…Mark… Why do you even leave the house?  You are the most accident prone, ill fated, dumb luck guy on the planet.  Good thing your name is on the Banner Page, otherwise I might actually worry about you!

So with Mark about to become overcome with Africanized (are we still allowed to say that?) Bees, We are left to wonder, again, where the hell this story is going.  To a “Vanishing Mine” supposedly, filled with gold, we think.  Perhaps it’s time to reflect upon who else might materialize magically in this plot, something that will tie us back to other story lines…  I picture a large yarn-board hanging on the wall in James Allen’s studio…

…the one in the pink chamois-cloth shirt… he’s the wise one…

Run where, Mark?  Your options are slim and none as you are now totally exposed in the desert- no water in which to wade , no car to climb into…

Can you tell the difference?  According to the USDA, the Africanized (or Killer) bee is on the left in this photo…

And the spread throughout the south is well documented, below:

Another  reason, despite the sluggish spring we are experiencing this year,  that I will probably always stay well north of the Mason Dixon line…

What an idiot!  Why don’t you just stick your tongue out and have a taste??

Rarely is it a good idea to immediately follow up “What in the world is that!?” with the immediate use of the touch or taste sense…  Besides, Leola, do you smell with your finger??

In case you all haven’t noticed, I am choosing to let the plot line (or what passes for one) simmer before I weigh in…  As futile as it would be to ram heads (see below) I am continuing to post, just not as often…

The “map?”  You mean the drawing that is representative of some vague geographic features, now being mistaken for a detailed and trustworthy topographic treatment of the area?

Doc, please… that was decades ago, old man.  Although as memory issues start to creep in, it’s often the case that the oldest memories burn brightest while you try to remember what you had for breakfast an hour ago…  And while Mark and Leola are keeping their own counsel (snickering??) is looks like JJ is reading the Sunday sports page.

It’s Doc blowing his nose!  What?!

Sometimes we reach new lows for this strip.  Talk about wasted ink…

I think I could have lived a long and fruitful life never having seen Mark Trail yawn.  Now I can add that to my experiences.  <yawn>

Penniless and bitter?  Who wouldn’t want to emulate that?  Or at least avenge that fate?  I guess JJ took a lesson from history and appears to be making a living off the suckers with the same dreams of getting rich quick!

I wonder who actually offered JJ sympathy… certainly not Mark, who is probably still sullen and distant.

Speaking of gold, if you haven’t watched the Netflix offering “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs” I heartily recommend it…  It’s an anthology of six short films, one of which features a prospector and the process that he uses to actually find gold.  I found that fascinating.  It’s Coen Brothers, too, so that alone makes it worth a watch.

What does Mark have against JJ?  This is not the first withering glance he has delivered…

Now DOC is getting in on the Mark Trail as Cliff Clavin routine… “They, ah, might look like pigs, but they are actually NAUGHT related…”

Well, JJ, your math is fairly accurate at today’s spot price of $1,275 /oz…  as Mark continues to circle him like the Legion of Doom…

Hold on thar, desperado… who ever talked about YOU being cut in on the deal…  You are a contractor, not a principal…

JJ really is a sour-puss, isn’t he… I mean, for a guy in the service industry, he’s a real cuss.

Cha-ching!  What are you charging for guide services?  Providing a quick panning lesson is one thing, but this is actual guiding…

Thanks for the summary, James!  I am sure we all appreciate it when you tidy up the story line and let us know what’s going on…  I think we call that a “re-set” in the business…

Nice gear… Why, those pack straps won’t dig in at all…  And Poor Doc- his bunions are already screaming!  But seriously… it’s about JJ’s nose…  and the look from Mark…  What’s that supposed to mean?

Four Campers, four tents…  that, um, makes sense…

With map in hand, Ol’ JJ has no use for his clients any more…  why, he could just dispatch them and put us all out of our misery…

Odd, but real…

But let’s soldier on, campers.  There is sure to be a mesa-load of manufactured tension right around the corner…

One thing that struck over the last few days, other than the glacial pace of the story, was the introduction of old-school Trail “wildlife” in every strip.   That was a reliable feature of the Dodd/Elrod era.  We seem to be returning to that as we join our characters in mid conversation:

That’s right, Mr. “I know everything about gold and panning for it… that’s why I keep working my little shop- it’s really just a side-hustle to conceal the fact that I have a fortune in Gold stored in the basement!”  YES- WE HAVE A MAP!

Doc, sincerity drips from your craggy face!  How could anyone doubt you??

JJ is keeping his poker face on… but deep down he has a little tingle running up his leg…  I mean, how could he not??

Grooooowl!   Cluccckkukokk!

<yawn>

Oh Leola, or Leona, whatever your name is…

Subtle… very subtle!  Inside a peak?  wouldn’t that be a cave?

Victorio Peak Treasure

Mark’s eyes grow wild (as wild as two dots of india ink can get…) and Leola flashes her baby-blues… while JJ utters the family-friendly version of WTF?!

But fear not (like we were…)

It’s Mr. or Mrs. Ocelot!  Native to these parts…

It appears that the stripe/spot patterns are variable…  Allen has chosen a stripier version to represent this small carinvore, who apparently has sights set on bacon, and not human, for lunch!

As we continue to watch the “excitement” unfolding in the desert southwest, we are reminded of a couple of things…

…that Doc is still fairly spry, Mark is the captain of obvious…

…and James Allen really has trouble writing a story.

That is a most disturbing picture of JJ, from that low angle, but how better to reveal that he is about to be attacked by a misplaced puma(?)…

Bring on Nature!  A herd of Javelinas!

Mark was correct in having everyone take to high ground…  lifting the young and defenseless lass onto the rocks and leaving the old and spry Doc to his own devices…

According to the Wiki, these are also known as Peccary and Skunk Pigs…

By rubbing the tusks together, they can make a chattering noise that warns potential predators to stay away. In recent years in northwestern Bolivia near Madidi National Park, large groups of peccaries have been reported to have seriously injured or killed people.^[10]

I guess the CLUKCLAKCLUKCLUKCLUK is the Aforementioned chattering noise…

Hey there Campers!  We’re back to pick up our story…  It’s been a few days, and it appears that we haven’t made it terribly far…

Yea, and Ol’ JJ is also an expert in separating people with gold fever from their money…  it was said that very few prospectors actually made a go of it, but the outfitters made out like bandits!

…which explains how JJ can afford this lovely six-wheeled conveyance- it ain’t from panning gold, let me tell you!  Foothills of what, may I ask?

Now to add a little authenticity to his schpeel, JJ uses a technical term- arroyo- to describe the gully/gulch they find themselves in… and Mark appears to (finally) be amused…

Oh, now you gone and done it, Doc…

…and apparently Mark has been hiding all his gear up his arse, including a full tripod…  I guess he wants to get in on the picture as well…  While disney inspired sound effects from the underworld emit their low growl…

Now JJ is spouting encyclopaedic drivel about gold and where it resides based on natural phenomenon…  Who asked you?  Seriously?

I know now why Mark was scowling yesterday… Leola and JJ are stealing his show- Mark is the one to man-splain all things nature- only on Sundays- and these two have crossed the line into his territory!  On the weekdays!

As we head through the Sonoran Desert, Leola continues to spout an endless stream of boring, supposedly fact-based non-sequiturs…

Mark and Doc can’t get a word in edgewise, and I am sure that they are wondering what the hell they are doing there…

Yesterday I stared at the store sign and, for the second day gave up… made absolutely no sense to me, and it looked like it was painted by a 6-year-old…  and Leola kept talking, until Doc ventured a suggestion…  Doc, I think they refer that “water-keeping” device as a canteen…  But seriously, I don’t think that they came to pan for gold, they came to find the entrance to the mine!

Mark continues to remain mute, except for his extremely loud nonverbals…  that wicked head turn and continued scowl says it all- why, I bet he knows that JJ Looper, proprietor… At least it explains the sign on the storefront…  Mr. Looper sure looks suspicious, doesn’t he?

The muse ain’t striking…

Leola Wally, huh?

So?

Does this mean Mark is going to lose the dreaded Pink Shirt?

When Leola knew ‘Doc’ Davis, he wasn’t a ‘Doc’ yet…

Think on that, campers…

Meanwhile Mark turns into a Pillar of Salt in the presence of a young, pretty woman…

Really?

OK, Mark doesn’t grow facial hair, so maybe he doesn’t sweat either…

Regardless, I guess we’ll be looking at him this way for the next 6-8 months, so I’d better get over it…