Day 51: Crater Lake!

July 24
24 miles

Knief and REI stop by my tent in the morning and have bought me coffee with all the fixings. I love these hikers.

Kneif and I catch the free trolly up to the Crater rim village, which only takes about 20 minutes, and then we start road walking back to the spot we left from yesterday. We try to hitch a ride, but have been told hitching in the Park is not allowed, so we do it on the sly. A lovely woman pulls over and graciously gives us a ride back to the pit toilets. Ah, the memories.

It's a beautiful, sunny day, without a cloud in the sky, so we are finally able to see the lake in all it's glory!

I can tell Kneif is slowing down his stride to stay close to me, but my legs are still moving at twice the speed of his. We talk about the differences between America and Switzerland, and tell stories about our lives. I like Knief, and I'm glad we seem to be a team for the moment.

When we hit the hills he easily climbs faster than me, but I find him taking breaks, smoking cigarettes, as he waits for me to catch up. It's not a terribly challenging day of hiking, but we only go about 24 miles. At the top of a ridge I check my phone and get two texts and a voicemail from Barrel--he's making sure that I'm okay after having left me yesterday. It's nice to have someone on the trail who's looking out for you, and I find that I miss him, and hope I catch up to him soon.

I meet Knief at our designated camping spot, after having descended down into a small, freezing cold valley. The bugs are terrible and we're both cold, so I mildly suggest we start a fire. Knief takes on the responsibility, which turns out to be quite difficult because of the rain yesterday. After 20 minutes, and great effort, he finally gets the fire going, and somewhat embarrassingly admits he used to be a Boy Scout. I praise the fire, grateful for his boy scouting spirit of not giving up. The smoke drives the Mosquitos away for a bit, and we enjoy hot food and childhood memories.

I'm still not feeling my strongest, so I expect him to hike out much earlier than me in the morning. Such is the story of the hiking life.

Day 50: Crater Lake, oh wait, not really

Day 50
2.5 miles

We wake up to a chilly and overcast day. It had gotten down to 31 degrees in the night, and it isn't forecasted to get above 60 today. What a change when just a few days ago we were hiking through triple digits!

 

We start the hike up and around the rim, and Maniac joins us soon after we start. We see a bit of the lake, but then the fog rolls in so densely that it completely obscures our view of anything but the trail in front of us. The climb is steep and rocky, taking more effort than I had been expecting. So far, this has been the toughest climb in Oregon. We take a break so that I can take off my jacket, having built up a sweat by now, and while we wait another hiker by the name of Kneif (pronounced Neef, because he's Swiss and misspelled Knife) joins us. As we're eating a snack is starts to rain. I put my rain jacket back on, and regret that I don't have my pack cover with me. Barrel gives me a trash bag he has, and we shimmy it over my pack.


The four of us continue on, and suddenly the wind picks up and it becomes a full on downpour. Within a couple of minutes our pants and shoes are soaked with freezing rain, and the wind is stinging our faces. We debate what to do when suddenly we see Knief run to a small shelter. We all run after him, only to discover it's just a pit toilet. The four of us crowd in, ignoring the smell, just glad we're out of the weather. We wait a few minutes until it's clear this won't be ending anytime soon, so we all take off our packs and I sit down on the lid of the toilet. The three guys are around me, when suddenly the door opens and a woman screams at the sight of us. We all hysterically start laughing, wondering what she must be thinking.

The rain is only getting worse, and while I can tell Barrel is anxious to leave, I have no plans to get back out there right now. An hour later and Barrel says we should just go. Maniac and Knief say they're going to stay here for a bit longer to see if it will calm down. I agree, and Barrel looks at me with an "are you sure?" eyebrow raise. I see that he's hesitating, so I tell him to go and that I'll catch up to him. He looks at the guys, asks me again if I'm sure, and then walks into the gale. I hope I can catch up to him.

Another hour passes and the rain calms down a bit, and maniac decides he wants to brave the storm as well. Knief has already decided he's going to hitch back down to Mazama Village and get a ride back up in the morning. Going back down means a shower, getting warm, a and doing laundry, so I'm siding with him. I try to talk maniac into joining us, since I know him more than I know Knief, but he's ready to get back on the trail. And then suddenly there were two.

I find us a ride from a pleasant woman who only feels slightly a sister by me as I run out of the bathroom to ask if they're headed down, and if they'll take us. When we get back to the village 20 minutes later, we run into REI, and decide we got the better end of the deal by coming down. We take piping hot (free!) showers, and do our laundry. I wear my rain jacket and the plastic bag Barrel gave me so that I can wash all of my clothes, and get complimented on my ultralight rain gear fashion. I should sell this to poor saps for a hundred dollars.

We have a lovely day eating, drinking and talking, and Knief and I make plans to hike out together tomorrow, catching the trolly up to the rim at 9am. The storm starts to blow over, and the forecast for tomorrow is sunny and clear.

Day 49: Mazama village--almost Crater Lake

July 22
26 miles

It's 16 more miles to crater lake, and I wake up later than I had planned, but earlier than the last two days. I feel better, not so exhausted and achy as I had the previous days. I haven't had any diarrhea, so I hope my luck holds out.
I write a note for Anna and Lena, but cants remember their names so I address it to Peaches (Anna, because she's from Georgia) and Rodeo (Lena, because she had a straw cowboy hat on). I tell them they are going to crush miles in Oregon, wish them luck, and tell Anna that if she wants to do Washington she should! I mention that I'm getting off trail for a few days, so we might be around the same place when I get back on, and leave my phone number, telling her to keep in touch if she'd like. I leave the note on the side of the trail, hoping they will see it. Trail notes are so much fun.

The morning passes quickly, the only hiccup being when I try to step over a log, catch my foot, catch my trekking poles on the log and my foot, and stumble awkwardly into a face plant. Fortunately there weren't any large rocks or sticks around, so I lay there sprawled out, checking for injuries, and finding none, push myself back up. I see my awkward stumble/skid pattern in the pine needles and dirt, and sort of wish someone had caught that moment on tape.

I make it to a road around 1pm, and realize it's a mile road walk down to Mazama village, where my next resupply awaits. I pass another hiker who tells me Barrel is still there, eating in the restaurant, so I push hard to catch him.

When I walk inside and spot him I become far too excited. I give him a hug, and his hat, only to find that he had just bought a new one ten minutes ago, not having got my text that I had his old one. I rose lunch and eat with him, the two of us taking full advantage of the free refills on soda. He says he's happy I caught up to him, and I agree, and then he tries to talk me into leaving worth him today to hike up to the rim.

I'm dubious, since I wasn't planning on leaving until tomorrow morning after enjoying a hot shower and doing my laundry. He's persuasive, and a couple hours later, after I pick up my resupply and pack everything into my now loaded pack, I agree to leave with him. He tells me it's only 5 miles up to the rim, which actually doesn't sound that bad. We leave around 5, and I'm only slightly regretting my decision not to stay and enjoy the luxury of hot water.
We make good time, falling into easy chatter. After a couple of hours pass we figure we should be getting close, so we check our maps and gps only to find out that we have gone 2.5 miles down the equestrian pct--the only time they ban horses from the pct, having them walk the lower trail around the base of the mountain, never getting a view of crater lake. Our goal is to see the lake, so we turn around and walk the 2.5 miles back to the junction we missed. We sing Beattles songs and talk about shows, and make it back to the junction around 8. We now have a 4 mile climb up to the rim, and know we won't make it there before dark.

The climb is steep and strenuous, another marker of why horses wouldn't be allowed. We climb, our noses practically touching the ground, up and up until we finally come out to the road. Barrel tells me there is also a free trolly that could have taken us up, but what would have been the fun in that? I chuckle and shake my head. It's almost 10 and we still have no idea where we're going to camp, as we wander around what is called the Rim Village. We see a ranger drive past and ask him about camping options, and he tells us that they no longer allow camping up here, but since we're PCT hikers, and if we don't make a fire, we can camp back in the woods where an old campground used to be.

We wander around and finally pick a spot that looks somewhat flat. Turns out there is rock or pavement about a half in under the dirt and pinecone top soil, making it impossible for me to pitch my tent, which is not freestanding and requires stakes.

As I'm sitting in from of my half fallen over tent, contemplating how I'm going to be able to go to sleep and when I'm going to eat, Barrel shines his light on me and laughs. He comes over and squeezes my shoulders and asks how he can help me. I must look like a sad sack. I tell him of my tent problems, and goes and finds some big rocks and a large branch, and we pile them on top of the stakes, hoping the weight will keep the tent up. It's sagging but standing, and I carefully climb in, hoping it doesn't collapse on me in the night.

But we've made it, and tomorrow we finally get to see crater lake!

Day 48: All the Mosquitos you can handle

July 21
23 miles

In the morning I feel worse. I hear Borealis start packing up, but all I can do is roll over and go back to sleep.

I don't get up until 8, and even that is a struggle. Why do I feel so out of it? The mosquitos are even worse this morning, and I am dressed in my pants, rain jacket, bug net and gloves just to keep them at bay. I go to the bathroom, and in the 30 seconds my pants are down I get 7 large bites on my ass. The guidebook for this section had a lovely little note from a former hiker: "passing over the highway we walk straight into a wall of mosquitos. They are worse here than anywhere else in the trail so far. Beware and bring bug spray and a gun to kill yourself." It sounds melodramatic, but it's almost right on point.

It's ten till 9, and I am just starting to break down camp. I hear voices and peak around the trees to see Bear Claw and Dirt Monger. They should be days ahead of me, but Bear Claw was another victim of giardia. I say hello and explain away my late start by how I'm feeling. She offers me three Emergen-C packets, and tells me to put them all in a one life bottle and drink it. I thank them, wish them luck for their wedding in a few days, and finally force myself to finish packing up. It's at least 16 miles until the next water, so my pack is loaded down with water, and I start my slow trek northward.

A half mile away and I realize I left my sunglasses back at camp. I debate the merits of going back or just continuing on. I decide to go back, and save my eyes the strain of days in full sun. I leave my pack my the trail and try to hurry back to camp, aware of how much later this makes me. I find my glasses, and say hi to an older woman is getting water at the spring.
Pack on and back on my way, I realize it's going to be an even slower day. I take a break on a log a mile down the trail, and the old woman, who's name is Why Not, catches up to me. She asks what's wrong, and when I give her my symptoms she tells me that when she had giardia it started with three days of intense exhaustion, followed by the diarrhea. Uh. Crap.

Dirt Monger told me that Crater Lake has medical facilities, so if anything is seriously wrong, that's where I want to be. I push on, wanting to get there as soon as possible, just in case.
I lag, I break, I snack. I keep my beekeeping outfit on most of the day, taking off my rain jacket only during the heat of the day.
The strangest thing happens as I'm walking along the forested trail. Out of the corner of my eye I see something small and spotted creep over a log toward me, and for a jolting moment I think it's a bobcat. It turns out to be a small fawn, and it starts running up the hill toward me. It stops less than a foot away from me, and I almost reach out to pet it, saying "where's your momma?" As soon as I speak it stops, stares at me, then turns around and takes off running into the woods. I look around and see a doe not too far away, but in the opposite direction the fawn ran. I'm confused, and think that maybe I smell even worse than I thought if the animals mistake me for something other than human.

I get service on the top of a peak and send Borealis a birthday message.

The day starts to cool off around 5, and again I start to feel better. I want to do 8 more miles to get to a flat campsite, so I push hard all the way down the peak. I come to a stream three miles later, the last one before crater lake, and see two girls around my age also getting water.
We are both thrilled to see other female hikers, so we talk and introduce ourselves. Their names are Anna and Lena, and they are from Georgia and Brooklyn, respectively. They both worked in Bend at a youth center, but are going separate ways, and decided to thru hike Oregon before leaving.
I talk to Anna as Lena gets water, and she tells me she's considering continuing on and doing Washington by herself when Lena has to leave, but is nervous to go solo. She compliments me on my bravery, and is so nice that immediately I think we could be friends. They tell me Barrel passed them this morning, but left his hat behind, so I take it, hoping I can catch him at Crater lake.
I ask if the girls are going to go to the campsite 5 miles up, but they just started a few days ago, and give more miles this late in the evening sounds tough. I say my goodbyes and head off, hoping to reach the site before dark.
It starts to sprinkle just as I come up from a hill and see the flat piece of land I was aiming for. I set up my tent and jump inside just as it starts to downpour.
This is the first time it's rained on my tent, and I enjoy listening to the patter of the drops, and go to sleep hoping I see some friends when I get into crater lake tomorrow.

Day 47: mysterious hiker illness

July 20
22 miles

I wake up feeling drugged. I'm achy and have no desire to get up and walk. I know I'm the last one up at 6:40, but I don't care. I can tell Barrel is waiting for me, and he asks if I need any water jugs filled from the pump well. I thank him and hand him one of my liter bottles, wishing I had to energy to get up and leave with him. He brings back the bottle and I tell him I'll meet him down the trail.

I leave an hour later, not feeling any better. It's not that anything feels particularly wrong, it's just that I'm so exhausted walking for anything longer than a half hour is brutal. I take break after break, nodding off in my hands before I even realize I'm falling asleep. What the hell is wrong?!

I hit the lava fields, which are cool for about ten minutes, then I have to self talk my way through the fields, out of the sun, and then slouch, exhausted, against a rock. I think about taking a nap, but am worried I'll sleep for hours and it will throw off my schedule. I decide to call my mom and my friend Liz, hoping that talking to them will give me an energy boost. It works for a while and I make it to a stream around 2, only ten miles into my day.

I relax in the shade, wash my shirt out in the stream, and drink a liter an a half of water. I've been staying well hydrated, but just in case my exhaustion is due to not having enough water, I make sure to saturate myself.
Off the side of the trail I see a small styrofoam cooler that says Trail Magic. I open the lid to find some plums, oranges, a couple of small tomatoes, and some apple juice juiceboxes. I take a juice box, plum and tomato, feeling starved for fresh anything.

I relax by the river for about an hour, not quite sleeping, but in the half state of consciousness.  I leave the stream, struggle for another two hours, and then around 5pm start to feel a bit better. I pick up my pace and come to what will be the last water source for 16 miles. It's 7:30, and I've gone 22 miles, and I feel like I need to end my day.

The Mosquitos are out in devilish numbers, and I work to set up my tent as fast as I can. I make food in my tent, not feeling hungry, but forcing it down.

It gets dark, and of course, having been exhausted all day, I'm not tired enough to sleep. I turn on my audio book and soon hear someone yelling "Hello?" I can tell by the voice that it's Borealis and I shout to him to come over. I'm surprised that he was so far behind me, and he tells me he went into a small resort town for about 6 hours today because he felt so tired. I sympathize with him and we wonder if we're sick.

He sets up his tent among the swarms of Mosquitos, and we talk about how his birthday is tomorrow, and that he wants to do a big day into Crater Lake for his birthday. I wish him happy birthday, and tell him if I feel better I'll hike out with him in the morning. Blegh.

Day 46: 31 miles of smiles

July 19
31 miles

The Scotts and Chip are awake when I get up, and I chat with them a bit as I break down camp. They tell me there is a nice shelter down the way that I should stay at, and when I check the map I realize it's 34 miles from here. That would be my longest day so far, but I make the decision to try and shoot for it. I say my goodbyes, and they ask if they can be my Facebook friends and follow my journey--of course! :)

I make 8 miles by 10:30, and get a text from Borealis that he hitched to a breakfast restaurant 2 miles off trail and that I should join him. I have no idea when he sent the text, but I decide to get a ride down there anyway, assuming I'm not going to make my 34 mile goal anyway.
I try for a while to get a hitch--a fancy sport car being the only car that drives by. I decide to just keep going, and just as I start to cross the road, the sports car comes back. The guy rolls down his window and says if I have a couple if dollars he'll drive me. I tell him I'm only trying to go a couple miles down the road, but I'll just get back on the trail.
He tells me he'll drive me anyway, and gets out to open the trunk to put my trekking poles in. The car is a two door, tiny thing, and it's crammed with camera equipment. He tells me he's on his way to shoot a wedding, and there isn't much room in the car, so I cram myself in, with my pack on my lap.
I can't really reach my seatbelt, so I leave it off, but soon the car starts beeping, and I have to awkwardly grab the belt, pulling little by little to get it around me.
He drops me off at the restaurant, but it's clear that Borealis has already left. I order a sandwich, and they tell me they give a free beer to hikers. It's still morning, but I can't pass up something free, so I order their lightest beer with green olives--Minnesota style!

I notice that no cars have gone past, heading back to the trail, and I realize it's going to be a difficult hitch back. I check my maps and notice that if I walk up the road 4 miles, it'll cross the trail, cutting off only about 3 trail miles. I decide this is my best option and head on my way.

Two older guys pick me up and give me a lift for the last mile, and as I'm filling up my water at the campground, I see Barrel walking towards me. I figured he was long past, but he says he got a late start and hasn't been going very fast. It's 20 more miles to the cabin and we decide to push for it. I suddenly have a craving for ice cream and wish we were closer to a town. A couple if hours later, we hear someone yell out to us. We pause, and I'm about to keep hiking when barrel turns around and goes back. Out of the trees emerges a sinewy old man, wearing nothing but a loin cloth, asking us if we want some trail magic. It was just as creepy as it sounds. I'm not sure what I would have done if I was alone, but having Barrel there bolsters my courage, and after the man introduces himself as Coppertone, Barrel recognizes this as legit trail magic. The guy leads us through the woods out onto a dirt road where his camper van is parked, and brings us out bananas and cookies while he makes us rootbeer floats. It is magical. He uses strawberry icecream, and I think I'm in heaven. Coppertone tells us he was just about to pack up when he heard us come walking by. He tells us he's headed up to Bend and then on to climb Mt Hood. We thank him and wish him well, and leave with full bellies and happy hearts.

The twenty miles goes fast with a new hiking partner, and we end up sharing stories about our lives, getting to know each other well by the time we reach the cabin. I realize I've done 31 miles today and I am ecstatic. Borealis shows up an hour after us, playfully giving me shit for the miles I hitched and the trail miles I cut out.
We meet another female hiker my age, Alpaca, and her dad, who's joining her for a couple days. Shredder is also at the camp, going slowly because he's feeing ill. Alpaca pulls out a wooden flute, and her and shredder jam out. They sound like a real band, and we all hang out for a bit, drinking Borealis' expensive whiskey and enjoying the company.

I feel tired but happy, and go to bed with plans for big mile days ahead.

Day 45: leaving Ashland

July 18
8 miles

Borealis and I are the last ones to leave Callahan's. He takes a nap, and I spend the time updating my blog, and suddenly it's 5pm. It's a 2 miles road walk to get back to the trail, so we decide to only go to the first water source today, about 10 miles out.
Waiting for Borealis in the lobby, I realize my water filter is missing. I check my entire pack, and come up empty handed. Shit. I still have some chlorine drops, and I hope they'll last me until crater lake.
And older man comes up to me and asks if I'm getting back on the trail, and tells me to go put my bag by his car and he'll drive me up. I thanks him, but tell him we're planning to walk. He gives me a questioning look and says what will take me an hour will only take him 5 minutes, and he gives rides to all the hikers. Borealis is insistent on walking the road, but I take the guy up on his offer, telling Borealis I'll see him at the next water.

It's a nice hike, and I pass by Pilot Rock and try to snap a selfie, but it isn't very impressive--the problem with walking by yourself.

I almost step on a snake that is stretched across the road, looking too much like a stick. It doesn't move, and I'm pretty sure it's dead. I nudge it with my trekking pole, and nothing. I'm about to step over it when it quickly coils up, looking about to strike. It scares the crap out of me, even though I know it's not poisonous. I take a picture and wait until it slowly slithers off the trail.

In 8 miles I come to the spring, just as it nears 8pm. I see three guys standing by the spring, and can immediately tell they aren't through hikers. I would think nothing about approaching 3 pct guys, but I'm a little more hesitant about day hikers. I know Borealis probably isn't too far behind, so I walk down. The guys look to be in their 40s, and as soon as I approach they offer me filtered water that they got from the spring. I tell them that would be great because I just lost my filter, and they next thing I know one of the guys hands me a filter. The upgrades version of the one I lost. I tell him I can't take it, but he insists, and I know I have nothing to worry about from these guys.
They ask me all sorts of questions about the PCT, telling me they are just doing a section of Oregon, but would love to do the whole thing one day. Half an hour later Borealis shows up and tells me he thought we were going another 2 miles to the next water--he tries to persuade me to go, but I've already taken off my pack, made friends, and don't feel like hiking in the dark. He continues on, and I spend the rest of the night, chatting with Scott, Scott and Chip, sitting around their fire and enjoying all the filtered water I can drink.

Day 44: Ashland, OR

I love the Pacific Northwest.

We drive back from the coast, stopping for breakfast, and to take a short hike among the Redwoods.

We drop Mountain Goat back off at her hotel because she has resupply boxes to make up for the rest of the hike, and she's worried about time. The four of us drive back to the rental car office, and try to decide if we should all go back to Callahan's and camp on the lawn, or rent a hotel in Ashland for the night.

After much calling around to different hotels, we decide it will be more entertaining to split a room and hang out downtown, perhaps catching a play, as we're right in the middle of the Ashland Shakespeare festival.  Ashland is really great town of about 20,000. It has some great restaurants, and hip bars, and the people are friendly and welcoming. We end up grabbing happy hour and meeting a couple who tell us we need to check out a band (St. Cinder) at the Lounge tonight. It ends up being one of the best shows I've been to in ages (even pre trail), and the music is great. We dance the night away, and it is amazing. We walk back to the hotel around 10:30, trying to get a decent amount of sleep since we're all planning on getting back on the trail tomorrow.

The next morning we head to Morning Glory, for the best breakfast of our lives. Seriously. Check out the menu.

Back at Callahan's, and we repack all of our new food, trying to get ready for the next 100 mile section, still feeling the seducing pull of Ashland. I'll be back, I tell myself.

Day 42: A personal best

July 16
16 miles

I'm not in a huge hurry today. I decide I'll get into Callahan's in the early afternoon, collect the free beer they give to PCT hikers, take a shower and do my laundry, and then set up my ten on their lawn and wait for dinner to enjoy their all you can eat hiker spaghetti dinner. This all sounds so perfect I can't wait.

On the off chance that Borealis is going to the coast tomorrow, I text him and tell him how far away I am and to let me know when he's leaving. I make my way closer and closer, enjoying some trail magic around mid morning.

I slam a Sprite, having been dreaming about it since I ran into a SoBo hiker the other day who told me about this trail magic. I think about drinking another one, but decide I should save it for the other hikers behind me. I'm almost to town, and then can have anything I want!

By noon I make it to the little rest area, still about 5.5 miles from Callahan's.  I check my phone and see that I have a text from Borealis. He says he's renting the car today, and the guy is picking him up, and can I get there by 1pm? There is no way I can do 5.5 miles in an hour, so I tell him I'm still 2 hours out and to enjoy the coast. He tells me he'll change the pick up time to 1:30pm, if I can make it down in time. I consider my options--a relaxing day at Callahan's, or a sprint to get down there and go to the coast. I remind myself that this trip has become a reminder not to pass up opportunities. I decide to try and make it there in time, and tell him I'm on my way.

I bypass the lunch I was going to eat, slam some water, change out of my sandals into my trail runners, and start booking it. I'm alternating between a run and a fast walk, and I feel the heat of the day beating down on me. I do almost 3 miles in 40 minutes, with an almost 30 pound pack, in the middle of the day. But I'm still not sure if I can make it in time. My legs are sore, especially my right leg, which has been causing my problems lately, and I'm sweating and breathing hard, but soon I get to the little Callahan's sign pointing to a side trail. I take this down the mountain and end up at a little shanty town by some train tracks.

It's a short road walk down the highway to get to Callahan's, and I call Borealis to make sure I've made it in time. He tells me that he couldn't change the pick up time, but that he's coming back to Callahan's to get me, and another hiker we know, Barrel. I just did 5.5 miles in an hour and a half, which is my new personal best!







I walk into Callahan's, sweaty and covered in dirt, and go up to the hiker room to wait with Barrel. When I walk in I see Coughee, a hiker I met in Sierra City, who I never thought I would see again! Turns out he contracted Giardia, and has been in Ashland for 8 days. This is the first day he's feeling better, and we talk him into going to the coast with us. We get a hold of Mountain Goat, and talk her into joining us, as well, and we drive into Ashland to pick her up and do some errands before we head out.





I take a shower in the tiny motel room that MG is sharing with Happy pants, Goat and Shredder, and have to scrape the dirt off of my arms and legs with my finger nails. When the water drains there is a dirt ring around the tub, and I feel simultaneously embarrassed and proud--this is definite proof of my hiker status.

Feeling slightly cleaner, having quickly rinsed out my shirt, and a little less smelly, we all cram into the rented Ford Focus and head on our way! We take quite a few detours to get to the coast, stopping at REI so Borealis can exchange some gear; eating at Chipotle (!!); and getting some booze at the liquor store.

I've decided to get this as my new backpacking tent. It might not be ultralight, but it has room for a party! :)

After our roundabout journey, we finally arrive at a great beach location called Clifford Kampf memorial state park. We are technically in California, 4 miles from the Oregon border, because of the roads we had to take to get here, but it is as beautiful as I imagined.

We set up camp on a grassy spot, overlooking the ocean, and we sit there in awe watching the sun sink into the water. Borealis bought a bottle of his favorite Scotch for $120 (on sale) to celebrate his upcoming birthday, and we all enjoy a nice nip, amazed that this is our life.

We order pizza, and make friends with the 7 year old son of the camp caretakers, Alex Zander (two words), and we spend the next couple of hours hanging out on the beach, watching the sun set, and laughing with Alex. Coughee is great with the kid, and Alex takes an immediate liking back.  I tell him I'm from Minnesota, and he asks if that's why I like to drink Soda, and we laugh and laugh. I hope that if I ever have kids, they are as awesome as this one. He goes back home when it's dark, telling us that his dad will make us breakfast in the morning. He's forgotten all of our trail names, except for Coughee's, and he waves goodbye as he runs home. I don't think we'll see him in the morning, and I think Coughee and I feel sad about not getting to spend more time with this cool little kid.

S'mores are made, beers are drunk, and we stay up late into the night talking and watching the fire. Barrel and I are the last to go to bed. We talk about love and how whether it's possible for humans, who are innately selfish beings, to really love each other, when love is ultimately unselfish. We commiserate that one person always loves more than the other person, and suddenly we realize that we are too drunk to have existential conversations. We head to our tents, and I can't remember the last time I was up past midnight.  I've almost forgotten that earlier today I hiked 16 miles, and I realize what a long and amazing day it's been, and I drift to sleep with the smell of salt and the sound of the Ocean. Maybe I'll move here after the trail.

Day 41: OREGON!

July 15
23 miles

Today I know I'm going to cross the border into Oregon. It's only 13 miles from my campsite this morning, and I'm hoping to be there around lunch time and really soak it in. That I will have walked from one state into another state. I'm hoping that crossing over into Oregon will be a turning point in the journey--visually and mentally; a little moral boost to push through the next leg.

Those first 13 miles pass fairly quickly. I take pictures of the last of California, and when I pass by little stone monuments, I stop to add my own stone. I was here. I did this.

I pass by a shack out in the middle of nowhere, and think how amazing and difficult it would have been to live here. I wonder about the people who built the house, and what happened to them, and if they were happy. I walk on, anxious to cross into Oregon.

Just as 1pm rolls around, I see the post announcing the crossover into Oregon. I take a serious of pictures, trying to capture my mood at this exact moment: awe, excitement, elation.
I sit in the shade and enjoy my lunch. Mulberry passes me again, stopping for only a couple of minutes to write in the trail register, before he moves on. Maybe I was too excited to reach this milestone, but it feels pretty awesome.

I head on, 10 more miles left to do before the day ends, carrying my happiness with me into Oregon, which looks much the same as California (unsurprisingly), but feels significant every time I remind myself I'm now in a new state.

I pick up a hitch hiker on my to Sheep Camp Spring, and I decide it would be bad luck to remove it before I get there.

And yes, that is dirt covering my legs. It's a dusty, dusty, trail life.


I get to Sheep Camp Spring, which is a pipe stuck into the ground, spitting out clear clean water, and decide to eat another lunch and relax in the shade. A guy from the forest service drives up in his truck to collect some water, as well, and he tells me a guy from the Yukon and a girl from Virginia (Borealis and Mountain Goat!) are a few miles ahead of me, and he had to give them water because they were running out. I think about trying to catch up to them, but it is in the high 90s, even up here in the mountains, and it seems easier to just rest in the shade for a couple of hours before moving on. I'll catch them in town.

I head back down into the trees for a little while, and even though I know it's probably just in my mind, it seems greener in the Oregon forests.  Perhaps this means more water from here on?!

I see a fallen tree, and can't help but think it looks like a creature from Narnia, frozen in time, in mid meal.


I intend to do 28 miles today, but at 23 I see a large campsite that Mulberry is pitchin:g his tent in, and I decide to end at 6:30 instead of doing my now normal 8:30. We chat for a bit; I take my time getting dinner ready and enjoying the extra hours of daylight downtime I haven't usually been getting.
It's 16 more miles into Callahan's Lodge, which is a short distance from Ashland, OR. Even though everyone has talked about going into Ashland, and how cool the town is, I decide I probably won't venture in, and will just get back on the trail the next day.  Borealis was talking about renting a car and driving to the Oregon coast for the day, which would be cool, but I have a feeling I won't make it into town before he leaves. Alas.