Awaking in Jen's mother's house a little later than our usual rousings, we set out around
9 am to Ink's Lake, with Jen driving.  Her parents had presented us with T Shirts and resupplied
us with liquids, so the gallons of accumulated water containers could now be dumped out.
  We arrived after a short one-hour tour of the hill country, and checked in.  Once again, no
specific site was reserved for us, and the park was booked solid.  Clients had until 2 pm to
check out, and our assigned space was occupied.  We therefore decided to go hiking, going
roughly 3 miles on some rather rugged trails, mainly due to the rock domes that littered
the landscape.  In spite of the park being packed to it's nearly 250 campsite capacity, we met
very few people on the trails.  I wore my steel-toed boots, as my regular shoes had died at
Lost Maples, so the trip was rather painful for me, as I still had calluses I needed to develop.
  Upon our return, we visited our site again, only to find someone parked and set up in the area,
with a "Site 91" sticker obvious on their windshield.  We asked them to move and they said
they would, so we stopped by the bathrooms to give them time.  Upon our return, we found the
vehicle moved but our campsite still occupied.  When we asked them to move their tent which
was obviously pitched in our spot, they became very angry and said the park ranger had given
them permission to place that there.
  I decided not to start a fight with them and went to see the ranger instead.  They gave us
another spot (As I wasn't anxious to camp next to these people anyway) and said they'd send
someone out to take care of the problem.  Our new spot proved to be better, and we settled
down to lunch without further event.  Charlie's comment was that while backpacking may be exhausting,
one benefit of primitive camping was no "insane people and assholes."  After lunch, we hiked 
down the road to Devil's Waterhole, a small inlet stream through rocks that was popular with 
swimmers.  While none of us were interested in swimming, we did dip our feet.  No one had brought
a camera, so Sparky volunteered to go back for them.
  We waited, and waited some more.  Finally, roughly 30-40 minutes later, Sparky reappeared,
and immediately flew into a funk about Jen's asking him why he was late.  On the rather silent
trip back, I timed the trip and found it to be 12 minutes one way.  So if Sparky was late,
he wasn't greatly so.
  We still had time left before dinner, so we went down the road to Longhorn Caverns, which
Charlie had pointed out earlier.  While we arrived too late for the last tour, we did get some
pictures and located a place for future caving.  While there, we spotted a black-headed squirrel,
but it was too fast and too shy to take a picture of.
  Back at camp, we settled down to a varied dinner of Spam, Chili and Tuna.  We took showers
to spare us the time and volume of people tomorrow and settled down for the final night of
our trip.