We set camp in the valley grass, while various members of the Cal-Tech Mars Research division rambled in, carrying beer, port wine, sausages and curry. To them, camping was a sleeping bag in the grass. "All the better to see the stars," The Englishman said. The Englishman, who had arrived in America only a week before, was a student at Cambridge University, and had never been to the west coast before.

This fact interested the other astronomers. The weather man explained to him the purpose of S'Mores.

"'Some more', get it?"

"Yes" he said in a British accent, "But what are 'Graham crackers'?"
"Graham was actually a Quaker, a really religious protestant type," the Weather man said,

"And he developed these crackers as a way to stunt sexual needs."

"They're that good?" the Englishman asked.
"Well, Graham thought so anyway."

Leya and I left the campsite and drove off to hike along the Mono River at sunset, and watching a lone white-bearded fly-fisherman cast a thread through the air. 'What a stereotype', I thought, and asked him if he ever caught anything. "They'll start biting in half an hour."

Returning to camp, we passed a troupe of aging naked hippies loitering in a makeshift jacuzzi, diverted from the hot creek.

I asked, "If you do find life on Mars, it doesn't really prove anything about life in outer space, right?"

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