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Saturday, June 12, 2021

To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day...

Do you know where Agua Fria is? I didn't until today. and it just so happens that I am laying in bed in an old  dumpy motel in that very town this very second. A room without air conditioning and with a surfeit of flies at no extra charge. Hopefully no armed bandits, I am a bit tired and ill equipped for gun play.

The town of Agua Fria is now called Mariposa, after the great numbers of monarch butterflies that once gathered here. It is one of the original 27 counties in California and is mostly just Yosemite and a little surrounding land. Was originally a boomtown in the gold rush. Of course, there is an Agua Fria in Arizona too and one in New Mexico but they don't really work in my current narrative and Marty ain't exactly talking nowadays.

I screwed up getting here today, took an extra hour or so on Highway 49 but finally made it to my appointed destination, in a very roundabout fashion. I have been exploring the Eastern Sierras for the last three days. Been a year and a half since I have gone anywhere due to Covid and this is the last place I went in February, 2020, before anyone was hip to the pandemic. If memory serves they were more worried about dysentery at the lodge last time I was around these parts. Anyway I came back and left nary a stone or a Sierra lake unturned.

I usually don't mention that I am out of town but hope to be home in a jiffy. It has been an interesting trip, with ups and downs, I have pushed myself really hard this time. Mostly ups, a lot of ups. Operating on a few hours sleep, was out shooting the Milky Way until one in the morning or so and then up again at four to catch the sunrise. Early to bed tonight. Will fill you in later.

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