Alone In The Oregon Woods
It’s Sunday morning. I prepare a cardboard sign to make the hitch out of Ashland to the trail a little easier. Read more
It’s Sunday morning. I prepare a cardboard sign to make the hitch out of Ashland to the trail a little easier. Read more
I am in my big motel bed in Ashland, and am just laying here with pillows under my legs to elevate them.
They hurt.
The only Motel in Etna has no vacancy. It is the 4th of July weekend.
Great.
We could of course camp in the park, but we both are ready for a bed and a proper shower.
My trail family and I seem to have come to the conclusion and general agreement, that there is really no reason to rush at the moment. The slower we hike, the more time does the snow have to melt.
Andy’s dad and his wife drive us further north. So I get to sit a bit more in this enormously gigantic car and be very comfortably driven all the way up.
It is 5.50 am, I eat a Snickers bar for breakfast. Here in the desert you can only eat them in the morning after a cool night. During the day, you would have to deal with Snickers soup.
So the big question is:
“Shall I heave myself and my backpack up Mount Baden-Powell or should I better play safe and take the detour around it?”
Alright… Laying in my tent, it is 5pm! Never made camp so early. But have never been in a PCT storm before either!
Right.
So here I am, sitting on a rock by the trail and weep. The pain in my feet is so bad. Three miles to go still until I reach my next destination, but the pain is too overwhelming.
So yes, the PCT Class 2017 is lucky.
The streams in the desert, which are usually dry, have plenty of water this year.
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