We were somewhere outside Barstow when the markets began to take hold. Suddenly there was huge roar all around us and the markets were filled with what looked like to be a bunch of huge shorts. A voice was screaming "who are these goddamn bears ?". My partner asked " did you say something?" I said, never mind, it's your turn to trade. No point in mentioning these shorts I thought, the poor bastard will see them soon enough. We had 2 coins worth of BTC, 75 coins worth of LTC, 5,000 coins worth of high blotter Stellar, a whole galaxy worth of various shit coins, and a handful of Ether. Not that we needed all these coins for this trade, but once you get locked into a serious crypto collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether short. And I knew we'd get into shorting that rotten stuff pretty soon. There was madness in any direction, at any hour. You could see spikes anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were trading was right, that we were winning. What? No. We can't stop here, this is long country. But after a while you learn to cope with things like seeing your account squeezed with Jamie Dimon crawling up your leg with a knife in his teeth. Most crypto traders can handle this sort of thing. So now, less than two years later, you can go onto a crypto chart, and with the right kind of eyes, you can almost see the high-water mark, that place where the BTC bubble finally broke and rolled back.