Busy weekend. Thursday might we ran down to Two Mile Corner. Something was throwing rocks at us at the second tunnel: not one of my "danger" spots, so we looked up and there was a bighorn on the cliff. Scampering by it, we ran into a baby bighorn (A tiny horn?). Then mama showed up. Then a few more babies. Then another mama. We snuck around them, trying to stay far enough away that we didn't scare them. They were pretty cool, though. Mama kept glancing up nervously as the bighorn above them knocked more rocks loose. I guess she figured that was the real threat.

On the way back out, there were eight of them, two males, a cluster of babies, and their mamas. One of the babies took a flying leap and knocked down a whole pile of rocks! If it isn't the small boys, it is the wildlife.

Went mountain biking in Prescott, and my front brakes went out at the bottom (fortunately!) of the first big hill. So I had to decide: walk back five miles or ride downhill most of the way with less than half of my braking capacity? The front brakes do most of the work. So I walked down three of the really steep hills and went as slow as I could down the others. I only had to skid uphill twice to keep from losing it. It is amazing how many small uphills there are on the downhill run when you are looking frantically for the next one.

Then Sunday we went to Three Mile. No bighorns, but a lot of backpackers, which aren't as much fun. Between Thursday and today some toads wrote their names all over one of the switchbacks in the Fault Switchbacks, but we managed to erase most of them. Carried out a baggie full of cigarette buttes and a Vibram sole that someone had tried to tape on, but didn't. Do these smokers think the nylon in the filter is going to rot? Or do they just not think? If they thought, I guess they wouldn't smoke.