Lake Elenor

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Reaching Cherry Lake I felt a sense of relief. Jamie’s car made the trip without overheating once. Afternoon heat was nearly at it’s peak for the day which meant the longer we stayed here, the cooler it would be by the time we left. Driving back to Dimond O was going to be much easier on Jamie’s car. I didn’t have to worry about a roadside automotive situation of hate on our return trip.

Jamie put us on a dirt and gravel road which took us past Cherry Lake. We rode over a dam, following a dirt track over to the other side of the lake. I wasn’t sure where exactly we were going. With Cherry Lake behind us, Jamie pulled into a small parking area and killed the motor. Stepping out of the car I looked around and saw nothing but dry bushes, dusty earth, and tall pine trees. Autumn and Jamie began unloading stuff from the car. That was when I guessed the three of us were leaving on the day’s hike portion of our trip. One other car was locked up in the same spot next to Jamie’s, but there wasn’t another soul in sight. The air was still and quiet. I wondered if maybe the person who owned that car had come out here and died. Didn’t seem to me that many people came to this place often. I don’t know why, it just had that sort of a feel to it.

Loaded with backpacks we formed a single file line on a dusty trail that rambled haphazardly through brush towards the top of a hill. A large sign posted at the trail-head told us we were back on Yosemite National park ground. The tree line made an impressive backdrop as I followed just behind Autumn. Jamie took point out in front of our little hiking troop. I was having a tough time breathing while we walked along. Probably because I was not used to the altitude and definitely because I was terribly out of shape. During the week I sit most of the time while I’m at work, and when I get home I sit around there too. As I continued forward breathing harder along the way I decided hitting a fitness club a few times a week was something I should make a point to look into soon.

Each of my foot steps in the dirt caused a fine cloud of tan colored dust to erupt from under my shoes. This area was dry as a tinderbox. No wonder fires can rage out of control in territory like this. The whole place is like a gasoline can waiting for a careless fool to drop a match inside. Everywhere around us small animals were scurrying about making noises in low lying brush and in the tree tops far above our heads. I couldn’t see any of them though. All of these critters were hiding from view. Making it over the hill top the trail plunged downward along the other side in a steep fashion doubling back and forth on itself like a long snake. That was going to be easy work.

Twenty minutes later we reached the bottom. Level ground greeted us. Continuing on, Jamie lead us to a vacant campsite. There was an old wooden outhouse that looked so unused I imagined nobody had sat inside it to take a dump since 1895. There wasn’t a soul in any of the campsites we hiked through. Each spot was well equipped though. They had the bear-proof food storage boxes I was becoming accustomed to seeing by now, fire pits, and tables. At this point the trail we were using came to an end so Autumn and I followed Jamie towards Lake Elenor’s shore.

What a pretty sight Lake Elenor was. Emerging from the forest I stepped on to rough sand and took in a wide view of the lake. It was gorgeous. Crystal clear water, sharp blue sky, and rolling hills covered in dense forest along the horizon. I was amazed this place somehow managed to not be infested with people like the Yosemite valley. Lake Elenor was peaceful. Quiet. No idiotic tourists bouncing off each other everywhere I looked. Yeah!

Autumn wanted to find a nice place to set lunch out for our picnic. Walking along the water’s edge we discovered a man sitting alone on a rock. Jamie said hello to him, the man gave Jamie a nod of recognition back. Jamie smiled and made a wisecrack to the effect of how great it was here at Lake Elenor that no San Franciscans were loitering about fucking the entire place up. That didn’t go over too well with this guy. Jamie failed to notice that the man was wearing a baseball cap with City of San Francisco water department written on it. Heh. I laughed hard because that’s usually the kind of trouble I get into with people when I open my mouth. Obviously embarrassed at his insert-foot-in-mouth comment Jamie quickly left the city employee to locate a vacant stretch of lake shoreline.

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~ by factorypeasant on March 18, 2007.

7 Responses to “Lake Elenor”

  1. Bet the guy in the sf cap comes back to murder you guys in the night.

    DT

  2. Here’s what I think happens next:

    In the middle of the night you awake. It’s not clear why at first but then you here some bird noises and the occasional crunching twig. Something about the bird noises bother you. You don’t remember hearing any before on previous nights.

    You realize that you are alone in the tent.

    And then, click!, was that a twig snapping under foot just outside the tent? Is someone sneaking around out there?

    Quietly as you can you remove yourself from your sleeping bag. But the noise of the zipper and the fabric, normally insignificant, disturbs your ability to hear what’s going on outside. Was that another step? Who’s out there?

    Abandoning any semblance of being particularly quiet, you move rapidly to dress yourself, pants thrown on, shoes not tied, and then you open the flap, hearing the sudden sound of careful footsteps crunching back and away from the tent. You freeze as you look out, trying to shake yourself awake and identify the noises at the same time. It is suddenly silent.

    Before you, across the camp, a light mist drifts across the glass-like surface of Cherry Lake, illuminated by the crescent moon high overhead. A disturbance in its perfectly still waters directly in front of you and just a few feet from shore arrests your attention. You watch, transfixed as something rises slowly up.

    Is it the guy from SF? You can barely recognize him, his head wrapped in a dark bandana and his face covered in camo-paint, glistening in the faint moonlight, as he rises out of the lake carrying what looks like a rocket launcher with three bayonets sticking dangerously off the end.

    Your sphincter tightens as you watch him advance and at the same time you hear the footsteps again, only this time they’re not sneaking, they’re running and accompanied by a blood-curdling scream.

    Aaaaaaaaahhhh!!!! First from behind you, whoever that is, Autumn perhaps, or Jamie, or maybe even someone else, with the now-running footsteps, then from the psycho dude from SF as he bursts from the water and charges directly at you, and finally all voices are screaming in unison as the inevitable collision approaches.

    Tune in next week for the exciting conclusion of Cataclysm at Cherry!

  3. nice. no, that isn’t at all what happened on the rest of the trip. i take it this is a skilled but veiled message for me to get off my ass and update this dog. yeah, i’m working on it. i started the next segment days ago but haven’t been able to finish. workin long hours at my new job and so fucking tired when i get home i haven’t been able to write much. ugh…

    i’ll tell ya all about it on the 21st, y0.

  4. Boo Hoo you work 12 hour days 6 day a week and then are to tired to write funny things about your life for you looser friends. Come on MAN up, your name is Factory-Peasant not factory-do-whatever-the-hell-want!!! You OWE us man!!! I’ve been re reading this post for like 3 weeks now. Here you want me to recite it for you?

    Reaching Cherry Lake I felt a sense of anal relief. Jamie’s car made the trip without blowing a load once. Afternoon meat was nearly at it’s peak for the day which meant the longer we stayed here, eggs and bacon. Driving back to Dimond BO was going to be much easier on Jamie’s anus. I didn’t have to worry about a roadside automotive sex party of hate on our return trip.

    Jamie put us on a dirt and gravel road which took us past Busted Cherry Lake. We rode over a dam, following a dirty hole over to the other side of the lake. I wasn’t sure where exactly we were going because of the drugs. With Bustid Cherry Lake behind us, Jamie pulled out his small prik and killed the motor. Stepping out of the car into dog crap i looked around and saw nothing but dry bushes, dusty earth, and tall pine trees and a bunch of guys in roller skates. Autumn and Jamie began unloading bodies from the car. That was when I guessed the three of us were leaving on the day’s destroying incriminating evidence portion of our trip. One other car was locked up in the same spot next to Jamie’s, so i could not steal the stereo even tho there wasn’t another soul in sight. The air was still and quiet and smelled of ass. I wondered if maybe the person who owned that car had come out here and died. Didn’t seem to me that many people came to this place often. The cars tire is bumpy I don’t know why, it just had that sort of a feel to it.

    Loaded with body parts we formed a single file line on a dusty trail that rambled haphazardly through brush towards the top of a hill. A large sign posted at the trail-head told us “NO BODY DUMPING on Yosemite National park ground”. Autumn’s behind made an impressive backdrop as I followed. Jamie took point out in front of our little hiking troop, in case of land mines. I was having a tough time breathing while we walked along, because of the meth in my cigaret. Probably because I was not used to the meth and definitely because I was terribly out of beer. During the week I sit most of the time while I’m at work cutting up bodies, and when I get home I sit around there too cutting up bodies. As I continued forward breathing harder along the way I decided hitting a fitness club a few times a week for fresh victims was something I should make a point to look into soon.

    Each of my foot steps in the dirt caused a fine cloud of tan colored dust to erupt from under my shoes. This area was dry as an epileptics turd. No wonder drunks can rage out of control in territory like this. The whole place is like a gasoline can waiting for a careless fool to huff one huff over the line. Everywhere around us small animals were fornicating making noises in low lying brush and in the tree tops far above our heads. I couldn’t see any of them though. All of these critters were hiding from view like the dirty deviants they are. Making it over the hill top the trail plunged downward along the other side in a steep fashion doubling back and forth on itself like a long snake with a taste for its own ass. That was going to be easy work.

    Twenty minutes later we reached the bottom. Level ground greeted us coldly. Continuing on, Jamie lead us to a vacant campsite where we could dump the bodies. There was an old wooden outhouse that looked so unused I imagined nobody had sat inside it to make a cake since 1895. There wasn’t a soul in any of the campsites we hiked through. Each spot was well equipped though. They had the bear-proof food storage boxes I was becoming accustomed to seeing by now, whipping posts, fire pits, and coroners tables. At this point the trail we were using came to an end so Autumn and I followed Jamie towards Lake Elenor’s shore.

    What a pretty sight Lake Elenor was. Emerging from the forest I stepped on to rough sand and took in a wide view of the lake. It was gorgeous. Blood like water, sharp knives, and rolling hills covered in dense forest of decaying human meat along the horizon. I was amazed this place somehow managed to not be infested with people like the Yosemite valley. Lake Elenor was peaceful. Quiet. No idiotic tourists bouncing off each other everywhere I looked. They were all dead. Yeah!

    Autumn wanted to find a nice place to set lunch out for our picnic. Walking along the water’s edge we discovered a man sitting alone on a rock. Jamie said hello to him, the man gave Jamie a strong backhand. Jamie smiled and made a wisecrack to the effect of how great it was here at Lake Elenor that no gays from San Franciscans were loitering about fucking the entire place up. That didn’t go over too well with this gay. Jamie failed to notice that the man was wearing a pride baseball cap with City of San Francisco rainbow devision written on it. Heh. I laughed hard because that’s usually the kind of trouble I get into with people when I open my mouth. Obviously embarrassed at his insert-cock-in-mouth comment Jamie quickly left the city employee to locate a vacant stretched anus.

  5. eXCeLleNt rERitE Dt.

  6. excellent

  7. And when I say excellent, I mean epic “terribly out of beer, dead bodies everywhere, and plenty of buttseks” excellent.

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