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And yet broke slumber as the 8 a.m. sun crested the ridge.

We are not clean. The earwigs have spared us, but they flee in droves from our blankets as we fold up. Shoes filled with weed stickers and dust, pants stained and a bit stiff, smelly shirts, soiled faces. A brief return to life in the dirt. Not bad, not clean.But hey, the Yukon’s packed, and we stumble down the mountain road back to Mariposa and an adequate breakfast at The Happy Burger Café (One Hawk Star, for atmosphere). Paul M buys Rob a ride on a toy semi for a quarter. It even has a horn and air brakes. How cool. Paul L orders a Belgium Espresso, despite a stonewall from the staff on how it might be constructed. Not bad. And the hot sauce was good.

A retrace mountainward and beyond, through dry forest canyon, and we’re at The Bug, a multi-leveled hostel and cabin complex carved among the steep evergreen slopes. And here we sit, at a very hip Euro flavored café, with wi fi and green tea. Farewell dub, hello, unobtrusive techno. Only the dreads remain constant.