Decrepit mines for Trump
Nick and I sat a couple weeks ago and traced the center of the path of totality on a map, west to east, looking for a drivable mountain spot that would have us home with time to prepare for school starting the next day.
Something around Deadwood Reservoir? Bear Valley? A short hike around Stanley Lake? I showed Nick pictures of our previous visits to those places. They’re all nice. But when I saw the line cross Railroad Ridge, farther east, I knew the search was over.