The fear of the sea is called Thalassophobia.
Anyway.
On Sunday I got up early due to a wayward alarm clock and then accidently drank caffinated coffee, and after that there was no chance of sleeping in.
I found out that two cars got their windows smashed either Saturday night or Sunday morning. One belongs to the "security guard" and the other belongs to my main "boss."
Around noon I went to the barn. The drive had become a quagmire again so I had to park down the street.
Denise was at a tack sale, but another boarder was there to fill me in. Even though they'd had 8 inches of rain, there was a large dry spot in the arena, so the tarps worked.
I knew if I stayed, I would become obsessed with ironing out the driveway again, and it was just too bright and sunny to work, so I left.
I had seen snow on the local mountains and I was determined I could drive to it!
Unfortunately, the snow was on Santiago Peak, which seems to be accessible only after a long, long hike. The only highway going through the mountain range, Ortega, is farther south. The veiw from the Lookout was boring, it was a boring kind of day. There were only a handful of cars and bikes, which was unusual for a Sunday. I had never taken the Toyota so far or on such roads, but it did OK.
On the way back down, I noticed a lot of cars parked in the turnout next to a canyon. I had seen ice on some of the road sides that get no sunlight, so I stopped to see if maybe they had found snow. I could hear the loud sound of water, and people having a good time, so I found a parking space and hiked down to see...
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