[pct-l] More weird stuff

[mardav@charter.net (Marion Davison)]

One day in 1992 I hiked from Guitar Lake to the summit of Whitney, then
down the 100 switchbacks to the crowded ghetto known as Trail Camp.  I
was utterly exhausted.  I sat down on a boulder and said, "I never knew
there could be so many rocks in the world, and I would have to step on
every one of them."  I mustered the energy to set up my camp and make
dinner, then crawled into the sack about 7 PM.  Someone in Trail Camp
had packed in a trumpet and was playing it real good, for free. 
Nevertheless I prevailed on my hiking companion to hunt the trumpeter
down and tell him to quit for the night, as I needed my sleep.  What a
selfish oaf I was.   No one has ever been rude enough to tell me to quit
playing guitar.
Marion Davison

SnoLepard wrote:
> 
> I almost forgot. A friend of mine used to occasional take his trombone on solo backpacks. And once I saw a  guy with a saxophone backpacking.
> 
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