The pics from my "moms" (that's an attempt at hipster talk and not a plural of mom) keep on coming on Fridays this summer looking back twenty years ago. And it's safe to assume that this is in that same national park featured in the ones from the last few weeks. I just love how we see an obstacle in our path and just blast a hole through the mountain. [Shhh ... no one tell John Muir.]
As for that investigation as to why I have no pictures of my own from the summer of '91, it could also be that I was just focused on LVC theatre business, attempting to blast a hole through my own obstacle or two. According to my notes, I was elected president of Wig and Buckle at the end of the school year, and we were focused on Operation Money Storm (as a reminder, Schwarzkopf was all the rage then) and Operation Iron Lung -- one a short term fund raising strategy for our bankrupt club and the other a long term financing plan for our little-group-that-could. When you're out squeezing blood out of turnips (there's an antiquated phrase for you ...), you just don't have time to document it on film.
[Or I guess there is still a real chance that my camera was just broken for those months ...]
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