Route 41 on the drive in.  Lots of cows, dead grass, barbed wire, and warning signs. (Andre took this photo.)

Windy, dusty, route 41 (or maybe 46).  (Doug)

Once out of Fresno, the apparent armpit of California, we started up the mountains towards Kings Canyon.  (Doug)

Another shot off of the 180 headed up the mountains.  (Doug)

A provocative depiction of man versus nature.  Here, Andre contemplates the vast canyon before him as his sweaty shirt clings to his back.  (Doug, obviously.)

Doug scrutinizes the canyon.  (Andre)

Here, overwhelmed with awe, Andre expresses his raging torrent of emotion.  (Andre)

A picture of the canyon from one of the many turnouts along the 180 headed down into Kings Canyon.  (Andre)

Doug and Petunia.  (Andre)

The first night's campsite.  Petunia hides behind a tree and bush as the tents bask in the late afternoon sun.  The viewer might note that this photo depicts a campground.  Thanks to the early closing of the wilderness permit office, Doug and Andre had no choice but to spend the first night here and get an early start the next day.  (Andre)

The river just down the hill from the campground.  (Andre)

...and looking up-river towards the mountains.  (Andre)

It may appear that Andre is here submerging his unseen, shoed foot in the Kings River.  But rest assured, dear viewer, that as Andre is further downstream, his foot (and shoe) are simply resting on unseen rock.   (Doug)

Weird moss growing on a tree near the river.  (Andre)

Looking up at a couple of trees near the river.  Moss abounds on the branches of the tree on the left.  (Andre)