Miles hiked: 18.1
Mile marker: 1863.3
Total ascent: 2600 ft
Total descent: 1500 ft
Bumper joined us last night. He was dropped off from Trail Days by some friends. I saw his light as he came into camp last night.
We all pack up like zombies in the early morning.
“Hi Bumper,” Rafiki says after we’ve all been out of our tents for several minutes.
“Oh good. I thought this was some bit where everyone ignored me,” Bumper replies.
“Nope”, I say. “We’re all just waking up.”
I should have said good morning earlier.
We get to hiking down the soft dirt path. I have to use the bathroom so badly I’m all bloated and my stomach hurts even to the touch.
We get to the road and cross the street. The ground is red gravel. Cars are sparse going the way we need. I wonder if it would have been better to just ship our boxes to Crater Lake and wait there.
The hitch to Diamond Lake is unpredictable!
An older woman in a white car pulls over.
Thank goodness!
“Going to Crater Lake,” she says.
Not thank goodness.
We walk the road. And walk. Stick a thumb up for a car. They pass. Walk into the ditch as the semi trucks pass.
Cars can be seen from the hilly road from far away.
Thumbs up.
No luck.
An old pale blue sprinter van passes us.
“We didn’t want that one anyway,” Rafiki says. “He’d probably kidnap us.”
The sky is grayed over with the whisper of the sun sneaking through the washed out day.
We keep walking.
And lo and behold, guess who comes back?
The kidnapping sprinter van.
We hop in, chatting with our Canadian drivable who’s on his way home to Medford from visiting cousins in Canada.
We don’t know where we’re going, so our driver sounds a bit irritated as we try to navigate him to the unfamiliar area.
Were dropped off at a lodge. We plug in our electronics. We sit down for breakfast while Voyager retrieves our boxes from the post office.
About four hours pass here. Not much to tell. Four cups of coffee, breakfast burritos, organizing our resupply boxes, buying donuts from the store, and dinging around on the piano all occupy that time.
The lake is huge. Pointed trees stand out in the distance. The sky is gray. I’m reminded heavily of my time in Bellingham Washington. I used to sail Hoby Cats on those waters. It’s wild to think I could sail by myself, never having done it growing up.
I’m nostalgic for Bellingham.
The lady at the front desk tells us she had a friend who can pick us up.
Soon, we’re in the car of a woman with some missing teeth and paint on her jeans, someone who is thankful for the break from her roofing job. She can sit down for a moment, and she’s glad about that.
We hike. I listen to a sermon that talks about vision — what is your vision for what God has given you? For your family, your business idea, your outreach, your singleness. The pastor said if you pack a bag for vacation then you have a vision for what that vacation will be like, and you pack for it.
Same thing with vision for your life. What do you imagine for those things and what are you doing to prepare for it?
Then I listen to a song called You Lead Me by Lauren Daigle, and that is probably my anchor song for the trail right now. It says God leads us through deserts, waters, valleys, and flames.
Basically the PCT.
It says that God will lead when we are afraid of where we’ll be.
Me. I’m afraid of where I’ll be after trail… I have no idea what post-trail looks like.
That scares me.
The song empowers me. So much so that I push up the hill. I’m breathing heavily, but flying through the wooded forest.
The sun is in and out. I finally reach the top. I sit on a rock. The mountains and trees are in front of me. It reminds me of Washington.
The wind whispers from far away, sneaking through the trees. It then blows loudly in my ears, like the heavy wind of the grouses when you walk by and spook them, causing them to take sudden flight.
The birds twitter and tweet.
“You were flying!” Voyager says as she approaches a couple minutes later. The others are with her. “What did you do? Sermon or music?”
“Cocaine sticks,” I say, referring to the sweetened strips of coconut in my hands.
We keep hiking. I keep moving quickly. The water source is only two miles away. We reach it and plan for a 22.2 mile water carry.
Rafiki goes ahead. I bet his knees hurt. Soon, I pass both Bumper and Voyager. I’m pushing hard up the hill. It’s a long hill. Four and a half miles.
Only six miles to camp. I go up and up and up, hoping to catch Rafiki. I love having goals.
I wait for Bumper and Voyager at the highest point in Oregon! Rafiki wrote his name in the ground here, but he must have continued on.
We keep hiking. One mile to camp!
I spot Rafiki’s white cowboy hat finally! When I arrive, he’s just taking his pack off.
Camp at last!
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