We woke up to flashes of lightning but no thunder. It was very odd (we hypothesize that since we were in a bowl, the acoustics were somewhat shielding us). It was also drizzling. We set up our tents as fast as we could, then the rain stopped. "Damn, all that work for nothing! We could have just pulled the rainfly over us and called it good!" Then it started raining in earnest, and we fell asleep satisfied with ourselves.
Due to the previous night's activities, we all slept waaay in, 'til seven. Late morning begat late lunch, late lunch begat late night. When we got into camp tonight, we could see the reflective corneas of a deer, which refused to leave and creeped us out.
The Marble Mountains were really really beautiful though. The terrain (ups and downs), and specifically the trail surface (rocky) were hard to deal with after cruising through the forests of Northern California, but it was worth it. Areas of overgrowth on the trail were annoying, but I couldn't complain about needs for trail crews in the area: it was mostly just meadows of hip- to chest-high annuals. Bushwhacking replaced by flower-whacking. Sounds rather pleasant now.
The natural world wasn't the only gorgeousness my eyes beheld. At the top of a ridge (and therefore a long climb), Micro and I ran into a guy out for a weekend of fishing. He was blond and clean-shaven and very, very handsome. My mouth was literally agape, and I almost said, "Wow, you're gorgeous," but changed to, "Wow, you're, you've come to a gorgeous place to fish." I realized that I, who previously was easily distracted by good-looking men and television, will now be completely powerless against them. Can I blame it on an overactive visual cortex rather than lack of willpower? It also made me realize that my "type" has switched from the dark, bearded, dirty, and scruffy to blond, clean shaven, and smelling of soap. I was super-excited about the prospects on the trail, but I suppose overexposure has me jaded.