We spent the first night sleeping at the base of Mt. Whitney in the Alabama Hills, just outside of Lone Pine, CA. Due to the beating sun, we spent the day in the mountains trying to find pools to fish. Instead, we ended up hiking more than we expected and only managed to catch a few tiny ones. After spending an hour or two playing our knife throwing competition, we called it a day and headed down the mountain in hopes it cooled off. We were sorely wrong. It was summer in the desert. Until sundown, we spent the remaining afternoon laying on rocks and playing cards in the shade. After the sun went down, we made a fire, only to realize it was still too warm, so we ended up sitting a good 20 feet away from it. When we were finally ready for sleep, we folded out the bed and popped open the sunroof.
"I don't know if we're even gonna sleep tonight," John said nervously but somewhat comically.
"Come on, dude. It's not even that bad. We're so tired that we'll fall asleep no matter what," I stated, in hopes of getting up our spirit.
As I laid down on the leather sofa with the thinnest blanket I could find, my eyes stared at the ceiling and I began to break a sweat. "Yeah... This is gonna be a long night."