A few weekends ago, we took off towards the mountains of California for a little summer adventure in our undyed yak sweaters.
Our destination was a vast alpine lake just inside the limits of the famed Yosemite National Park.
Waking up late on Saturday we were in no rush to hit the trail and more than happy to spend the better part of the morning enjoying campfire-cooked bacon and eggs.
As 11:00am rolled around we decided it was time we got on our way, but not before a quick sunscreen spray.
The hike was quick and easy, but the sun was high and bright. With temperatures pushing well into the 80s, we had to shed our layers of yak and store them in the pack.
We marched along until we reached our goal and an unforeseen obstacle.
Lucky for us, everyone made it across the log in good condition, a climactic end to an anticlimatic expedition.
After a round of high fives, we beelined it to the nearest beach for some well-deserved sandwiches and a break by the lake.
The boredom quickly set in, and we decided to search for greener pastures and the perfect campsite for the night.
After another mile or two, we found our spot dropped the packs and went exploring in our undyed yak.
Scrambling around, we found a stream that was quite literally out of a dream.
Without missing a beat we stripped down to our drawers and leaped rocky shores.
As the sun began to set, we made our way back to our packs with only one thing on our minds. It was feeding time. Without a doubt, we were going to catch a trout.
The sun was setting, and the air was cooling, which meant the yak wool sweaters were making a comeback.
The perfect companion for a crispy twilight fish, the only thing missing was whisky from the Irish.
Before long, the mosquitos came out and seemed as though we’d have to go without a trout.
So we packed our bags one last time and prepared for a short climb up and over some stones in search of a home.
We made some dinner and told some jokes, maybe even took a few tokes...
But before long, we were headed to bed, exhausted from the day's adventures. Sunburnt and dirty, we snuggled up to rest our weary heads.
The next morning came at us fast, as the sun warmed the vast granite landscape we so happily explored.
We packed up, quickly excited to hit the trail in search of the perfect spot for morning coffee and crunchy kale.
By 10am, we were well on our way after nourishing our bodies with more than a few instant coffees.
The crisp morning air was no match for our undyed yak as we headed back with Jack and the front of the pack.
Before we knew it, we'd made it, sweaty, happy, and ready to do it all over again.
Just one more thing before we hit the road, a group picture was surely owed.