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OREGON

 

Around and About in Ashland Oregon August 25 2002

 

The start of this entry has more to do with theatrical criticism than walking in the woods, but it shows a different side of me.  It's about my three days in Ashland waiting for Liz and going to the theatre.

 

Wed 21st Aug  

12am Midnight Ashland Hostel

I managed to get a lot done today.  The best bit was in the library reading what people have written on the message board part of our website.  

 

The good news is that Big Lake Camp will still be open when we get there.  Fannypack found their e-mail addresses and the reply was heartening, thatÕs one problem solved.

 

John and Julie have quit the trail, as have Lee and Anne.  I spoke to Julie at her home in Seattle.  Bushwhacker Mark is staying with her & John for a few days, and IÕm not sure if he intends to return to the PCT.  They'll probably have moved on when we get to Seattle, but Julie gave me the number for her mailing service so I can have boxes sent there.  Glen meanwhile has done a huge inventory of all the stuff we left at his place.  I'm going to reply saying what we'd like where.

 

Ashland is home to the all summer long Shakespeare Festival. My kind of thing. So now you know why I hiked fast to get here. I bought tickets to see Julius Caesar tomorrow night, but Macbeth on Friday is sold out. Teamed up with Jeanie, Bethany and her friend Heela (?) to get half price tickets (an hour before performance) for Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf by Edward Albee.  I studied it at A-level, but I'd never seen this three-hour-two-intermission leviathan of a play in production.  So intense, but a little too long.  Back to the hostel for popcorn and beer. Man this hiking is tough!

 

Thu 22 Aug 

4pm Main Street

A relaxing day, but still got stuff done.  Jeannie was cooking breakfast so I ate with her, then she gave me a ride to Mailboxes Etc. at the far end to town to UPS the first of several packages today.  The rest went from the PO, all Power & Clif bars to supplement what's in the main boxes from Heather.

 

Liz sounded tired when we spoke on the phone.  I think she's had a stressful time at home.  I called the Seattle mailing people John & Julie use, Wanderer's Mail Service (what a good idea!), so we now have somewhere in Seattle to which stuff can be safely shipped knowing it'll be stored.  Now all we have to do is hike another thousand miles!

 

5.20pm Black Sheep Pub

How "Brit abroad" is this?  I'm in an "English Pub" drinking Newcastle Brown on tap!  I'm glad I just ordered a half as it doesn't travel well and they don't have the correct glass, but I'm saying nowt.

 

The plays start at 8.30 pm, but I bought a $4 ticket to the 6.30 preface, a discussion of the major themes of the play, which they do about once a week.  I don't know Caesar all that well so I hope it'll be interesting.

 

7.30pm Green Performance

It was!  And it all came back to me why I like Caesar.  The lack of a "hero" to root for, everyone saying contradictory things, great men but not good men (nearly all men!), a perfect parallel to modern politics.  Murder seems a bit strong, but in those days watching people get ripped apart by lions was considered sport.  Most of all the fickle yet powerful mob.  After CeasarÕs death they want to make Brutus Emperor, but seconds later, moved by the famous speech by Mark Anthony, they want Brutus dead.  Does this fickle mood swing, without responsibility, only remind me of the British tabloid newspapers?

 

IÕve just scored a cut price, front row ticket to tomorrow's sold-out matinee of Macbeth, probably my favourite of Bill's plays.

 

Fri 23 Aug 

7.45am Brother's Restaurant

Caesar was wonderful!  Performed not in togas but in a Mussolini type Italy, with a look somewhere between the two World Wars.  The setting emphasised the political deviousness. Most impressive was the use of the soothsayer, who became a real character throughout the play - Aate, the Greek Goddess of wilful neglect.  Ignore her warnings, and she will be the agent of your misfortune.  She was woven throughout the narrative, including the civil war scenes, to great effect.  Enough Shakespeare.

 

If everything is going to plan, Liz will be sitting in a pressurised metal tube hurtling over the Scottish Western Isles right now.  I have a to finish my next TGO article.  Our deputy editor John Manning wanted me to write about what it felt like to be on a trail so long.  Time and again we've called this trail our "job", and I've heard other PCT hikers do the same.  It requires the same (arguably more) mental discipline to get up every morning before light and start 14 hours of punishing, physical labour.  Of course it's not a real job.  Who pays the amount of money this trip is costing us to go to work!  But it does feel like one, with good days and bad. That's what I'll write about for the October issue.

 

5pm Starbucks

Another nice day in Ashland.  It seems several folk we know have quit.  John & Julie, Anne & Lee, possibly Bushwhacker, and from their internet journals, Pur Boy Alan and possibly Speedhiker Jared, who was in the Sierra with serious tooth ache. Those three weeks in the UK, while anything but pleasurable, may have re-energised me.

 

Todays was a rather different Macbeth production.  Just 6 actors, four of them women who took turns playing different male roles, and performed in the round.  No set, except a circular stage with a circular pool of blood in the middle.  This was splashed regularly across their white costumes.  It was abridged to 2 hours with no intermission so you felt events closing in on Macbeth, but the acting could have been better.  Although it was always clear who was who, those playing multiple parts struggled to reveal any depth of character.  Banquo was OK, but Macbeth wasn't up to the job.  I didn't see the full transition which the man must make, or even detect the fundamental base of Greek tragedy, that the protagonist displays an excess of what in moderation is a virtue.  In Macbeth, it is ambition, and I didn't see the fire of that ambition, stoked by Lady Macbeth, grow in any believable way before Duncan's murder.  And a black Scottish king seemed strange.

 

In Brutus last night, also played by a black actor, I did feel this excess - in his case it appears to be an excessive "love of Rome" which drives him to murder Caesar.  But of course in this play, we never know who is telling the truth as they constantly contradict themselves in different company.  Brutus' noble excess is probably nothing more than words designed to mask his true ambition.  Mark Anthony laid the irony on with a trowel, "Brutus is an honourable man".

 

Pass the soap box.  Jeannie and I were talking about irony the other day.  So many folk, (TV reporters are among the worst culprits!), misuse the word "ironically".  Unfortunate coincidences, such as the stamp collector killed by a pile of mail falling on him, is not ironic. Neither are any of the examples in Alannis Morisette's song of that name, "a dead fly in your Chardonnay, a free ride when you just got paid".  Jeees - time to get out of cultureville and back to the woods!

 

9.15pm Ashland Hostel

Laundry done, food cooked and eaten. Others inside playing guitars, violin and mandolin. I'm on the porch waiting for the taxi bringing my lover to me.  No more entries tonight.

 

10.5pm

Except this one. Liz's here!

 

Sat 24 Aug 

1pm Ashland Co-op

Naturally, Liz is tired from travelling, so we're not going to rush into hiking.  Hela will give us a ride in her truck to Callaghans at 3 pm, where we'll camp and eat.

 

Today it was breakfast at Ashland Cafe then two hours of sorting stuff into boxes.  Another PCT hiker, Dopa, is here too, staying another day - the Ashland vortex effect, sucking in PCT hikers!  We're eating a nice vegetarian lunch (yep, Liz is back!) in this health food supermarket cafe, then we'll stroll around town until it's time for our ride. A gentle start for Liz.

 

7.30pm Callaghans

The plan came together.  Heila drove us to the post office then out here and we set up on their lawn.  Luxurious, green grass - softer than a bed.  We spent an hour or two at a table with Ron and Donna, their singer Ken, and a chap called Bob who ran the PCT ten years ago.  He still runs trails and does PCT maintenance. A great four course meal for two came to $33. Ron and Donna are so welcoming and genuine aim to help hikers. They also have great plans to expand this place. Rooms here start at $65, but that includes a full service breakfast, probably worth about $20.

 

And - coincidence!  Dr David Wilson who treated me in the ER at Yreka was here for dinner with his wife and two daughters. So I introduced myself, he remembered, and came back to say hello to Liz.

 

Liz is already yawning, and I feel tired too, but it'll be weird crawling into our tarptent just below where lots of folk are eating dinner.

 

Sun 25th Aug 

7.20am Callaghans

Thick grass meant heavy dew this morning, the first dampness I've seen on the tarp for ages. We're first in the restaurant for breakfast to polish of a good sized meal before starting. Yes, we really are going to have to start!

 

 

 

Ashland - Crater Lake NP Oregon August 29 2002

 

Sun 25 Aug

7pm Hyatt Lake Resort

We're exactly one week behind the original schedule I drew up for this hike early in the year, which is not bad. Calaghans did a good breakfast but we didn't get hiking until 8.30am, by which time I'd usually have done 6ml.  This section isn't exciting, utilitarian really, as the trail re-aligns itself with the crest of the Cascades, ready to pick up what was the Oregon Skyline Trail. The PCT runs its length. It's pretty dry too, and we've been carrying 3 litres each. Tomorrow looks even drier.

 

In trail miles we did 25ml today, but we took a couple of road short cuts nearing the resort which probably cut that down. We walked in about 5.30, so for he first day, Liz did exceptionally well.

 

The guy who runs the place says he's had a bad season, so he never bothered to open the cafe.  As compensation he generously gave us free camping and hot showers. We could have walked half a mile to another cafe but, since we had a full food box here, we decided to eat our way through it!  We'll still have stuff to throw away, as we're walking faster than anticipated.

 

I picked up an e-mail from our friends Scott & Rachel. Today they're in Portland, but will get their box at Cascade Locks PO tomorrow morning and cross the Columbia River into Washington, a whole State ahead of us. Which is where we'd have been had we not had to head back home.

 

Mon 26 Aug

8pm Wild camped between Lake of the Woods & Highway 140

A cold misty morning was rather nice really, but made it tough to get out of the sleeping bag, especially now I tessellate with Liz. The alarm was ignored, all five of them. Actually, the last one did the trick and we were hiking by 6.20.

 

In the cool we made good time through pretty dull forest. It was only when we hit a 19ml waterless stretch that we slowed. I'd taken a lot of kit & food, and a gallon and a half cut my pace right back. A gallon on Liz had the same effect. We kept going, doing some stretches on logging roads, but it was clear we were not going to make more than 20ml to the Brown Mountain shelter.

 

I hadn't been studying the maps.  At about 18ml we hit Dead Indian Road, and I read about an alternate PCT which went down the road to Lake Of The Woods resort and campgrounds, with a good store and cafe. My stomach was upset all day (I'm running behind bushes every 15min) and the thought of solid food appealed. Plus the Sky Lakes section ahead looked better from this alternate, so we hit the road. After just 3ml of road walkng our feet were very sore, so stuck out a thumb, just to see what would happen.  Cars were rare, but after about thirty minutes (roughtly the fifth car) stopped and drove us the rest of the way.  OK, we cheated.

 

At Lake Of The Woods Resort restaurant, a pedantic menu issue.  Liz wanted a vegi-burger.  The vegi-burger appeared on the Òafternoon menuÓ, not the Òdiunner menuÓ, and they stopped serving the Òafternoon menuÓ at 5pm. It was 5.11pm, and consequently, unavailable.  So we said we'd leave.  The waiter had claimed this huge deviation from the written-in-stone rules of the restaurant was impossible but, we asked nicely, could he go check with the chef?  Sure enough, common sense prevailed.  A vegi-burger could be pulled out of the freezer when the sun passed a certain point in the heavens and the Gods would not smite us down. That episode wasted 10 minutes of everyoneÕs life.  The burgers were pretty good.

 

Walking through the resort campground and neighbouring Aspen Point campground, it was clear they didn't have backpackers spaces. It looked like a $15 per tent kind of place, so we kept walking and before reaching the highway we ducked into the woods.  I'm not sure how far we hiked today but Liz's feet are sore and my "chill" (as my Mum calls the squitters) is making me feel a bit off. Still, tomorrow is another day, in the Sky Lakes Wilderness.

 

Tue 27 Aug 

1.30pm Red Lake, Sky Lakes Wilderness

A rough night.  My stomach kept me running out to the bathroom (well, the trees) every couple of hours so neither of us slept well.  We decided we needed more time in bed (well, sleeping bags) so we weren't walking until after 7am.

 

We took the road route up to Four Mile Lake, and after tea & bars (yes things are much more leisurely with my beloved) started into the Sky Lakes Wilderness on the alternate PCT.  Good for water and more interesting walking.  We've stopped at Red Lake for a 45 min lunch of tortillas and humus, to stock up with a little water, and in a mile we'll rejoin the PCT.

 

5pm Above Wind Lake

We've stopped for dinner, and I have to say, it's good to have Liz cooking again!  She's much better than me. Fresh garlic is being chopped into a pan as I write.

 

Today we've been aware that the trees are talking. No haven't been in the woods too long - the wind is moving them in different ways, many of which produce sounds. And when you're walking amongst them (in Oregon it seems you're ALWAYS among trees) it sounds like distant voices, sighing, moaning, talking. Hmm, perhaps we have been in the woods too long.

 

We recently passed our first Southbound PCT through-hiker. "High Plains Drifter" is his trail name. As we approached we gave him quite a surprise as he hasn't seen anyone for a while.

 

We're just a mile from where we intend to camp tonight, upper Snow Lakes. We had thought about eating there and moving on as it'll just be a 20ml day.  But it looks a good spot on the map and it's 27ml from Mazama Village in Crater Lake National Park. Since we want to arrive there on a morning, we'll just do a little over 20ml tomorrow, and reach into the re-supply place around 9am the next day. Or that's the plan....

 

7.30pm Upper Snow Lake

This really is a very beautiful spot. Tucked below the crest of a ridge, a small lake at 6,700ft, encircled by pine trees which have shed soft pine duff onto the flat ground. Others have found it ideal camping too, as there are signs of an old fire ring which someone has dismantled.  It's hardly "stealth camping" but that's why we ate elsewhere. Our food is in the Ursack, lashed to a tree, booby trapped with branches and the added alarm of a bell which Liz brought out. These bears aren't meant to be like Yosemite bears, and many PCT hikers sleep with their food throughout Oregon & Washington, but we like this added security.

 

We were set up here an hour ago. It really is nice stopping early. No mosquitoes but black and yellow wasp-like things which I've heard called "meat bees".  Although we've not been stung they are incredibly noisy. We retreated to the safety of the excellent Tarptent, leaving them buzzing noisily outside and sometimes dive bombing the walls, trying to burst through the fabric.  My stomach seems to have settled somewhat, so hopefully we're in for a quieter night, insects permitting.

 

It is absolutely wonderful to be back in the back-country with Liz. She calms me down. I'm not racing through this beauty like a solo hiking fool, but appreciating the good bits. If only we had more time for appreciation!

 

Wed 28 Aug 

2.45pm Stuart Falls

We were hiking by 6.30 and as sometimes happens the miles seemed to whiz by today.  We covered 17ml to our afternoon eating spot by 2pm.

 

Along the way we met two women, section hiking Oregon, who passed on some useful info about Crater Lake, such as you're not allowed to hitch (we intended to) but rangers give rides.  And that the legendary buffet starts 5pm. Best of all, it seems the weather and smoke from forest fires are clearing so we should get views of the crater. Like the Grand Canyon, the first impression for many people is reportedly disbelief, as the mind tries to relate what it is seeing to a previous experience. We'll not have to leave it too late, as yesterday and today, at around this time (2.45pm), cloud rolls in. Not a lot, and the shade is welcome, but this way Autumn lies. And with it, rain.  We'll aim to hike 5ml more, leaving us just 3ml to tackle tomorrow.

 

7pm Crater Lake NP, 3ml before campground

Oops, I've just read you're not supposed to wild camp in the park. Oh well, we've been set up for half an hour and with the wasp-ie things buzzing outside (where do they spring from when we show up?) we're going nowhere tonight.

 

My socks stink. I don't mean a regular, healthy sweat but rancid Corsican goats cheese type pong (that's an entirely different story). Last night it was so bad I had to put them in a ziplock bag outside. Before we ate our main meal we washed our feet and put on clean, sweet socks. Two hours later - goats cheese. Why? I suspect it's a reaction between the sweat, the volcanic dust and the shoes. Because truth be told, the shoes whiff too.  But nothing quite like the otherwise wonderful Smartwool socks.

 

Liz has pointed out that, despite bathing a couple of hour ago, her armpits carry a faint yet distinctly similar aroma, and I'm sure I do. All over. So perhaps sweat and this dust do combine in a strange, smelly way. As all the best medical journal submissions conclude, "more research is needed". And in our case, more soap too.

 

Thu 29 Aug 

8.30am Mazama Village, Crater Lake NP

A short walk to Highway 66, then a short road walk to the entrance station. We chatted to the Ranger, casually asking if we could hitch hike, while knowing full well we shouldn't. "Come back here and I'll get on the radio to see if a patrol will run you to the rim", he offered. "We don't make a habit of this, but prefer people don't hitch hike". Sounds good.

 

Showers and laundry are excellent at Mazama village store (fancy me thinking a laundry is excellent!) but no hot food. So we're eating muffins & drinking coffee. Lots of useful e-mails from other PCT hikers and a nice message from Jo & Ali, our good friends back home. This Pocketmail is great.

 

IÕve ordered a replacement valve for my new drinking system after the present one broke.  All I have to do now is order a new shirt, since mine has worn through at both shoulders and looks like dish rag!  Our food and fuel is here. Our clothes are clean, socks de-cheesed, and we're sorting food. Then we'll get a ride to the PO, sort what we need from the bounce box, then go visit this allegedly spectacular crater. Later, crater.

 

 

Thr 29 Aug 

4pm Crater Lake

OK, it's impressive. But I think a little hyperbole slipped into some of the descriptions I read. It's impressive, but on a "wonders of the world" scale would come outside my top forty. Of course it'll look better on a sunny day, clear of smoke from forest fires. "You should have been here yesterday", someone said. Yeah- right. Perhaps tomorrow morning.

 

A park Ranger coming on duty gave us a ride to the Post Office and we caught the post man just before lunch. We spent his lunch hour sorting our bounce box, refilling stuff, putting food in zip-locks from the bounce, then when he opened we sent it on its way to Cascade Locks. It'll be more than two weeks until we see that again. Liz also bought as sheet of stamps with Teddy Bears on them and a fabulous photo of a cub - cuter than the ones we dodge every night.

 

I decided to buy a new shirt to replace my flapping dish rag.  Dealing with REI over the phone was a frustrating experience but we got there in the end. Or at least, when we get to Timberline Lodge, if there's a new ex-officio shirt there, it will have been worth it.

 

Driving to the PO, the Ranger had told us they've already had frosts and rain in the Park, so the fleece and waterproof pants came out of the bounce box.

 

We intend to camp wild so we can get breakfast at the rim before starting tomorrow. But I thought I'd find out about permits, just in case someone asks "where are you camping". At the ranger station they gave us a permit for "Dutton Creek Dispersal", which means as long as we're a mile from the road we can camp anywhere down Dutton Creek. And a mile can be elastic, right?

 

By going to the Ranger Station I also secured for us another ride, this time in a big Ranger Patrol vehicle (flashing lights, speed gun, REAL guns), right up to the rim.  Chatting to James as he drove, and noticing the spare bullet rolling around the dashboard, I asked about the different types of Ranger.  All have the same title, "Ranger" but some, like James, have handguns on their hips.  He explained, "the Rangers with weapons are trained differently to those without". No? Really?  Gosh I hope so!  "The others are tour guides and pen pushers.  Some are fire fighters."  It seems Rangers like James, a former Coast Guard, are trained in rescue, medical emergency and of course, law enforcement. This is Federal land, so they've all been to a Federal Academy.

 

James told us it has been a busy season with several heart attacks in the last week. It seems a lot of folk want to take the boat trip on the lake, and manage to walk DOWN the vertical mile of stairs. Walking back up is when the old ticker lets them know they're not as young as the were. And that's when James and his gun-toting buddies get to shoot them.

 

Or get to carry them out. He probably just feels like putting them out of both their miseries, as it'd be a hot, hard carry.

 

On the rim the gift shop here has little of interest to PCT hikers unless they eat t-shirts (although I nearly bought a hat, until Liz prevailed).

 

Alongside the Llao cafe is a big, self-service formica table type place. The much vaunted All You Can Eat Buffet, allegedly the best on the PCT, is not at the posh lodge as we thought, but above the Llao cafe in The Watchman Restaurant. It's slightly cheaper for vegetarians so Liz is happy.

 

Crater Lake Lodge is wonderfully restored, and we strolled around. Rooms start at $117 and are booked well in advance. Reservations are needed for dinner here, but you can walk in for breakfast. Which is what we intend to do.

 

The All-You-Can-Eat-Buffet at the Watchman Restaurant was pretty good value, but after three soups, a big salad and a couple of main courses I could only manage five deserts and a couple of coffees. $30 for two of us and we were there more than two hours, so decent value.

 

8.20pm 1ml from the road. Ish.

So now we're camped where others have clearly camped before, food up a tree, ten minutes (a FAST mile) from the lodge for breakfast.

 

Fri 30 Aug

2pm North Crater Trail near Highway 138

OK, I was wrong.  First thing this morning, with the sun casting new light on the caldera walls and smoke wreathing Wizzard Island in unearthly splendour, Crater Lake looked like something from Tolkien. Magical, mystical and very beautiful.

 

Humble pie wasn't on Crater Lake Lodge's breakfast menu. A couple of hearty omelettes with potatoes followed by a shared tall stack of blueberry pancakes fixed us ready for the trail.

 

We had a lovely morning, strolling along, stopping every now and again when the mood took us. Just like Spring, it was. I go much slower with Liz, but I enjoyit SO much more.

 

We intended to make it to Diamond Lake Resort tonight, and we're now at the decision point. We'd get a good meal but it's an extra 3ml plus 1000ft down & up to the trail. We have enough food to reach Shelter Cove, and enough water to reach Thielsen Creek camp where we'll eat our mail meal in about 8ml. So we've decided to stick with the PCT and climb up around the flank of the "lightning rod" of the Cascades, Mt Thielsen. No fear of a storm today. Indeed, sadly, no clouds.

 

5.45pm Theilsen Creek

As we finished lunch, two Northbound thru-hikers came past. Seth and Jennifer had hitched a ride past most of the waterless stretch. They started on 29 April and are "going slowly, taking our time", which is a cool way to go. Liz could do that, it's not quite me.

 

We caught them again as they were preparing to go up Mt Thielsen. Now that is a damn fine peak! As we moved around it and down to where we're now eating, its shattered, spine of pinnacles vanishes, and a sheer face rises about the creek.  With scree and lingering snow it looks not unlike the Matterhorn. It's the best looking peak we've seen close up this trip, but a climb will have to wait.

 

7pm Theilsen Creek

We moved less than a quarter of a mile to camp. From the map, the ground ahead looks rough and the contours are too close together to find comfortable camping. Here we've found nice pine duff and we're near water, ready to start a 16ml waterless stretch tomorrow. There's also a big split in the PCT, with the guidebook authors recommending the alternative. I've yet to study it, but I think it looks better and would bring us into our next resupply by Sunday evening.

 

Liz is stretching, keeping her lovely body supple. I'm trying to do the same for my mind by writing. And as the sun goes down, it is starting to get chilly. Autumn is just around the corner. Lets hope winter is some way behind.

 

 

Fri 30 Aug

6pm Nip & Tuck Lakes

Do you think this place was named by a plastic surgeon? Two lakes, side by side, which in the snow melt become one lake, utterly invisible due to the density of mosquitoes. Fortunately, only a few hardy stragglers remain.

 

We saw one Southbound section hiker today, and otherwise no one. It's quiet too, remarkably (worryingly?) few birds. At night there's not a sound. It's quiet - too quiet.

 

The hiker told us he saw a group of PCT hikers on Tuesday, but that's four days ago, which means they're probably eight days ahead. So our wonderful solitude should not be disturbed. Liz is particularly glad about this. Journal readers will know of old her abhorrence of crowds of thru-hikers.

 

Otherwise it was a non-event, one-foot-infront-of-each-other sort of day. We made storming time at the start, starting at late at 7.30 and covering 10ml by 10.30. But then we slowed as Liz's feet started hurting. No huge blisters, but this damn dust is punishing. I've worn a hole in a fairly new pair of Smartwool socks. Grit and sweat make a powerful abrasive.

 

We've had our noodles, beans and tomatoes meal and we're now sipping tea, planning to move on before we camp.

 

8.30pm Bingham Lakes

The mosquitoes are back! We'd heard the next section still suffered from their presence and here, near a lake, they're hanging about. So we went into our wellpractised routine of setting up the Tarptent, Liz sorting inside, while I get water, make tea, hang food and get bitten. Seems to half work.

 

Another month rolls in tomorrow, the fifth time we've seen a first-of-the-month since we started this trail.  And of course, it's September. It's coming up to a year since the attacks on the Pentagon and World Trade Centre. It will be interesting to see how different people mark the passing of this year.

 

Sun 1 Sep 

4pm Shelter Cove Resort

It was so difficult to get out of the sleeping bag this morning. It wasn't too cold outside but so warm inside. I had to take the Tarptent down around Liz, exposing her to the world before she'd shift.

 

"How are you going to get me up in Washington when it's cold and raining? I'll just dive deeper into my sleeping bag", she warned. "I'll get a terrier", I told her, "or a ferret, and send it down the hole".

 

It was quite an easy day, just 16ml to the resort, but we stopped to chat to Nona Rowat and her husband Peter. We'd met Nona near Belden and she'd introduced herself as the "trail host" for Vancouver, giving us her address as a place to stay.

 

Her husband Peter is a neuroscientist, dividing his time between Vancouver and San Diego, but originally hailing from the Black Isle near Inverness. So we had quite a chat about Scotland, chaos theory, tents and their daughters who've just done an amazing ski traverse in winter of the entire BC range. Food drops in lumber camps and by air - quite an achievement. Peter too has quite a climbing pedigree and it was good to chat to him.  We gave them our tea bags (which Peter misses) our granola and alcohol fuel.

 

The store at Shelter Cove is tiny, a poor resupply, although they do have Heet fuel. The $6 PCT camping area isn't up to much, the poorest spot we've had fora while, but the cabins are all full, except one which takes 8 people for $175. No thanks!

 

The shower was expensive - $6 to get us both clean, then $2 to wash and dry the clothes, but it's done. Seth and Jennifer showed up and four of us are on theporch eating, sorting and hanging out. All our boxes are here too, so we can move on first thing tomorrow.

 

 

 

September 14 2002

OK, I hear you.  "What have you guys been doing? It's AGES since your last entry"

Well, this is what happened:

 

1. The Pocketmail battery ran out.

2. We've been so intent on making miles I got out of the Journal habit. It's easier to hike, eat & sleep without writing, so I waited to replace the batteries with spares in our box at Timberline Lodge. Plus

3. I have three article's I had committed to writing. This came first

4. This was all ready to send from Cascade Locks. Then we decided to hike the alternate start via the road, so I thought I'd send it from Stevenson. Then I forgot.

 

Since I knew it would be out of date I have not made the Journal as fulsome as in the past. Hopefully I'll get back into the swing of things now.

 

Mon 2nd Sep

Bobby Lake

Fresh scrambled eggs for breakfast. In the dark! Excellent! Messes up the pan, of course, but well worth it to avoid granola.

 

We have had a positive identification of a huckleberry! We read lots about them in the guide, and of course everyone here knows what they look like. But I had to ask a kid at Shelter Cove who I saw pulling berries of a bush and stuffing them into her mouth. Probably thinks I'm a little daft, not knowing what a huckleberry looks like!

 

We've met another thru-hiker called Miles. However, Miles reckons he's not a proper thru-hiker as he skipped 400ml of trail. He also took two weeks out in San Francisco and is taking it easy.

 

I was thinking this afternoon about the time pressure winter is placing on us, and a line of poetry came into my head. It's from Ode To A Coy Mistress by the British metaphysical poet Andrew Marvel, "but at my back I always hear time's winged chariot drawing near". He probably had no idea he was coining a clichŽ, and summing up the time pressure felt by many PCT hikers, but he was spot on. (Incidentally, this poem is one great chat-up line, as the poet tries to get a reluctant woman into bed. Worth reading boys!)

 

Dinner is mung bean casserole with rice. I'll stop writing because it's almost ready.

 

Moments later

The casserole is superb. And I've just worked ou

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I can't remember what flash of insight took me, because that's where the Pocketmail battery died!

 

Looking back on Oregon I'd say it held long, dull periods in trees interspersed with spectacular mountains. Low points were in interminable conifer corridors and on ankle twisting lava flows which Liz thoroughly hated - actually wanted to be back in the trees! Highlights were Crater Lake (naturally) and all the big mountains, where the huge moraine features reminded us of other big mountain areas we've enjoyed like Alaska, Canada, the Himalaya and Karakorum. The (non-PCT) Eagle Creek descent to Cascade Locks was good too.

 

Now I'm very tired, and Liz is too. We should be excited as we look across the huge Columbia River to Washington. Our last State. Instead I'm strangely numb, like this is now just a job to be done. I wrote words to this effect in my last magazine piece and it's more true now. The Don Whillans approach to climbing mountains - work.

 

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