On our last night in Lake Tahoe, Melissa and I went for a couple of short hikes, one along a tributary of rapids that flow into the lake, and one to the top of Eagle Rock, which was apparently also the site of a mountaintop wedding. Whatever pictures came out from the rapids seemed to pale in comparison to the photo of a wind-blown bride on her way up the rocks. I wasn’t paying attention to the shoes, but Melissa said she was wearing flip flops. All I know is that we did our best to be quiet and listen as they did the ceremony, even helping to quiet others who were on their way up to the same spot and didn’t know there was a wedding in progress. I mean, who would expect such a thing?
