When I first met Rick in 1978 in Missouri, I told him the old story about two little boys in a barn filled with horse shit. One little boy held his nose and screamed, "Disgusting, I'm leaving." He ran out.
The second little boy was so happy.
"Why?" the barn owner asked.
"Well with all this horse shit there has to be a pony in here somewhere."
Our lives are filled with ponies.
Today on our hike we came across the Andorra version.
With all this cowshit there have to be some cows somewhere.