man what’s even the point of writing anything that’s not about the place in the world that’s known as Butt Mountain
After England blew their chance at the World Cup i did my chores as fast as possible but then i ended up sitting in the library for a couple hours dodging the climb i had to do in the 90° heat also watching the new episodes of Steven Universe.
Norcal/Jefferson keeps being very nice country and good trail. I’ve seen many more deer in these parts than anywhere else on trail. These deer have the boldness of Shenandoah deer, i’ve gotten very close to some of them. Some comments on Guthooks tell of encounters with deer that try running away with food, hiking poles, and some backpacks. I believe it too, i’ve run at some deer, shouting and waving my poles and they just stand there unimpressed.
The trail came across another long climb down into a valley. Thankfully i didn’t do my research and i got a delightful surprise of the trail passing right by a diner/lodge in Belden.
It was a really cozy place, the owner ran a pawn shop for 30 in before getting this new place so it was packed full with cool arts covered in cobwebs. I wanted to find him and ask him questions about his life and some of the things, especially after i saw his Clampers admittance framed on the wall, but instead i just drank two pints and hit the trail.
Turns out drinking two pints and going to do a 10 mile 4500 foot climb in 90° heat is great for the spirit but not the body. I ended up hanging out at a spring in the shade for a half hour cooling off and burning away some more sunlight.
At a spring fed trough i had a nice conversation with an old guy who lived his whole life in these mountains that i was okay with cutting short because he was holding a giant knife the whole time. It was in its leather casing the whole time but like come on man you have so many pockets, you can put the knife in one of em and lose some aggression energy. Nice guy tho
The next morning i got about 5 minutes of big rain drops while an angry thunderstorm just over the next ridge loomed ominously. It wasn’t enough to dampen my spirits though, because the halfway marker was approaching that day. With reroutes and closures and how i’m not a purist the halfway post is more symbolic than literal, so in my heart the halfway point was actually Butt Mountain.
A few miles afterwards i showed up in Chester, another small town situated down a stretch of one road. Word traveled down the trail that a diner in town sold 32oz milkshakes and that was my first stop.
My body went on autopilot, i didn’t even notice myself eating it until it was already over. I sat outside and let the cold spot in my stomach warm up slowly. A group of people on vacation were struggling to finish their milkshakes so I stepped up to the plate and ended up consuming about 50oz of milkshake for dinner. Also a burger and some fries.
that night at the church that all the hikers camped at i saw a drunk englishman take off his pants and do pushups in an effort to stop a conversation about religion. someone poured gin and tonic on his exposed butt
we was eatin good this summer, what with ye and with steven universe before they stopped taking their time with character growth and development.
you butt, past gadget, you shoulda tracked down that clamper.
lol butt mountain
that entire final paragraph with huge hiker trash energy.
man i dunno 