Lone. Pine. is. Heaven. Period.
LA bought the majority of water rights, preventing it from being destroyed, and it is AH-MAZING. The time we spent there was incredible. We climbed, relaxed, ran, bouldered, rock hopped, you name it. We spent the mornings in the warm sun with our signature Cafe Con Carolans, the afternoons on the rocks with some snacks for lunch, and a big hearty meal for dinner spent seated inside our tent, facing each other, eating from the same pot.
This particular evening I was pretty spent when I offered to make dinner. Why was I tired? I’ll tell you!!! I woke up and ran for a good portion of the morning before climbing with John all afternoon. After we got off the rock, we decided to make a six mile roundtrip walk to town to fill our water jugs. So, after our walk, day of climbing, and my early morning run, I was hungry, and happily exhausted.
I made rice and beans by headlamp as John moved around some items so he could read to me as I cooked. When dinner was ready, John and I sat facing one another, just like every other evening, with the pot between us, steaming.
So there we were, enjoying our meal by hanging headlamp, the savory aroma of sazón driving our appetites, urging us to eat more, quickly finish it, yet enjoy it, when I felt him watching me. I looked up and his face was simply…puzzled. He grinned at me, cocked his head, and said in a voice dripping in hesitant concern, “Baby, I can make a sandwich and run my own program if you need to handle that,” throwing a glance at the pot that was no longer centered between us, but behind the guarding arm I’d subconsciously wrapped around it as I scooped the entire meal, down to the last grain of rice, to my side.
I thought of how I must have looked in the moment…We took this picture with Risotto in NYC to help you better understand. *We understand risotto and arroz con habichuelas are not the same dish, as we understand NYC and Lone Pine are not the same location*
I suddenly understood how Corky must feel with his precious pig ears, and felt another bridge crossed in my K-9 connection. I sheepishly fixed my posture, removed the guarding hand, and reluctantly pushed him half of the remaining food. I then proceeded to wait an impatient but courteous (I thought) two seconds or so to allow him to catch up before diving back in for more.
Full, warm, and satisfied, I coaxed my lover to forgive me by reading a HILARIOUS few pages about Maarten Troost’s experience with kava in “Getting Stoned with Savages.” (Read my review HERE) We fell asleep, exhausted from another amazing day together in the desert, and thinking the game Life was wrong. A five person family, massive house with expensive auctions and insurance and a white picket fence is completely unnecessary to win the game. Hell, the two of us are unemployed and living in the back of a small SUV with two dogs, and we’re still ABSOLUTELY winning!