Last weekend I went camping at Rock Creek with a bunch of my friends. We camped at French Camp at the base of the Sierras and went fishing. I caught zero fish, though Emmanuel and Josh each caught a fish big enough to eat. The only thing the fish would bite on were moths we found hiding behind some papers at the campground bulletin board... the fish mostly shunned power bait, salmon eggs, fake worms, real worms, and just about anything else.
Fog pouring over the Santa Monica Mountains on the drive out.
The Sierra Wave, a neat cloud formation that forms in the Eastern Sierras and the Owens Valley.
A storm over the White Mountains. As of June, these mountains were still getting occassional snowstorms.
The Sierra Wave and Mount Tom.
Ravens in Coso Junction, unconcerned with snakes.
I won't be back up here again before I leave, and I don't know when I'll be back again. It's one of my favorite places.