Hills, Arizona:

And the famous fountain:

Cesar on Holiday

This is Cesar, from the Phoenix Public Library, going on a road trip with me to the White Mountains:

Meeting a bear in Show Low, Arizona:

Enjoying aspen and wildflowers at the West Mt. Baldy trailhead:

Admiring a distant rainstorm from Blue Vista on the Coronado Trail:

Making friends with a chipmunk at Big Lake:

Being careful not to fall over the Mogollon Rim at Military Sinkhole viewpoint:

What a great trip we had with Cesar!

My story, "A Learned Man," on the Just Chills podcast

One of my creepier tales, "A Learned Man," appears on a cool podcast today:  Just Chills.

You can listen to "A Learned Man" here or find it on Spotify, Apple podcasts, etc.  

This story was first published in Electric Spec and then Pseudopod.  It's based loosely on an El Salvadorian folktale I found in a book in a small-town library in El Salvador.  When they kicked me out for siesta, I sat in the square writing, and finished almost the entire first draft in one sitting, which is rare for me.  

Enjoy! 

Summer Reading Craft

I am not very artistic, but I enjoy simple crafty things. 

Crafty Chica did a video on the Maricopa County Reading Game's website and I followed along (with variations).  Very fun.  And I'm kind of proud of the results.  Check out Crafty Chica's website above for other cool ideas.

If you haven't already joined Maricopa County Reads, you can do it here (for free!):  https://maricopacountyreads.org.  Watch cool videos (like this one), do challenges, make your avatar, or just simply read and record your time reading.  Then win prizes!  Open to all ages.  

Rim Trail at the Grand Canyon

If you don't have time or desire to hike down into the Grand Canyon, or if you're there in summer and it's too hot to responsibly do such a thing, here's a great alternative:  the Rim trail.

The views are spectacular.

I recommend taking the Hermit's Rest shuttle, getting off at one of the stops, and hiking to another.  That way you get away from the crowds in Grand Canyon Village.  I walked from Monument Creek Vista past the Abyss and to Mohave Point and saw only about six other people.

It was so quiet that I could hear the whistling of the wings of some little swallow-like birds whizzing around.   Beautiful.    

WARNING:  The trail is level and physically untaxing, and most places it's only about a mile between shuttle stops, but there are a few sections that might be very scary if you have a fear of heights or if you're with little kids or daredevils.  In fact, there were a couple of short sections that were scarier to me than anything on the South Kaibab or Bright Angel trails.  So be careful.  Especially if you're taking selfies.

Enjoy this wonder of the world.    

  

My story, "Bones and Blooms," in Sonoran Horror

Check out my weird little story, "Bones and Blooms," in this anthology of horror set in our beautiful part of the desert:  Sonoran Horror.

 Check it out on Amazon here.  

   

Beware the Ravens

At Mather campground at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, they warn you never to leave food unattended because of the dreaded ravens.  They're big.  They're bold.  And they're smart.

Well...maybe not quite smart enough.

They spend a LOT of effort while we were gone, doing this to our box wrapped in a garbage bag.

All to get at the delicious...firewood...inside. ?!?  Yeah.  There was nothing in there but firewood.  No food.  Nothing smelling much like food.

All we can figure is that they have learned to associate plastic with food.  

So...if ever you go to Mather Campground, don't store anything in plastic and leave it unattended.  

Arizona: Land of Differences

On April 21, at the forested South Rim of the Grand Canyon, the forecast predicted overnight lows near freezing.  We were camping, and I was worried it would be an unpleasant night.  It didn't feel anywhere near that cold, but yes, it was chilly.

Elk at Mather campground

I got up at 3:45 AM so I could catch sunrise on the South Kaibab trail on my way down into the canyon.  By 6:00 AM, at Cedar Ridge, I'd taken off my jacket.  

South Kaibab Trail at Sunrise, above Cedar Ridge

April 22, midday:  At Bright Angel Campground, at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, about 4500 vertical feet down from where I'd camped the night before, it was rather warm--95 degrees Fahrenheit.  Most of us sat around in the shade, periodically wetting our feet or our clothes in the creek.  Others spent the heat at the beach, dipping themselves quickly in the super-cold waters of the Colorado River.  That night my tent was too hot, so I took off the rainfly and lay in shorts and bare feet on my air mattress, nothing covering me.  

Thank goodness for Bright Angel Creek, steps from my tent

April 23:  I did the Devil's Corkscrew (a rather steep and exposed section of switchbacks on the Bright Angel Trail) between 10:30 and 11:00 AM, and I rather wished I'd been there a little earlier, as it was plenty warm.  That night, watching the moon rise from the Tonto Plateau near Havasupai Gardens with new friends, a breeze came up and I eventually pulled on my jacket.

Part of the Devil's Corkscrew

April 24:  I had two choices for a pleasant hike the rest of the way out of the canyon:  early morning or late afternoon when the cliffs shade the trail.  Because the heat, while not extreme, not even "hot" by Canyon standards, was still an issue.  Then, on the way out, I met a ranger who said it might SNOW the next day on the South Rim.  Say what?

The fading light as we approached the rim, still comfortable in short sleeves

April 25:  We decided to storm chase on the way home, so we went to Snowbowl near Flagstaff, and...

Yeah.  That happened.

So, I went from supposedly freezing temps at night to an unpleasantly warm 95 degrees in the bottom of the Grand Canyon during the day to SNOWING.  All within the space of four days.  The first temperature swing was in two locations probably less than 5 miles apart as the crow flies (though part of that flight would be a 4500-foot drop), and the second swing was only 75 miles away (though another 2500 feet of elevation difference).

Arizona IS a land of extremes.

P.S.  Timeanddate.com claims that it indeed got to 32 degrees in the early morning hours of April 22 at Grand Canyon Village (though I don't believe it) and NOAA's observations at Phantom Ranch/Bright Angel Campground say the high was 96 that same day (which I do believe).  So...a possible 64 degrees of difference.  :)  

But before I accidentally add to the myth that the desert is "boiling hot" in the day and "freezing cold" at night, at Phantom Ranch (Bright Angel Campground), where it was hot but not scorching during the day, it was a only a pleasantly cool 59 at night.  And at Grand Canyon Village, where it was coldish at night, it was very pleasant during the day.   

Day 3: Backpacking in the Grand Canyon

Day three (April  24, 2024) was my last in the Canyon, but I didn't want it to be.  I was having so much fun that I decided to spend the day and hike out in the late afternoon.

So I got up earlyish and went to talk to my across-the-way neighbors, a big group that had dragged in the night before, exhausted but happy, with a man in a one-wheeled rickshaw.  The guys I first talked to were from Luke 5 Adventures, and the man of the hour was an older man, an adventurer and philanthropist with cerebral palsy, whose wish was to go down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon.  All these people were working together to make it possible. They'd come down the South Kaibab to the Tip-off and across the Tonto yesterday.  Today they planned to go down to the river and back up.  The next day they'd climb back up to the rim.  They had a wilderness caterer with them, cooking up bacon with biscuits and gravy.  They had a photographer, documenting the journey.  What an amazing group of people and an amazing adventure.  Two years ago, when I made my first hike down to the river, I met a man in an wheelchair and another group of people supporting him in his dream.  Both experiences affirmed my faith in the human race.     

After wishing them good luck, I headed off on a little morning hike on the Tonto trail West.  At first, the path was marred by piles of giant pipes and various construction equipment for the new pipeline project.  Though it wasn't pretty, it was interesting.  Plateau Point is closed, so I headed off toward Horn Creek campground. 

It was a different view than the other trails I've been on here, striking out across that scrubby green plateau that drops riverward into side canyons and rises rimward into sheer red cliffs.  The walking was easy, so I kept going.    

I got all the way to Horn Creek Campground, empty at the moment, but pleasantly shaded:

Maybe I'll camp here someday.  Then I headed back, enjoying dramatic views down Horn Creek Canyon.  The walk was 5 miles roundtrip, and I saw not one single person!  A bit different from the South Kaibab and the Bright Angel.

Then I hung around in camp, reading a book I'd found in the library, playing cards with the family I'd met down at Bright Angel Campground, eating lunch, soaking my feet for the trip up, talking with people at the water spigot.  A very pleasant, relaxing interlude.

Here's me in my tent:

I started up the trail at about 3:10.  I thought that would be timing it right to get shade about the time I started the ascent to 3-Mile Resthouse, but I'd timed it wrong, and it was still sunny.  I should have left a little later (or walked a little slower).  But it wasn't too hot, and I'd wet myself down at Havasupai Gardens, so it was okay.

At 3-Mile Resthouse I made myself take a long rest to stave off the nausea I felt the last two years on the final ascent.  I hoped today would be different, since I wasn't doing the whole 16-mile trek in one day, but I didn't want to take any chances, so I sat and ate salty snacks and drank electrolytes and talked with other hikers and an enthusiastic and talkative ranger.  Two of the hikers were a couple from the Netherlands, who I'd met briefly a stone's throw down the trail.  And there began a trail friendship that lasted the entire rest of the hike.  We walked together, chatted, rested again at 1 1/2-Mile Resthouse, shared snacks, and exchanged info.  They were very cool people, on a much more ambitious backpacking trip than I was.  They'd gone all the way to the North Rim and back in three days, camping at Cottonwood Campground.  Their companionship made the last three miles (always the hardest for me on that trail) fly by.

The sun was setting, turning the canyon beautiful colors.  But before it got dark, we made it to the top:

It was an AWESOME Trip.  I'm already planning to do it again.

I loved my first two trips, going to the river and back in one day.  But I loved this even more.  Much more time to explore.  Time to take side hikes.  Time to make friends.  The beauty of being there at night.  I highly recommend it.

Handy tip for if this sounds fun to you:  There's a lottery for campground spots, but I didn't win.  I was sad.  But I didn't give up.  As the "I'm sorry" e-mail instructed me, I stalked the website every day (sometimes twice a day) starting about the middle of February.  One night, at like 1:00 AM, I found ONE slot open for ONE night at Bright Angel Campground.  I booked it immediately, even though I would have liked two nights.  About three weeks later, I found another slot open the next night at Havasupai Gardens.  I added it to my itinerary (easy to do).  And voila!  A great itinerary.   I've since been looking, out of curiosity, and it appears that if you're flexible with dates, it's not impossible to find something this way.    

May you one day have as great an experience as I did.

Day 2: Backpacking in the Grand Canyon

April 23, 2024:

So...after taking down my rain fly because it was too hot to sleep, I spent a decently comfortable night with the white noise of the creek, the crazy-bright light of the moon, and nothing covering me until halfway through the night when I pulled my sleeping bag half over me.  

I got up early (for me), but not at the crack of dawn, and took a nice walk along the River Trail on the south side of the river between the two bridges.  It's blasted out of solid rock on a lot of its course, with some rather sheer drop-offs, and I'd never walked it.  I'm glad I did.  Very nice trail.  I read that they were going to name it after the first person who died working to build it.  Well...it's called the River Trail.  :)  A story with a happy ending. 

And here's a view of muddy Bright Angel Creek joining the comparatively bluer waters of the Colorado River.  Bright Angel Creek was what we used for our drinking water.  Relatively pure, but full of sediment.  I filtered through my scarf and then used purification tablets because I don't have a filter.  But that's next on my buying list.  :)

Then I set off for Havasupai Gardens so I could get above the Devil's Corkscrew (a series of switchbacks totally exposed to the sun) before it got really hot.  Here's a view of some of the equipment they have sitting on the beach for their work on the new waterline project.  For a bit of size perspective, take a look at the person walking past those spools.  I wondered how on Earth they got that there, along with the backhoe up a bit on the hill.  Later I talked to a ranger and found the answer:  military-grade helicopters.  

And here are some pretty flowers on the Devil's Corkscrew (prickly pear blossoms and brittlebush):  

This is the graphic warning about the folly of trying to go to the river and back in one day (unless you've really trained, you're carrying enough food and water, and you're going before summer really sets in or after it's cooled off in the fall).  If you want to see my posts from when I did it in one day, check these out:  Rim to River to Rim 2022 and Rim to River to Rim 2023 :)) 

After I arrived at Havasupai Gardens and claimed my camping spot, I "cooked" lunch.  This is my delicious-to-me recipe of dehydrated refried beans, instant rice, dehydrated bell peppers, and taco seasoning.  I planned to cold-soak it, but this nice metal squirrel-foiling device on the bag-hanging bars was nice and toasty, so my lunch came out warm.  

Not a bad view from my campsite:

Pictures from my little old camera don't do this justice, but this was the beginnings of sunset from the big rock on the Tonto Plateau where I sat with two cool guys and watched the sunset.  

Then we watched the moon light up distant cliffs, then the moonshadow moving across the plateau, and finally the full moon rising in all its glory and turning the canyon into an eerie almost-daylight.  It was a little surreal, and so much fun sharing it with new friends.  I don't have pictures of the moon, because my camera was inadequate to capture such beauty, but hopefully my moon-watching friend will send me one.  We sat there talking, enjoying the gorgeous evening, and didn't drag into camp until about 10:15, which is really, really late in the backpacking world.  I got ready for bed as quietly as possible, enjoying the peace, the quiet, the cliffs lit up by nature's floodlight, and the breeze in the cottonwoods.

I LOVE BACKPACKING HERE!  

Day 1: Backpacking in the Grand Canyon

Though I hike and camp a lot, I haven't backpacked since I was a kid, when my dad and/or brothers hauled the heaviest loads and planned and organized everything.  So I put a lot of thought and planning and anticipation into this trip.

I was a little worried that my high expectations would lead to disappointment.  But the experience far exceeded my expectations.  It was fantastic.  And I am absolutely doing it again.

Here's a little of Day 1 (on April 22, 2024).  Sorry for the picture quality of some of these.  I didn't take my good camera with me because it's big and heavy, and for my first time backpacking, I was trying to cut down weight where I could.

Sunrise on the South Kaibab from Ooh-Aah Point.  The sight was lovely, but it was a sad time too because I met a group of ten long-time friends who had coordinated their schedules, planned for fourteen months, and flown from Virginia...only to find that their reservations at Phantom Ranch had been cancelled due to a waterline break.  So sad.  They were making the most of it, doing day hikes, but I felt so bad for them...and I selfishly felt lucky that I was backpacking instead of staying in the lodge, because the campground was still open despite the problems with water (and I'd bought extra water-purification tablets two days before, when I heard that the water would be off, so I knew I'd be okay).   

Cedar Ridge:

Me approaching the river:

Setting up camp at beautiful Bright Angel Campground, right along the creek:

After dropping my heavy stuff in camp, I took a little pleasure hike up a couple of miles of the "Box," on the North Kaibab trail.  Very pretty, with high walls on both sides and the creek rushing down the middle.  I'd never been here before, because on my previous hikes from the rim to the river and back in one day, there was no time or energy for side trips.  

One the way back, I witnessed a little show-down between a rock squirrel and a rattlesnake.  More on that here:  https://www.melindabrasher.com/2024/04/grand-canyon-rattlesnake.html.  

By this time, it was getting pretty hot (95 degrees), so I spent the middle of the day chatting with neighbors and cooling off in Bright Angel Creek, maybe fifteen feet from my tent:

In the evening, I went to the boat beach, waded in the cold, cold Colorado, and made a little sand castle.

On the way back, I met this not-so-little guy:  

 

Everyone was so friendly in the campground.  It felt a lot like staying in a good hostel, where you meet new friends and do things together.  So much fun.  

My across-the-footpath neighbors were a mother and adult daughter who had never camped before last year, when they backpacked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Talk about bravely jumping right in!  They liked it so much they came back this year.  They told me the moon was amazing from my campsite, so I invited them to come over later for a moon-watching party.  They accepted, and we talked about books and compared notes on being newbie backpackers.  

Then there were the two men I'd met on the way down, who planned to dry-camp elsewhere, but were waiting in the shade of my down-stream neighbor's campsite until temperatures got bearable enough for the rest of the hike.  The three of them were apparently having such a good time chatting and getting to know each other that the two gave up on their plans and accepted my neighbor's invitation to share his campsite (approved by the ranger, of course).  I spent some time at their site, chatting with one of the men (who has climbed Kilimanjaro and Aconcagua and a lesser-known peak in the Himalayas) about his favorite trips ever:  a safari in Africa and a hiking trip to Banff.  Both of which are high on my list. 

I met a mother and father with an eleven-year-old daughter who was pumped to be here, and who was avidly doing the Junior Ranger program.

At moonrise I stood in the middle of the footpath and marveled over the spectacle with a man who had planned his whole trip around the full moon.  

But the most surprising encounter I had was when a young woman walked by who looked an awful lot like the AZ Trail thru hiker I'd met weeks earlier on the AZ trail near Colossal Cave.  We'd hiked together for about four miles, and I loved her "there's not just one right way to backpack" attitude, her cheerful willingness to answer my many questions, her casual bravery about thru-hiking alone, and her enthusiasm for some of the same things I'm enthusiastic about.  I'd joked then that maybe we'd meet at Grand Canyon, but she planned to be all the way to Utah long before now.  So it couldn't possibly be her, right?  I wandered down the campground, looking for her, and right near the end, out popped another thru-hiker I'd met the same day, back at Colossal Cave.  "I know you!" I said.  "From Colossal Cave. I asked you all sorts of questions."  "And your dad gave me oranges!" he said.  "Yes!"  Then I looked over and saw the young woman sitting at a table.  I addressed her by her trail name and recognition lit in her eyes too.  I couldn't believe it.  Both of these amazing thru hikers had planned by be through the Grand Canyon a couple of weeks ago.  Yet here they were.  For one night.  And here I was.  For one night.   And it was the SAME NIGHT.  The world is a small place.  Apparently they'd been delayed by major snow near Payson, which was the only reason we had this happy reunion.  We sat and talked for quite a while, and I met two of their other thru hiker friends.  They all inspire me to no end.

Something else amazing:  the almost-full moon.  It was so bright it felt like a floodlight.  My downstream neighbors, whose campsite was still in the moonshadow, asked if I had a flashlight shining on my tent.  I told them it was just the moon, and they almost didn't believe me.  Until it reached their own tents.  

When I went to bed, it was still so hot that I took off my rain fly (which, in hindsight, I never even should have brought in the first place), took off my socks, pushed my sleeping bag aside, and lay down on my air mattress in my shorts and bare feet.  I did pull my sleeping back partially over me like a blanket in the middle of the night, but I definitely didn't get inside.  

It was a wonderful, wonderful day.