CHAPTER 12 (BURNEY FALLS STATE PARK MILE 1423.5 TO ELK LAKE RESORT MILE 1951.9)
LESSON LEARNED: Include Tyvek in your pack.
Day 120, July 29
Crossing the Britton Dam, I stopped in a clearing above the trail to pluck blackberries from the brambles for a fresh morning snack.
At the Rock Creek crossing, I topped up with water.
Soon after leaving Rock Creek, the trail climbed from 3000’ to 5000’ then stayed at the foot 5000’ level. The path led through stands of forests and a variety of several open logged areas.
In the late afternoon when I stopped at a spring to fill my water bottles and I ran into Yasmin and Robert. I had not seen anyone during the day so I was happy to stop. Yasmin and Robert invited me to stay and camp nearby the spring, but I decided to get in a few more miles.
Shortly afterward, I spotted a single cougar paw print in the dust on the trail. It served as a note of warning. I cautiously looked around but observed nothing dangerous.
Refreshed after my short rest by the spring, I kept up a fast pace on this high flat stretch. Passing quickly along the trail at mile 1444 suddenly, from the thicket, a bear came barreling out grazing my knee almost knocking me over. I screamed.
I scared the bear as much as the bear scared me as it was out of sight within seconds traveling on all fours at a fast pace.
Shook up, I solo camped at mile 1445. The bear was likely many miles away at the speed he was traveling.
I could see Mt. Shasta ahead.
Day 121, July 30
It was wonderful to enjoy breakfast with a sepia view of Mt. Shasta in the early morning light before sunrise.
I started the day high and descended in and out of open logged areas before making it back into the forest once again.
On these long days, alone, it became my habit to sing aloud. I cannot carry a tune. No matter, I was free to belt out any song in my memory as there was no one around to hear.
With surprise, the songs I remembered best were hymns from my youth.
“When through the woods, and forest glades I wander,
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees.
When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur
And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!”
-Carl Gustof Boberg
Toward the end of the day, I ran out of drinking water and was relieved to see a sign for a spring down off the trail. I took the steep cut off down. The water flowed slowly out of the mountainside and trickled down forming a small creek through the rocks. I stooped washing my face in the cold water and poured the refreshing water down my throat. I considered camping but decided to hike onward. I wanted to make it to the Ash Camp Campground. Reluctantly, I slowly made my way back up the steep incline to the trail.
In the growing darkness, it was evident I was not going to make it to my destination unless I hiked with a headlamp. I started looking for a place to stop. I had difficulty finding a suitable flat area as the trail traversed along the side of a steep mountain.
When I found a flat spot at mile 1468, I had difficulty getting my tent up in the tight space, it was at a sharp turn in the trail at Butcherknife Creek. My small tent was right below the waterfall at the creek’s edge. The small opening sloped downward toward the water. Not ideal.
I discovered, after putting up my tent, the area was swarming with carpenter ants. Luckily, my tent kept the pesky ants at bay during the night.
Day 122, July 31
In the early morning, I came out to the McCloud River at the Ash Camp Campground. I made coffee and breakfast seated on a large stump in the dirt parking lot enjoying the morning sunrise. I expected to see other hikers camped here as it was still early in the morning. There were no signs of any other hikers.
A fisherman and his wife camped in an RV were the only other people around. His wife had prepared breakfast burritos, and as I was leaving, the fisherman brought two foil-wrapped burritos over to me. I thanked him profusely. Walking on down the trail I ate the insides of the burritos. It was messy but delicious. I am continually amazed by the generosity of strangers.
After leaving the river, each of the creek crossings were bone dry. At one point, I passed a sign on the trail saying water could be found one mile off trail. I passed up the water as my map indicated water ahead in two miles.
Two miles down the trail there was no sign of water. I hunted all around, breaking through the underbrush. It was wet under the heavy undergrowth, but no running water to capture. I dropped my pack and reluctantly walked back the two miles to the water source I had previously passed up. I could not chance continuing onward without water.
A good deal of my time on the trail was spent planning for, obtaining, and filtering water.
In the afternoon, I came upon another hiker, Ranger Jan. I gladly stopped to talk. I had seen him at Burney Falls State Park, but he had kept his silence.
Ranger Jan said he lived in Michigan where he had been taking care of his elderly parents. When his father died, he decided to take the hike as a respite from caregiving before returning to Michigan to care for his mother.
His hiking buddy had left him behind one day out of Burney Falls. Ranger Jan was a tall man with gray hair and a short gray beard.
We hiked on together, stopping when he needed to massage his feet as he was having feet issues. Because it was a hot day, we took many breaks in the shade which allowed him to rub his feet and me respite from the sun.
When we reached Squaw Valley Creek (mile 1490), we were both hot and sweaty. The creek was deep, wide, clear and cold; swiftly running through a shaded rock lined canyon. We decided to go for a swim and jumped in fully clothed. I did my best to wash dust and sweat from my clothes while swimming around in the refreshingly chilly water.
We called it a day and camped at the edge of the creek stringing our wet clothing on tree limbs to dry overnight.
Day 123, Friday, August 1st
As soon as we made it up out of the canyon, we could smell smoke. Haze from the smoke surrounded us. As I looked up the trail, I could visibly see the hazy smoke but could not tell from which direction it was coming. Sunlight sifted through the smoke and foliage.
Later in the morning, we passed up over a ridge to the other side of a mountain and out of the smoke.
Hiking out of the smoke
It was exciting to look down into the valley below and see Interstate 5 ahead. The semi trucks appeared as ants in a line.
Shortly before arriving at Castella, we passed the 1500 mile marker and stop for photos. I was planning to hitch into Shasta City from Castella. But Ranger Jan had friends from Ashland meeting him in Castella, and they were all planning to camp together at Castle Crags campground and drive into Shasta to shop. He invited me to join them.
Ranger Jan was pleasant to hike with because he was mostly silent. He did not offer up any details unless asked direct questions. His response was always to the point. I prefer hiking in silence making my time with Ranger Jan most pleasant.
When we hiked out to the road at Castella (mile 1506.5), his friends Gary and Wendy were waiting with cold sodas. Gary and Wendy drove a Mercedes Sprinter van customized into a camping RV. This vehicle was fantastic.
Ranger Jan on the right, with his friends Wendy and Gary
I found Gary and Wendy welcoming and friendly. Their outgoing personalities were in stark contrast to Ranger Jan’s quiet nature.
We drove into Shasta City where I was able to purchase two pairs of new socks to replace socks with holes in the toes. During the desert portion of the hike, I learned my feet preferred thin socks for hiking. Luckily I found the preferred biking/running socks by Darn Tough in a small bike shop in Shasta City.
New socks!
Gary and Wendy hosted us to salmon burgers for dinner at the Castle Crags campground.
The campground had a shower, always a welcome perk.
Day 124, Saturday, August 2
After a breakfast of ham and eggs, Gary and Wendy dropped us back to the trail. We faced a five thousand foot gain ahead of us. At intervals, I observed bear scat on the trail. It was the first bear scat I had seen on the trail. I kept a lookout for bears but saw none.
Ranger Jan stayed ahead of me most of the day, and I caught up when he stopped to massage his feet.
It turned into a sweltering climbing up to Castle Crags. The trail wound upward along open rocky areas with the hot sun beat down mercilessly. The trail wound up and then clockwise around the base of Castle Crags with spectacular views. By early afternoon the trail stayed high as it circled around under the top edge of the next ridge counterclockwise.
We came upon twin fawns. The mother eyed us suspiciously and shepherded the babies ahead until she found an escape from the steep trail. We tried not to frighten the babies as Ranger Jan took a video.
Seen just after passing around under the ridge after Castle Crags. I have no idea what this plant is. My PlantSnap Ap called it a California Pitcherplant, but I am not certain this is accurate.
Smoke suddenly rose up ahead of us over the horizon of the ridge and turned the sun blood red. The temperature dropped suddenly under the red sun. We could not see or tell how close the fire was to us.
Ranger Jan and I held a conference on what to do about the fire ahead. We were reluctant to backtrack back down the steep trail to the campground. We had not seen any other hikers and had to consider this section of the trail might have been closed after we left because no other hikers had overtaken us.
As Ranger Jan stopped to phone Wendy to check on the fire situation, I went ahead to find a camp. I came to an open area around large rocks at mile 1524. Dust Bunny was already camped there. I spoke with her a few minutes before I made my own camp below. Ranger Jan soon set up camp nearby.
Wendy was unable to supply any current information on the fire.
After I was in my sleep bag, I discovered I had cell service. I texted my daughter to check the wildfire situation for me. Her report came back, ‘Two Large fires. One behind. One ahead. Surround by six small fires. Get off trail asap.” I texted my reply promising to leave the trail at the first opportunity tomorrow.
I checked the PCT website and saw no updated information on trail closures. It was the weekend and unlikely to have staff in the office available to update the website.
Day 125, Sunday, August 3
In the morning my tent was covered with ash. Dust Bunny was upset and crying. We were aware of the fire closure at Hwy 93, now Dust Bunny told us all her thru hiking friends in Shasta were taking the bus directly to Ashland to avoid the fires.
Despite the bad news, the morning was hazy, but I could see no open fires.
Down the trail a mile or two, I ran into Vocal’s camp. From his campsite, I could see a fire burning in the distance.
Mid-morning I rounded a turn above Gumboot Lake and ran directly into trail magic. Just where the trail met a paved road, a bike fundraising event for a local skating rink was in full swing. The organizers welcomed me with a cold soda and offering to share their food. Ranger Jan was already seated under the tent. Shortly, Vocal and Dust Bunny joined us.
Ranger Jan was already enjoying the trail magic
Vocal
It was a pleasant unexpected break in an area devoid of any signs of smoke or fire. Sitting under the tent on this clear bright sunny morning, forest fires seemed not to exist.
This was the road I had promised my daughter I would exit the trail, however, with no visible signs of fire, I decided to continue onward. Reluctantly, I left the tent to head up Trinity Divide (7620’) and into the valleys beyond.
Ranger Jan arranged for Gary and Wendy to extract us at the Parks Creek Trailhead (mile 1546) at five in the afternoon. At this point, I thought this was unnecessary.
Later in the afternoon I turned a bend and could see a fire to the west of the trail and was immediately overcome with the smell of smoke. Occasionally, I could feel the heat from the fire. The smoke caused me to cough. I could see no firefighters or firefighting equipment. I decided Ranger Jan had made the right decision to arrange the pickup.
Ranger Jan and I were hurrying along when Gary and Wendy unexpectedly surprised us by hiking up the trail to meet us with cans of cold soda.
At the pickup road there was again no sign of smoke or fire. It was very confusing.
It was a dismal drive north on I 5. The border fire left heavy smoke and poor visibility along the freeway. I was disappointed after all the miles hiked not to be able to cross into Oregon from California on the PCT.
Ranger Jan was planning to stay and visit with Gary and Wendy in Ashland for a few days. I would have preferred to have been taken back to the trail north of the fire closure but did not want to ask this of the Gary and Wendy.
There was additionally a forest fire just east of Ashland adding to the dense clouds of smoke in the area. Ashland was flooded with hikers escaping forest fires.
Wendy drove me to Hyatt Lake Resort where I had a resupply package waiting and a room reservation. The small fishing resort was near the Pacific Crest Trail and I would be able to hike out from Hyatt Lake without hitching a ride back to the trail.
Day 126, Monday, August 4
I took a zero at the resort. I was deciding if I should hike sobo (southbound) to the fire closure and then hitch back to Ashland or keep on the trail going northbound. From the posts on the PCT CLASS OF 2014 Facebook page, I could see most everyone was skipping to Ashland and hiking ahead. I could always revisit this section after completing the trail. I napped and watched TV most of the day, depressed over the turn of events. In the end, I decided it was best to keep going north. I was desperate to reach Canada before it began to snow.
Day 127, Tuesday, August 5
Replenished with rest, I hike northward.
In the early morning, I saw a fire camp near the resort with the activity of firefighting equipment and men. It was a comforting to see the firefighting activity after seeing none in California.
The fire just to the east of the trail was now under control. Overnight rain had put out the fires around Ashland and cleared the air. I was looking forward to Crater Lake.
After the ascent into the Rogue River National Forest, the trail became more uniform. I stopped for water at the South Brown Mountain Shelter (mile 1771). The shelter had a hand pump for obtaining water. I sat down at the picnic table and made dinner. Stopped at the cabin was a section hiker with a gigantic heavy pack. He was the only person I saw all day on the trail. He avoided any and all conversation while helping himself generously with the pastries left in the shelter.
I spent the afternoon hiking through jagged lava rock flows occasionally passing through outcroppings of trees. I pitched my tent for the night around mile 1775 in one of the sections of the trail as it passed through a small island of trees surrounded by vast lava rocks.
Day 128, Wednesday, August 6
It was five miles through red lava rocks to Hwy 140 (mile 1780.5). I was not planning to stop at Fish Lake. At the far side of the Hwy was a sign in the middle of the trail:
FIRE BURNING AROUND FOUR MILE LAKE AREA. PCT CLOSED BETWEEN MT MCLOUGHLIN AND COLD SPRINGS JUNCTION. Please contact Klamath Ranger District for information (541) 885-3400.
I turned around and headed for Fish Lake Resort 2 miles West of the PCT for breakfast, hoping to inquire about the status of the closure.
Fish Lake is a small quaint resort with a campground, restaurant, and small store. Unfortunately, I had not written down the phone number from the sign. No one at the resort had information or knowledge of the fire. I stayed and hung out around the lake for a couple of hours waiting to run into other thru-hikers.
Fish Lake Resort was a beautiful break. The restaurant served large portions of decently prepared food. Off the restaurant, a tiny store sold a small selection of items. I purchased extra candy bars to add to my pack.
With nothing resolved, I ate lunch and hiked out planning to call the number when I returned to the closure sign.
Back at the trailhead, I had no cell service. On the sign, there was no fine for entering the area and I noticed the sign was dated 7/28 which meant it was nine days old. Given those two points, I decided to go forward.
All afternoon I could hear and sometimes see helicopters transporting water from Four Mile Lake to the fire. It alleviated my concerns to see all the activity of firefighting going on around me.
I camped on a ridge with a full view of the valley below. At dusk, I could see the fire line approximately a mile below the ridge. Flames could be seen in several areas along the fire line in the darkness. I slept with the fly off to be able to see what was going on around me during the night.
At 2 am I woke to find I was surrounded by thick smoke. Coughing, I got out to have a look. The flames were no longer visible. The heavy smoke may have been caused by the last flames being extinguished at the fire line. Seeing no flames, I went back to bed.
I woke at five in the morning to clear skies and no smell of smoke. A stiff breeze had cleared the air. What a difference a few hours made in air quality.
Day 129, Thursday, August 7
Shortly after starting in the morning I crossed over stones set in the path marking the 1800 mile point. The trail stayed high along a series of ridges with extensive views in all directions. At one point I saw another forest fire burning just west of the PCT.
At lunchtime, I met a hiker named Real Time. It was pleasant to finally run into another hiker. The trail followed along the ridge weaving in and around several mountain tops before finally starting a descent into a large previously burned area.
I camped a few miles short of Crater Lake in the only forested area I came upon after walking through many miles of blackened denuded areas scarred by forest fires.
Day 130, Friday, August 8
In the morning I arrived at Mazama Village south of Crater Lake. Because I had seen so few hikers (only Real Time) on the trail, I was surprised at the number of hikers lounging at the tables in front of the store. Rubiks, Sprinkle, Luna, Crockpot, and Pakabear along with many others were gathered together.
The park had a designated campsite for thru-hikers. I paid, put up my tent and immediately got busy with laundry and a shower. I ate breakfast for lunch at the national park’s restaurant. The restaurant turned out halfway decent breakfast food, something I had not expected.
Day 131, Saturday, August 9
I began the day early with the five-mile climb up to the south rim. The south rim was the last water available on the trail for the next 26 miles. I stopped for juice and water at the café. I loaded my maximum water of four liters. Leaving the cafe to start along the rim, I met Mountain Spice and Moxie who had hitched a ride up from the campground. We visited for a few minutes before I headed on along the rim trail.
As the trail followed the edge of the lake, it was difficult hiking for me. I had to face my very two greatest fears, fear of deep water and fear of heights. At one point, I had to sit on a rock and talk myself into moving forward. There was something very frightening about the trail drop off into the 1,943’ deep lake that took my breath away. I was in no danger, just filled with inexplicable fear and foreboding looking down into the deep blue seemingly bottomless water.
At noon I stopped at a picnic table off trail toward the Rim Road and ate lunch. While I was eating, Pakabear came by and joined me. He sat on the bench and leaned back against the tabletop to take in the sun.
“I was so happy when I reached the halfway point of the PCT,” I mentioned.
He sighed, “It means I will be going back to work soon. I cannot believe the trip is to be over so quickly.”
It was curious to hear him speak of how he felt when he reached the halfway marker. He said he had been disappointed the trip was half over. I had felt only relief and happiness. He felt regret. It was interesting to hear from someone who had the opposite response.
In the afternoon I left the trail for the hike up The Watchman with stunning views of Wizard Island and the lake below.
Shortly after leaving the rim to continue northward, I came upon Rubiks seated on a large piece of Tyvek spread out under a tall evergreen tree in an expansive open grassy area.
“Join me.” He smiled up. There was plenty of room for us both. I took off my pack and laid back on his ground cloth. It was large enough for several people and made the stop pleasant. Note to self, next time bring Tyvek.
I looked up through the tree limbs to the bright blue sky and sighed.
“I never get tired of the hiking. It is so beautiful each day. The camping is growing old. Each night I long to be up and walking again. It’s still exciting to discover what is around the next bend, the view from the next mountain top.
Rubiks laughed, he was seated with his legs crossed, “I am happiest in my sleeping bag. I find it difficult to get up and on the trail in the morning. I don’t let the air out of my pad until I hear the air coming out of everyone’s pad.”
Rubiks took a long draw on his smoke. The sweet smell wafted over me. We spoke of the hikers who had left the trail in Northern California and talked trail gossip. The cross-generational camaraderie was one of the best aspects of hiking the PCT.
At dinnertime, Rubiks and I stopped to eat and then continued onward. We were planning to make it to Thielsen Creek and water.
In Mazama Village, I had heard one of the hikers say he had asked his parents to cache water at Hwy 138. But I did not know for certain how reliable this information might be. What if their idea of supplying water was a gallon? What if the hikers ahead took all available water from the cache? It was not a sure thing. We were mentally prepared to hike into the night to cover the thirty miles.
As darkness fell, I put on my headlamp. Rubiks hiked without a headlamp. He said he could see well enough in the moonlight.
Right before Hwy 138, we found the stash of water, a couple of dozen gallons of water next to the trail a few hundred feet from the highway. A short distance later, we met Rubik’s friends already stopped for the night. Everyone cowboy camped. I put up my tent in the dark. It was late, but it was a relief not to be required to walk the remaining miles to Theilsen Creek.
Day 132, Sunday, August 10
I stopped for a morning break at the Mount Thielsen Trailhead and arrived at Thielsen Creek later in the morning.
Mt. Thielsen
Chipmunk eating the handle of my trekking poles, sweat on handles attracts critters. At night I camped with the handles of my trekking poles under the tent vestibule next to the tent door to avoid my pole grips becoming a salty snack.
In an oddly open flat meadow, I passed the marker for the High Point for the PCT in OR/WA 7560’.
In the afternoon as the trail wound along the edge of a mountain, the trail passed through a combination of extremely tall grand Douglas Fir trees interspersed with four feet tall Douglas Fir trees. The combination of the two extremes in the height of the forest appeared stunning in the filtered afternoon sun. It was one of those special moments. I regretted not taking the time to capture this magical moment with my camera.
Shortly afterward it began to sprinkle fine raindrops. I hurried on.
I arrived at Six Horse Spring around six in the evening. There were many hikers camped there because it was the first water in the sixteen miles since Thielsen Creek. I had trouble finding a space large enough to put my tent. It was a quiet evening as the rain kept everyone inside their respective tents.
Day 133, Monday, August 11
With a long day hiking into Shelter Cove, I started early. I cut off onto the old Oregon Skyline Trail six miles into the day. This is a 20.5 alternate route to Shelter Cove. In the early morning, it was cold and raining. As the morning passed, the clouds cleared, and it was hot again.
Along a large creek near Crescent Lake, I took a lunch break. I should have delayed stopping as just around the corner was Whitefish Horse Camp with tables and water.
I arrived at Shelter Cover (mile 1912) before five having pushed myself to hurry along to make it before the store closed. Unfortunately, the store closed early. I would have to camp and wait until morning for my resupply package. Shelter Cove Resort is a large RV park and fishing destination on the shores of Odell Lake.
When I arrived, the front patio was filled with thru-hikers drinking beer. Someone handed me a bottle of Corona. We were seated on the front patio laughing and talking when the manager came up and warned us off the deck. Hikers were not welcome to hang out there. We were told we had to stay at a small table on the far side of the building.
Off in the forest, the resort had provided a small camping area for thru-hikers at a nightly rate. I got my tent up just as it started to rain. It rained heavily during the night. Realizing it was likely to rain, I had dug a trench around my tent and luckily had no water seepage inside.
Day 134, Tuesday, August 12
It was raining lightly in the morning as I walked over to the store to get my package. I ordered a hot latte to drink while sorted through everything. During my time at Shelter Cove, I saw many of the hikers including Mountain Spice, Moxie, Pakabear, Buttercup, and Luna.
In the gathering of hikers, there was talk about the hikers that had given up and gone home. Everyone who had left had a good reason for leaving the trail. It was then I understand that if you wanted to quit, it was easy to come up with good reason. The reason to keep going was probably a little more difficult to clarify.
It drizzled all morning, I kept an eye on the weather as I showered and washed my clothes and waited for the weather to clear.
In the early afternoon, the sun suddenly appeared. Hurriedly, I said goodbye to Mountain Spice and Moxie before quickly getting underway.
As I crossed Hwy 58 near Willamette Pass, a thunderstorm moved in. Along the trail, I was passed by Buttercup. We stopped and spoke briefly in the rain. As I climbed upward, I was concerned about the lightning strikes. After the brief thunderstorm, it began to rain heavily.
Eight miles after the highway, I saw a cabin through the rain. The water poured off my hat and down my neck under my rain jacket soaking me, I quickly ran toward the cabin.
It was an octagon shaped Nordic ski shelter, Maiden Peak, complete with a front door, windows, and a wood stove.
Inside, to my surprise was Mountain Spice. She had hitched to the highway and had gotten ahead of me. Moxie was there when I arrived but hiked on after warming up. Four thru-hikers plus Mountain Spice and I stayed the night. We built a fire in the stove to dry our clothing and sat up late talking and laughing.
Day 135, Wednesday, August 13
In the morning I was reunited with CatDog. We had lunch together on the shores of Charlton Lake with Pakabear and Mountain Spice.
I sat on the ground leaning my back against a log with Mountain Spice seated next to me. She was slowing eating from a bag of Sour Patch Kids, separating out the blue ones. I ate tuna from a foil packet and munched on crackers.
“What are you doing?” I asked Mountain Spice as she sorted her candy.
“Don’t like the blue ones.” Mountain Spice smiled and looked my way. “Want them?”
Mountain Spice gave me her blue Sour Patch Kids. I was happy to oblige.
As we ate lunch Pakabear related a funny story that kept us entertained and laughing.
In the afternoon the trail passed into Three Sisters Wilderness boundary. It began to sprinkle and a light fog surrounded us.
In early evening it began to rain heavily. CatDog and I stopped at Brahma Lake and erecting our tents just above the lake in the pouring rain.
Day 136, Thursday, August 14
Rained fell heavily all night pounding steadily against my tent. I felt snug and warm in my sleeping bag, safely out of the weather. At about 5 in the morning, the rain let up. I rapidly packed up before the rain could start again and noticed CatDog had already hiked out.
It was a wet morning. It began to rain again shortly after I was underway. In the falling rain with water dripping off my hat, backpack, and clothing I kept a fast pace. My legs, socks, and shoes were soaked from the water off the brush as I hurried along the trail.
Water ran down into my shoes and socks.
Someone forgot to tell Oregon it was August.
It slowly cleared as the day progressed. I started to dry out. At one high point on the trail, I passed CatDog. She discussed her plans to leave the trail at Elk Lake to flip up to Washington and hike southbound into her hometown of Bend.
I took the trail down to Elk Lake Resort and Marina (mile 1951.9). On this day the small restaurant was busy serving burgers and beer to hikers. I enjoyed a beer while waiting for CatDog arrival. I visited with Spirit Fingers and several other hikers seated nearby.
CatDog had arranged for her friend to pick us up and take us to Bend. From Bend, Cat Dog was planning to get a ride and skip up to Snoqualmie Pass near Seattle, hike up to Canada, circle back to Seattle by bus and return to the trail at Snoqualmie Pass before hiking sobo (southbound) back to Bend. In the meantime, she was taking a break in Bend.
Day 137, Friday, August 15
I took a Zero Day in Bend, Oregon.
At the neighborhood laundromat, I ran into Moxie and her friend. The three of us sat outside and talked as we waited on our wash. She asked where I was staying. I said I had found it difficult to find a room and had finally taken a room at a place called the Rainbow Motel. She asked the time I checked in. I said around six because I had stopped at REI with CatDog and she had been held up visiting with co-workers. Moxie told me she had checked there for a room and had been turned away in the middle of the afternoon. She was upset they had turned her away and then rented a room to me. She speculated it was because she was black. Immediately, in my mind, I could see the brightly dressed Middle Eastern woman behind the counter sending her away and imagined how that must have felt for Moxie.
Lucy Ondo 