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August 20, 2005

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Well, during my last trip around the country I had boasted that my comfort zone was definitely pretty extensive, as I had also mentioned that I could even sleep on a rock. 
Well, to prove it again, here is a rock that I slept on during my trip to Oregon this last week. While Larry took the easy and luxurious comforts of sleeping in his sleeping bag, on the soft grass, I chose the nice firm surface of this rock. Although I must say that I felt somewhat like a cat trying to find that perfect "sweet-spot" in my bedding as I shifted and squirmed all around for a while until the various parts of my body found the appropriate nooks and crannies and lumps and crevices in the surface of the stone. 
And just as I had gotten comfortable and drifted off to sleep, this very large group of French tourists pulled up next to our camp site, at about 2:00 AM and began making all kinds of noise, assembling their tents and gear. 
Larry was definitely not the "happy camper" as he was awakened by the loud pinging sounds of the hammers driving the metal spikes into the ground around the dozen or so tents. Upon our departure he made his feelings very well known as he very loudly throttled his Harley, most certainly awaking just about every living, and/or dead creature in the whole state of California.

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