The Devil's Postpile part 1

7-25-98 7:45 PM Sa
Devil's Postpile National Monument.  [a pointy tail and horns on the D, the l is a pitchfork]  We left L.A. yesterday morning.  I ate a bowl of cereal in the morning, and then I puked it up in three nasty heaves.  It was only the beginning.  We'd angered the gods, or we'd invited the devil into our day.  I don't know for what past karmic transgression we were paying.  I believe there's a rhythm and pace to camping and it begins in the planning and packing;  You have to get into nature's flow, sit quietly, and the voices will tell you what to pack and when to leave exactly and where to stop.  Shirelle's not into that.  "When are we gonna go?"  "Where are we gonna camp?"  "Are you ready yet?"  "Did you pack underwear?"  Etc.  I finally just threw a bunch of shit in the car and we left.  Somewhere around Big Pine she started complaining she was thirsty.  I said we'd stop soon.  I pulled into an Arco station.  I pumped gas, and Shirelle went into the market.  I thought she was going to get something for her thirst.  After I'd filled her up, I waited in her Mustang for her to come out (We had decided the Chrysler probably wasn't in any shape to make it up 395 through the Sierra).  When she got in, I pulled onto the highway.  "Where are you going?  What are you doing?  I thought we were going to that market back there?" 
"What for?"
"I said I was thirsty, and you said you would stop."
"I thought you went into the market at the gas station."
"I did, but I thought we were going to go to that other market."
"Well, there will be another one coming up soon."
"YOU SAID WE WERE GOING TO GO TO THE MARKET!"
A battle ensued.  I gave up and made a three-point turnaround.
"This kind of backtrack is bad luck," I said.
We were already planning on stopping in Bishop anyway because we'd forgotten towels.  I didn't see any wisdom in making two stops when we were trying to beat the weekend crowds to the campsites.  I waited in the car.  After a while, she got in with her bag of groceries.  I waited.  I watched.  She just sat there.  "I thought you were thirsty," I said.
"I am," she said.  She uncapped her water and took a little sip and put the cap back on."
"You weren't thirsty," I said.  "You just want to hassle cuz your bored."  We battled a little more.  Suddenly the traffic got bad.  I knew that stop was a bad move.  We pulled into the Kmart at Bishop and bought assorted bullshit after waiting in the long lines at the checkout counter .  We went out to the car and loaded our stuff and got in.  I turned the key and click click click.  I popped the hood and had a look.  The clicking was coming from the solenoid.  It was right on top and looked easy to replace.  Were we in luck?  There was a Napa Auto Parts Store right across the street.  I went over and bought a solenoid and a set of wrenches, after waiting a long time for the guy in front of me to finish asking questions.  There were seven different wrenches in the set.  There were three different sizes of nuts and bolts on the solenoid.  None of the wrenches fitted one of the bolts.  I went into the Kmart and bought another set of wrenches, after waiting in the long lines at the checkout stands again.  I changed the solenoid.  I got in and turned the key.