To cherish these and other memories from our trips I have started a blog to document all these sweaty adventures, past and future. Not just the sexy ones, mind you, but also the heroic and death defying ones that will through the years be interwoven into our country's fabric in the form of folklore and legend, much like the stories of John Henry, Paul Bunyan and Donald Trump. Children will sing songs of our camping prowess and corridos will be sung for years to come by wandering, lone guitarists in dusty Mexican villages.
Because I want to encourage all of us to post to the blog as much as possible, I will give everyone "author" access and make the blog private. The only people that have access to it are us and anyone we specifically invite to have access to it. Anything that's not work appropriate or mom appropriate will be protected from the general public. The search engines will never index the content we're creating. I did this also to preserve the sanctity and free use of BMJs (Brian's Mom Jokes).
This blog is basically ours and we can write whatever the fuck we want on it as long as we're not posting illicit child porn or bomb-making instructions (try to refrain Ivan). We can post our favorite pictures, videos, links to bad ass gear we want to buy for future trips, ideas for future trips, trip planning ideas, rantings and musings, sonnets and haikus, whatever. Comments will be enabled so rather than relying on long email threads we can use this is a way to have a dialogue and maybe plan our trips in a better way. I havent messed around with the notification preferences yet but we can probably set it so that you only get emailed when a new post gets made, not necessarily for every comment. For starters, I just uploaded all of my photos from Kings Canyon on my Flickr account. Stay tuned for a follow up post with my top 10 or 12 favorites and a link to the Flickr set.
Now, to celebrate this grand achievement I will now share with you a haiku I wrote about Brian's mom.
Valerie Warlan
Forbidden fruit wanderlust
Waiting in my pants

You are a true poet my friend
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