I made it out of South Lake Tahoe and am in Truckee at a place called Pooh's Corner.
While at South Lake Tahoe I had a craving for fruit so I bought a bunch of fruit, including a ripe melon, and had a feast of fruit. I cut the melon with my probably very dirty pocket knife. I couldn't eat the whole melon so I saved it in my hotel room for later. I ate another piece of the melon in the evening and then spent the whole night vomiting and having intense intestinal issues. It was awful and all my fault.
Some other hikers at the hotel had worn out the hiker welcome by drinking and putting too many people in the room and sneaking in a dog so the hotel owners seemed to be trying to phase out the hikers. I begged them to let me stay another night. They allowed it.
During my extra rest day I tried to take a walk to the Internet cafe and on the way back in the hot sun I had to rest about 5 times. One of those times an ambulance went by with lights flashing and stopped to ask me if I was the one who called. I must have looked pretty bad.
The next morning I felt much better so I went to breakfast. After breakfast I attempted to hitchhike back to the trail. There were other hikers inside the cafe so I went back in to see if they already had a ride. They did but there was no room for me. Just then a man came to the table to offer me a ride, so back to the trail I went. Yay! Trail magic for me!
The trail was really hard to walk on but I was glad it wasn't hilly. It was full of loose cobbles and "klinkers". I walked very slowly and hoped my breakfast would stay down. The mosquitos were awful. I could not stop to rest or they would swarm me.
Aloha Lake was pretty. So was heather-fringed Susie Lake. I climbed Dicks Pass and descended down to Dicks Lake, the prettiest lake I think I've seen yet. I really should have gone for a swim, but I still felt clean from the million showers I took in my hotel. That clean feeling didn't last long because soon it became very humid.
By the end of the day I had hiked 21 miles and slept in the most mosquito-unblessed spot I could find. I still had to put on layers and a headnet to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Sunset was deep red with all the smoke in the air. The moon was blood red in the night, too. The air was choking with smoke. Cough cough.
The following day, July 11, I walked through very dense forest. It was pretty but buggy. Then the trail took me up to a ridge and I walked along this interesting volcanic ridge for miles and miles. Along the way I bumped into Nitro Joe again now hiking with his son.
My feet were getting really really sore. Excruciating. At one point I changed into my Crocs and hiked in those instead. When I reached a nice cold creek I soaked my feet until they ached so bad I had to yell out loud. I took all the insoles out of my shoes and put them back on. I got a few more miles out of my feet that way. In fact, it seemed to feel pretty good with no insoles.
I camped in a rocky spot near the Tevis Cup trail after walking past tons of pretty flowers, including some white lilies that smelled as good as the Casa Blanca lilies I used to sell when I worked at a flower shop. I could hear voices near my campsite but I never saw anybody. Before I made camp I knew that Nitro Joe and Al (All Hat No Cattle) were nearby. It was a hot night. I could barely tolerate my sleeping bag. Thankfully the mosquitos were absent and I could go outside in the middle of the night with bare skin.
In the morning, July 12, I packed up early as usual and set off. The trail took me up Tinker's Knob, which apparently is a popular day hike or run. The ridge walk after Tinker's Knob was fantastic. I had great views and it really felt like I was walking a knife edge at one point.
I saw a lot of runners and day hikers. At one point as I was coming down I could see a large group of people. I fantasized that it was another impromptu party waiting for me to cook me pancakes and hand me a cold drink. Alas it was just a group of developmentally disabled adults with the hugest backpacks ever. I wished I could stop and teach their minders a thing or two about packing a little lighter.
After descending from the ridge, the trail started to become pointless. It seemed to go up and down and switchback all over the place.
The trail descended to Highway 40 where I thought maybe there might be a place to buy a sandwich. Just the thought of sandwiches made me get really hungry. There were no sandwiches there. So I ate an apple and watched rock climbers freaking out because there was a snake in one of their handholds.
Then I put on my umbrella because the unbearable heat and humidity had descended and I had to do some more pointless climbing. Up and down and round and round the trail seemed to go. My feet were killing me. After I passed under Interstate 80 through a tunnel I saw a sign posted with a phone number for Pooh's Corner.
Hiking the trail really isn't that hard. You just put on a backpack and go. But I still cry with a strange sense of relief whenever I find little trail magic things like this. It seemed I ought to call and rest my feet a bit. I had hiked "only" 17 miles and it had felt like 30.
Bill and Molly are the angels of Pooh's Corner and Pooh's Corner is their house on Donner Lake. They pick up hikers and feed them. Real food. Home-cooked. Not pizza and burgers and restaurant food. It's sooooo good. Time to rest a little before the next stretch from I 80 to Quincy-La Porte road where my mom can pick me up. There is a big fire and the trail is closed from Quincy-La Porte road to Highway 36.
See you down the trail.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
The hike is different now
Tony drove me up to Sonora Pass. The drive up was stark and beautiful with wide open meadows and sage brush expanses. As we climbed Highway 108 in the SUV I kept remarking how beautiful and different the scenery was.
We parked in the trailhead parking lot. There were many people out enjoying the July 4th time off. Lots of photographers were taking pictures of the wildflowers. Oh, the wildflowers!
I threw my stuff together super quickly. Since the 4th of July closed the Post Office, I was not able to get my bounce bucket so I ended up buying a whole new guide book. Since I couldn't mail home unneeded sections I had to carry the whole thing with me. The weight's not so bad, but I anticipated a lot of remarks about lugging the whole book from other hikers, if I should meet them. And I did get lots of remarks about it.
I also bought some new shoes. The La Sportiva ones gave me blisters on top of my toes and they just made my whole foot ache. I think I can fix that when I get home. My new shoes are Montrail. Same kind of shoe: mesh and kind of like a running shoe. They made my feet ache, too. But I've now bought some gel insoles. I might even buy another layer so I can walk on gel clouds.
I cried when I had to say good-bye to Tony. I really didn't want to be alone again. Maybe I'd never see another living soul again. Maybe I'd hate every minute of my hike like I did by the time I gave up near Bishop Pass. Tony didn't cry. I think he was anxious to make the long drive home and worried about the big fire in Goleta.
I set off to climb my last 10,000+ft mountain. The climb was easy. The trail was smooth. I felt like the trail was going to be kind to me. A trail crew had even chopped steps and fresh trail through the snow patches. I thanked them when they went by.
The scenery was amazing. All around me were volcanic mountains of reddish black layers with patches of snow, and wildflowers bloomed in garden-like patches all around me. I was constantly amazed how different and beautiful it was from the High Sierras and their granite domes and within an hour I felt no more sadness for being alone. Instead I felt so lucky to be out here and so glad I decided to continue. If I could recommend any section to do, Section J would be it. It was the most beautiful so far.
I crested the mountain and dropped to the other side. Along the way I met Nimble Will Nomad, accidentally mistaking him for Billy Goat. I first met him on Fuller Ridge near Idyllwild. He's an older man all white and bearded who carries almost nothing on his back. He was hiking Southbound to spare his knees. Looking back I'm not sure what he was sparing them from. The trail in Section J constantly goes up and down, crunching your knees all the time.
I made camp after about 10 miles in a spot I hoped had few mosquitos and would be warm. I was right about both. It was on a flat spot mid-way on a slope. There was a swampy creek way below so there were some mosquitos, but that's what my tent is for. As I wrote in my journal I thought how I kind of feel like a bird in a cage with the door open. I may have peered out the door, maybe even stepped out a little, but I haven't left the cage.
In the morning of July 5 I set off at 6AM with no particular goal in mind. The trail went up and down, up and down. In the High Sierras and even in Southern California it seemed more like the trail would go up for half the day and then go down. Not so now. It undulated all the time. It felt quite tiring but as I watched the miles roll by I was amazed at how far I was going.
I started walking through hillsides just covered in wildflowers like you wouldn't believe. Every shape and color and just when you thought you'd seen every kind you'd round a bend and there would be new wildflowers. The nice thing about flowers is that you can look at them while you walk. When I try to look at the scenery I often trip over rocks and things.
The scenery continued to be amazing, too, with the layered lava mountains and their interesting spires and cliffs. For some reason these mountains really reminded me of my friend Cerena. She should be here. These mountains felt full of spirits and magic.
There were a lot of dayhikers and backpackers along the way because I was never very far from a trailhead. I even met some Mennonite women out dayhiking in their dresses. I also met another thru named Nitro Joe. He was suffering from hamstring problems and had to rest a lot. Maybe he burned out his Nitro.
At about 4pm I looked in the guide book and it mentioned a rock formation coming up called the "dome". I decided to aim for that. I made it to the dome at 6 and camped below it. The book said it would be humbling and beautiful, especially in the evening light. It was beautiful, but there was another formation on the mountain that reminded me of the Taj Mahal that I thought was even more impressive. The cliff I made camp under was full of spires and domes, needles and blocks. It was very interesting. It all looked even prettier in the morning. By the time I'd made camp I had hiked 27 miles.
On July 6 I woke up in my solitary campsite to see that I was surrounded by people. Somebody was sleeping in a green bag and I could see a couple putting their things away about 50 feet up the way. Eventually I met the couple. Their names were Pickles and Gator. They hike very fast but stop often so I kept meeting them all day long.
Pickles and Gator told me about a planned Trail Magic event happening on Carson Pass. They were trying to get there in time before it closed up, hoping for food and some chairs to sit on. It became my new goal, too, even though I told myself I was going to take it easy and not push myself too hard. I should forget about these silly goals to take it easy. I never will. Carson Pass was 25 miles away.
All day I went as fast as I could, never taking a rest except when I caught up to Pickles and Gator. The only time I sat down was when Gator was selling his bear can on the trail to some backpacker heading south. Otherwise I ate my lunches "on the hoof."
I reached a mountain called the "Nipple" and found Pickles and Gator eating lunch. They invited me to rest with them. I foolishly declined saying I would rest at the next water so I could make some lemonade and take some ibuprofen. Silly me. So used to water being everywhere I didn't realize I would go many hours before seeing water again. When I finally found water I was so close to climbing Carson Pass that I made my lemonade, drank it in one hurried gulp, bent over immediately to put my stuff away and back up it came out my nose. I got to climb Carson Pass with the smell of stomach acid in my nose.
Carson Pass was not as hard as previous passes but it still was arduous with many false summits. The ibuprofen I had taken did nothing to help my achey feet. When I reached the top it was only a few more miles to the trailhead parking lot where the hoped-for food might be, but they were long and painful miles. There were tons of dayhikers out on this side of the pass. I passed them all, walking faster than them even after hiking more than 20 miles with a pack on my back.
There was no Trail Magic at the parking lot, but Pickles and Gator were still there. We were too late for the food, but the nice folks inside the information shop brought out a bag of fruit so we had a feast of apples, bananas and oranges with peanut butter. That was actually better than whatever greasy fare might have been there. After a long rest and fruit I felt revived.
We couldn't camp in the lot so there were still miles to be made. We climbed up a mountain through a profusion of flowers that rivaled the best Montecito garden you could imagine. We made camp in a meadow full of wild irises and small, froggy ponds on top. It was a warm and windy night with swarming mosquitos, but the tent protected me.
July 7 left only about 15 miles to get to Echo Lake and the end of Section J. I decided I would try to go to South Lake Tahoe when I got there. The hike to Echo Lake was long and arduous, descending through meadows and flowers into pine forest and bone-crunching descents. Pickles and Gator flew away and I hiked alone all day.
When I got to Echo Lake there were other thrus hanging out. One of them gave me a piece of cardboard so I could make a sign for my hitchhike. I wrote South Lake Tahoe and The "Y" on it and camped out near the parking lot, playing my pennywhistle so people would be sure to see me. Nobody stopped so I decided to walk back to the store where the thrus were hanging out, but with my sign still showing. A lady stopped and picked me up on the way!
She was a 49 year-old nurse who lived in South Lake Tahoe. She seemed to be at a crossroads in life, unsure which way to go, suffering on and off with depression, unsatisfied with life. I think that's why she picked up 43 year-old me. Perhaps she thought I had an answer, being a similar age and doing something most women might harbor secret desires to do, but fear that maybe they can't. All I can say is if you dream it, do it. Life's too short to live it making money from big corporations and giving it back to big corporations. That's not safety or security. It's the cage this old bird Piper is trying to step out of.
I was really glad I decided to continue my hike. Even if my hike is like swiss cheese with lots of holes, I realize for me it's not so much about covering every single mile. It's about enjoying these places of incredible beauty and about enjoying a way of life you have to experience to understand. There's a magical freedom in having everything you need on your back. You don't need much to be happy, safe and warm. Everywhere you are you are already home. Even if you are dirty and smelly you're still alive and enjoying life. If you need a box to mail something, you're not so proud anymore that you won't open a dumpster and look for one. You meet other thru-hikers and you're instant friends, just sitting somewhere together sharing stories of your shared adventures. You are able to talk quietly with few words because the din of civilization isn't buzzing in your ears anymore. (It's amazing how loudly people shout at each other when you get near civilization.)
The hike isn't a goal to walk every single mile to Canada (maybe it is for some, but not for me) so much as a way of life you try to savor as long as possible. I wish I could live this way.
We parked in the trailhead parking lot. There were many people out enjoying the July 4th time off. Lots of photographers were taking pictures of the wildflowers. Oh, the wildflowers!
I threw my stuff together super quickly. Since the 4th of July closed the Post Office, I was not able to get my bounce bucket so I ended up buying a whole new guide book. Since I couldn't mail home unneeded sections I had to carry the whole thing with me. The weight's not so bad, but I anticipated a lot of remarks about lugging the whole book from other hikers, if I should meet them. And I did get lots of remarks about it.
I also bought some new shoes. The La Sportiva ones gave me blisters on top of my toes and they just made my whole foot ache. I think I can fix that when I get home. My new shoes are Montrail. Same kind of shoe: mesh and kind of like a running shoe. They made my feet ache, too. But I've now bought some gel insoles. I might even buy another layer so I can walk on gel clouds.
I cried when I had to say good-bye to Tony. I really didn't want to be alone again. Maybe I'd never see another living soul again. Maybe I'd hate every minute of my hike like I did by the time I gave up near Bishop Pass. Tony didn't cry. I think he was anxious to make the long drive home and worried about the big fire in Goleta.
I set off to climb my last 10,000+ft mountain. The climb was easy. The trail was smooth. I felt like the trail was going to be kind to me. A trail crew had even chopped steps and fresh trail through the snow patches. I thanked them when they went by.
The scenery was amazing. All around me were volcanic mountains of reddish black layers with patches of snow, and wildflowers bloomed in garden-like patches all around me. I was constantly amazed how different and beautiful it was from the High Sierras and their granite domes and within an hour I felt no more sadness for being alone. Instead I felt so lucky to be out here and so glad I decided to continue. If I could recommend any section to do, Section J would be it. It was the most beautiful so far.
I crested the mountain and dropped to the other side. Along the way I met Nimble Will Nomad, accidentally mistaking him for Billy Goat. I first met him on Fuller Ridge near Idyllwild. He's an older man all white and bearded who carries almost nothing on his back. He was hiking Southbound to spare his knees. Looking back I'm not sure what he was sparing them from. The trail in Section J constantly goes up and down, crunching your knees all the time.
I made camp after about 10 miles in a spot I hoped had few mosquitos and would be warm. I was right about both. It was on a flat spot mid-way on a slope. There was a swampy creek way below so there were some mosquitos, but that's what my tent is for. As I wrote in my journal I thought how I kind of feel like a bird in a cage with the door open. I may have peered out the door, maybe even stepped out a little, but I haven't left the cage.
In the morning of July 5 I set off at 6AM with no particular goal in mind. The trail went up and down, up and down. In the High Sierras and even in Southern California it seemed more like the trail would go up for half the day and then go down. Not so now. It undulated all the time. It felt quite tiring but as I watched the miles roll by I was amazed at how far I was going.
I started walking through hillsides just covered in wildflowers like you wouldn't believe. Every shape and color and just when you thought you'd seen every kind you'd round a bend and there would be new wildflowers. The nice thing about flowers is that you can look at them while you walk. When I try to look at the scenery I often trip over rocks and things.
The scenery continued to be amazing, too, with the layered lava mountains and their interesting spires and cliffs. For some reason these mountains really reminded me of my friend Cerena. She should be here. These mountains felt full of spirits and magic.
There were a lot of dayhikers and backpackers along the way because I was never very far from a trailhead. I even met some Mennonite women out dayhiking in their dresses. I also met another thru named Nitro Joe. He was suffering from hamstring problems and had to rest a lot. Maybe he burned out his Nitro.
At about 4pm I looked in the guide book and it mentioned a rock formation coming up called the "dome". I decided to aim for that. I made it to the dome at 6 and camped below it. The book said it would be humbling and beautiful, especially in the evening light. It was beautiful, but there was another formation on the mountain that reminded me of the Taj Mahal that I thought was even more impressive. The cliff I made camp under was full of spires and domes, needles and blocks. It was very interesting. It all looked even prettier in the morning. By the time I'd made camp I had hiked 27 miles.
On July 6 I woke up in my solitary campsite to see that I was surrounded by people. Somebody was sleeping in a green bag and I could see a couple putting their things away about 50 feet up the way. Eventually I met the couple. Their names were Pickles and Gator. They hike very fast but stop often so I kept meeting them all day long.
Pickles and Gator told me about a planned Trail Magic event happening on Carson Pass. They were trying to get there in time before it closed up, hoping for food and some chairs to sit on. It became my new goal, too, even though I told myself I was going to take it easy and not push myself too hard. I should forget about these silly goals to take it easy. I never will. Carson Pass was 25 miles away.
All day I went as fast as I could, never taking a rest except when I caught up to Pickles and Gator. The only time I sat down was when Gator was selling his bear can on the trail to some backpacker heading south. Otherwise I ate my lunches "on the hoof."
I reached a mountain called the "Nipple" and found Pickles and Gator eating lunch. They invited me to rest with them. I foolishly declined saying I would rest at the next water so I could make some lemonade and take some ibuprofen. Silly me. So used to water being everywhere I didn't realize I would go many hours before seeing water again. When I finally found water I was so close to climbing Carson Pass that I made my lemonade, drank it in one hurried gulp, bent over immediately to put my stuff away and back up it came out my nose. I got to climb Carson Pass with the smell of stomach acid in my nose.
Carson Pass was not as hard as previous passes but it still was arduous with many false summits. The ibuprofen I had taken did nothing to help my achey feet. When I reached the top it was only a few more miles to the trailhead parking lot where the hoped-for food might be, but they were long and painful miles. There were tons of dayhikers out on this side of the pass. I passed them all, walking faster than them even after hiking more than 20 miles with a pack on my back.
There was no Trail Magic at the parking lot, but Pickles and Gator were still there. We were too late for the food, but the nice folks inside the information shop brought out a bag of fruit so we had a feast of apples, bananas and oranges with peanut butter. That was actually better than whatever greasy fare might have been there. After a long rest and fruit I felt revived.
We couldn't camp in the lot so there were still miles to be made. We climbed up a mountain through a profusion of flowers that rivaled the best Montecito garden you could imagine. We made camp in a meadow full of wild irises and small, froggy ponds on top. It was a warm and windy night with swarming mosquitos, but the tent protected me.
July 7 left only about 15 miles to get to Echo Lake and the end of Section J. I decided I would try to go to South Lake Tahoe when I got there. The hike to Echo Lake was long and arduous, descending through meadows and flowers into pine forest and bone-crunching descents. Pickles and Gator flew away and I hiked alone all day.
When I got to Echo Lake there were other thrus hanging out. One of them gave me a piece of cardboard so I could make a sign for my hitchhike. I wrote South Lake Tahoe and The "Y" on it and camped out near the parking lot, playing my pennywhistle so people would be sure to see me. Nobody stopped so I decided to walk back to the store where the thrus were hanging out, but with my sign still showing. A lady stopped and picked me up on the way!
She was a 49 year-old nurse who lived in South Lake Tahoe. She seemed to be at a crossroads in life, unsure which way to go, suffering on and off with depression, unsatisfied with life. I think that's why she picked up 43 year-old me. Perhaps she thought I had an answer, being a similar age and doing something most women might harbor secret desires to do, but fear that maybe they can't. All I can say is if you dream it, do it. Life's too short to live it making money from big corporations and giving it back to big corporations. That's not safety or security. It's the cage this old bird Piper is trying to step out of.
I was really glad I decided to continue my hike. Even if my hike is like swiss cheese with lots of holes, I realize for me it's not so much about covering every single mile. It's about enjoying these places of incredible beauty and about enjoying a way of life you have to experience to understand. There's a magical freedom in having everything you need on your back. You don't need much to be happy, safe and warm. Everywhere you are you are already home. Even if you are dirty and smelly you're still alive and enjoying life. If you need a box to mail something, you're not so proud anymore that you won't open a dumpster and look for one. You meet other thru-hikers and you're instant friends, just sitting somewhere together sharing stories of your shared adventures. You are able to talk quietly with few words because the din of civilization isn't buzzing in your ears anymore. (It's amazing how loudly people shout at each other when you get near civilization.)
The hike isn't a goal to walk every single mile to Canada (maybe it is for some, but not for me) so much as a way of life you try to savor as long as possible. I wish I could live this way.
Friday, July 04, 2008
Quick update from Mammoth
I don't have a lot of time to write. I just wanted to make a quick update.
First of all, thanks for your recent comments. Yes, I'm hard on myself. Always have been, I guess. Perhaps I'll learn how to stop that.
Tony and I drove back up to Mammoth and hiked up the Duck Pass trail to the PCT. Then we followed the PCT as it went by Devil's Postpile and up to Tuolumne Meadows. Then we continued on the John Muir Trail toward Half Dome (nope, didn't climb it) and down the Mist Trail into the valley. The Mist Trail was awesome with chiseled steps that plunged down into the valley floor.
We had the perfect camp near Half Dome with a perfect view and the warmest, most comfortable night. It was a wonderful trip for the two of us. I felt bad, though, for pushing Tony so hard. We did a couple of 18 milers and one 20+ miler that included Donahue Pass. Donahue Pass isn't one of the most difficult, but I struggled up it just the same. 11,056 ft and a little bit of snow.
Once I got back on the PCT at Duck Creek I started running into all my old friends. First I met Southern Man. Then by Thousand Island lake I bumped into a strange, huge crowd of people just sitting quietly, as PCT hikers will sometimes do. Among them were Sparky, who I hadn't seen since the turnoff to Mt. San Jacinto, and Mike and Kat who I hadn't seen since before I went to Big Bear. Later at Tuolumne I saw tons of hikers I didn't really know and down in the Valley I saw Hawkeye and Danger Prone. Everybody is still there, chugging along. It made me so happy to see everybody.
Part of what made our little hike so nice was that we had so many places to eat meals. We had the biggest tuna sandwich ever seen at Red's Meadow. Then at Tuolumne they have a cafe so we had burgers and ice cream. In the valley more food. Now back at Mammoth more food. Food! I love food.
I thought of quitting many times. Why not? Tony's here. I have a ride home. But we talked about it and I'm going to skip section I and go up to the start of section J at Sonora Pass and continue. Hopefully the lower elevation and lack of scary creek crossings will make it a pleasant journey. I probably won't see my friends, though, so we'll see how that works.
I only wish I could take a zero here in Mammoth. Alas, no.
See you down the trail.
First of all, thanks for your recent comments. Yes, I'm hard on myself. Always have been, I guess. Perhaps I'll learn how to stop that.
Tony and I drove back up to Mammoth and hiked up the Duck Pass trail to the PCT. Then we followed the PCT as it went by Devil's Postpile and up to Tuolumne Meadows. Then we continued on the John Muir Trail toward Half Dome (nope, didn't climb it) and down the Mist Trail into the valley. The Mist Trail was awesome with chiseled steps that plunged down into the valley floor.
We had the perfect camp near Half Dome with a perfect view and the warmest, most comfortable night. It was a wonderful trip for the two of us. I felt bad, though, for pushing Tony so hard. We did a couple of 18 milers and one 20+ miler that included Donahue Pass. Donahue Pass isn't one of the most difficult, but I struggled up it just the same. 11,056 ft and a little bit of snow.
Once I got back on the PCT at Duck Creek I started running into all my old friends. First I met Southern Man. Then by Thousand Island lake I bumped into a strange, huge crowd of people just sitting quietly, as PCT hikers will sometimes do. Among them were Sparky, who I hadn't seen since the turnoff to Mt. San Jacinto, and Mike and Kat who I hadn't seen since before I went to Big Bear. Later at Tuolumne I saw tons of hikers I didn't really know and down in the Valley I saw Hawkeye and Danger Prone. Everybody is still there, chugging along. It made me so happy to see everybody.
Part of what made our little hike so nice was that we had so many places to eat meals. We had the biggest tuna sandwich ever seen at Red's Meadow. Then at Tuolumne they have a cafe so we had burgers and ice cream. In the valley more food. Now back at Mammoth more food. Food! I love food.
I thought of quitting many times. Why not? Tony's here. I have a ride home. But we talked about it and I'm going to skip section I and go up to the start of section J at Sonora Pass and continue. Hopefully the lower elevation and lack of scary creek crossings will make it a pleasant journey. I probably won't see my friends, though, so we'll see how that works.
I only wish I could take a zero here in Mammoth. Alas, no.
See you down the trail.
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