year of the tiger, no, pig

The calm area below where we camped is known as Queen's Pond. I didn't realize that was amusing until, like, last week!

 Christine picked me up in her truck at 7 ayem. The sun hadn't come up over the ridge yet, and it was dark. She's the granddaughter of my friend Ruth and was taking her mom and me out to Polihale in her four-wheel drive truck. Fortunately, since it took my rental Camray about an hour to get there on the corrugated roads. We got there before the sun hit the beach, and mother, daughter and dog headed off towards the Barking Sands Missile Range, while I toiled up the dune I once lived atop. As the sun started hitting the sand I heard the Star Spangled Banner being blasted over Navy base speakers. Yikes!
On the way home, we remembered the Year of the Pig. Turns out Christine and I are both Tigers, which makes her about 20. "I am living my life vicariously through you, I told her. She said, "So now do I need to be a hippy and gather an entourage of gay guys?"

She surfs, she snorkels, she travels in a holoholo truck with tangerines. I can relate.