stuck inside of cheyenne with the memphis blues again

part 3 on the dash to iowa city

Another chilly night later and i awoke in the field on the edge of Cheyenne wrapped in fog. I packed up and continued my streak of getting a cup of coffee at a Flying J, only this time i got a banana with it for breakfast. I spent the morning playing guitar outside of the Denny’s attached to the J.

that white spot is shelia’s super fluffy blanket

Shelia rolled up at around 830. We talked about the various gypsy adventures she got herself into as she broke out her paints. She’s super into painting things, it’s cool that she had so many paints stuffed into her backpack. She told of her bear encounter, her last time at a rave, and the nice lady who gave her croc sandals while she painted her hand and face, and my hand and the Doctor.

lookin fine, doc

Painting continued as we made signs that simply read “EAST” with Jo, a girl who was dressed like a trainhopper and had a rad dog. We weren’t sure how dogs worked with trainhopping but Shelia expressed a desire with becoming one herself. We also met another man who was hitchhiking around, his name started with an E but i didn’t understand his name after 2 tries and i didn’t want to ask again so he’s E.

We walked around the truck stops with no takers so we moved to the on ramp. Hours passed and no hitches came. We set out down the interstate and no hitches came. We walked out to a different exit and no hitches came. We resigned ourselves to walking down to a different interstate crossing on the other side of town, and on the way she told me about the time she got a camper and recruited a legion of gypsies to live in it with her.

shoutout to madam cheesesteak

We took a pit stop at a pizza place and got a pie with some money that people gave us. It had ranch sauce, bacon, green onions, tator tots, and nacho cheese drizzled on top and it was bonkers how good it was.

By the next interstate i was given about $30 in only a few minutes while i was just standing there playing the Doctor, i can only assume it was his cool new paint job that enticed them. As it was getting very dark a man pulled up and drove us one exit down the interstate to the Walmart exit.

As we were scouting our sleeping spot that night we passed by a big rv selling flags and never have i seen so many flags. She expressed an interest in burning one of the flags they had on display and i voiced my concern about that idea.

it was super windy so the flags looked rad. the top flag reads “we are not okay” and the bottom one reads “infowars.com”

A spooky storm shadowed the horizon so we slept under a noisy bridge next to some noisy train tracks. Unfortunately it didn’t rain that night so i traded a good night’s sleep for nothing. I groggily drank a Mountain Dew Pitch Black the next morning as i waited for Shelia to wake up.

our cozy spot framed by this fenced in path that many people ran on in the middle of the night

A train was parked right next to our sleeping spot that morning and i waited in vain. She disappeared and we didn’t meet up again. Hopefully she got the courage and hopped on that train, off to wander the country some more. Hours later i got a ride from a nice teacher who was chock full of education it was crazy.

Since she was a matronly figure she also made me promise to be safe on my adventures. She dropped me at the last truck stop on I-80 in Wyoming which soon i became very familiar with. I spent the afternoon in the trucker lounge charging my stuff and watching a handful of SGDQ runs while all the trucker boys watched their buff footy boys play their football. That continued until sunset and i moved to underneath the interstate for a loud night’s sleep. It wasn’t cold though so things were looking up.

many of these pennies were here being art before i showed up. i put some more there, as did e

The next morning i spent too much time in the truck stop eating french toast sticks and playing with my music game on my game boy. I thought about trying to hitch out but the sun was high and hot so instead i watched all of Bojack Horseman season 4 and a few of my other favorite episodes from other seasons.

E had pulled a hitch to this next truck stop too and we chatted for a bit. He’s 56, and he had a stroke 3 years back. Things went all wrong afterwards and he’s been homeless since then. He was in the process of heading down to near Oklahoma City for the winter. We talked about how awful some big cities are with homeless people on heroin and how people are very grumpy these days. He also had a doozy of a coughing fit and told me afterwards that he’s been smoking the same kind of cigarettes since he was 13. I posited that there was a correlation there and he agreed as he lit up one.

e on his way to get some coffee in the late afternoon

Day turned to dusk turned to night and i set up shop at the same spot that night. I woke up early the next morning and started to hitch early that morning, before the sun got too hot.

and i got one but at that point i was no longer stuck in wyoming so i need to end this post. also dang i’m no good at writing these now that i’m back in michigan on my routine i had pre-pct. i shoulda wrote all these while i was hitching but oops. this week and last week i’ve been working at biggby and playing hella video games. next post will be about finally getting to iowa and the one after that will be about video games cuz they’re a great medium and they’re still reaching their potential


gotchu bruv

such a fresh medium, interactive media, still experimenting with what it can be. saddled by the basic versus structure tied to its early years, a game of moving pictures. burdened by foolish big business, aaa gaming sure looks messy here in 2024 lol. crippled by input, controller literacy is quite the hurdle, not to mention dual stick 3d movement. look to the indie market: these computers are more common than ever these days, creativity in interactive media is all over the place, we eatin these days

but what’s that peering over the fence? virtual reality? just think of the ways it can interact, the ways it can immerse…wait can it even see us with those things on? are they any good these days? accessible to the common audience yet?

more and more creatives getting inspired by creatives, all the while the ceaseless march of technology continues. exciting days ahead so long as this leisure entertainment thing persists.

hope you’re doing ok, E

wyoming is rich as heckin with open space

in which dallas drives me around for days

The next day i “awoke” before dawn after a rough night of freezing my tookus off. As my dad has said my entire life, “travel light, freeze at night.” This prophecy came to pass as my minimal gear led to chilly nights. Also this marked the first time that i layed down to rest near a place called Mosquito Creek. That prophecy also came to pass and i found many tiny mosquito bites on my exposed hands.

the scenic sunrise over rural america

I ducked into the nearby truck stop to warm my bones and get a cup of joe. They also sold gigantic donuts for two bucks so of course that happened. After the warm sun rose entirely i set out to try to hitch. Not many cars came by, but i was unabated with my attempts.

i stared at this for a while
oh no i got shrunk down this is a regular sized donut

As noon hit i was still standing there. That’s when i realized i spent the past five months walking, so why wasn’t i doing that now? I set out onto the interstate with my thumb out trying to fish for some nice humans. It was silly of me to start so late, i was cooking in the hot deserty sun of north Oregon. Two miles later or so a car pulled over. When i walked up they rolled the window down, asked if i had a license, and asked if i wanted to drive. I didn’t tell them that it had been five months since i drove last and hopped into the driver’s seat.

We drove to an Indian Casino about 20 miles up the interstate. I forget their names, but they were a grandfather and grandson from some Native American tribe in Oregon. They were the last two people who could speak their native language. At the casino they were off to have a meeting with some elders from a different tribe to make plans to create some kind of class so they wouldn’t be the only two people who spoke their language.

We stopped at a truck stop because of course we did, and they bought me some Mcdonald’s. The walls were adorned with old Native American woven baskets and the grandpa picked out features of their weaving that told him when they were made. He also talked about football. Both of these subjects i couldn’t contribute much to but i liked the way he spoke so it was all good.

It was late afternoon so i was on the fence about heading out again. After drinking my body weight in pop and buying a cheap fleece blanket i decided to continue trying to hitch. Two miles later on the interstate again a pickup truck with a cute dog in the back pulled over. The driver was an older guy, who was currently making a living picking and selling mushrooms. The sustenance kind, not the psychedelic kind. He came in clutch as the interstate was starting to climb up and over a pass.

the clouds made me nervous for rain but i liked how they danced with the sunset

He shuttled me to a cozy rest stop. After he left i saw two girls doing a small cookout on the back of their van with a dog. They offered me some beans and rice and let me pet their dog, but the van was packed very full and i couldn’t ride with them. The sun was low and i set up shop there and watched a couple episodes of Bojack Horseman to get hyped for season 5.

I lingered at the rest stop for way too long the next morning, set out on the interstate close to noon. A couple few miles later i took shelter under a bridge to cool off. As i was brushing my hair a semi honked and pulled off to the side of the road eventually. I got my workout as i jogged up to it and got inside.

The driver was a super rad dude. His name is Dallas, he was in the army, he was a chef, and he was heading to his hometown in Casper Wyoming to meet his new niece. He offered to take me the whole way there and i couldn’t say no to that meaty of a hitch. He told me of all the cool things in Wyoming and bought me multiple meals. We stopped for the night in Idaho near the border with Wyoming and i slept in the back of his semi. The next morning i woke up before him and played some guitar outside of the truck stop as the sun rose. A few people gave me some money even though i didn’t have a hat down or anything so that felt great.

we watched some footy too. american television commercials are insufferable

His semi was outfitted with all kinds of beeping devices. One would beep two different ways whenever it felt like he was too far out of his lane, one would beep whenever it saw the speed limit change, and there was another that beeped very loudly but i don’t remember what set that one off.

Many many miles later we neared Casper. We stopped at Independence Rock, a cool old rock that people have been carving their names into since the pioneer days. Not long after that we got into Casper and he picked out all the things that have changed in the past four or five years as we rolled into the Flying J at the edge of town. His mom came by and picked him up and i sat outside with my stuff and my guitar when Shelia walked up.

She’s been hitching around the west side of America for quite a while, she was nebulous about how many years it had been. We were sitting outside when i saw Dallas come by on a motorcycle, but he didn’t see me there. I walked over to his semi after i finished the song i was playing and still didn’t see him. I took the assumption that he thought i ghosted on him and felt terrible. I left him a note telling him that beefCerealMayo would find me on the internet and got into a pickup with Shelia down to Cheyenne.

That hitch was a friendly guy with a Guy Fawkes mask on his dash and a Guy Fawkes mask sticker on his windshield. He chain smoked cigarettes the whole way down as we played an eclectic mix of music on the speaker he had in the backseat because his truck’s speakers were busted. He dropped us at a Flying J where we got some food and Shelia and i found a cozy field to sleep in.

surprisingly enough this wasn’t my hotspot. mine is called “booty show”

whew okay got three days on this one. not many pictures sorry, i didn’t take my phone out of my pocket much during that meaty hitch with dallas. for real though i feel like garbage leaving dallas without saying goodbye if you’re reading this dallas you’re super rad and i still have to go back to cheyenne to get that burger and also try out a taco john’s. also thank you so much for the meaty hitch it came in clutch and was essential for me getting to that wedding


it’s not always kosher to stroll on these interstates, but how else can i show these people that i am no common vagrant without direction? i have drive to accomplish, see me walking? they’re poor for walking tho, loud loud loud.

still feel bad about how we parted, dallas. a true homie like you deserved better, i’m sorry friend.

the best part of the adventure time finale was when gumbald called pb weird for making more bananas

i stand by this statement. also i start a hitch to iowa

spoilers: i made it to Iowa City in time for the wedding. it’s been a minute since i wrote on here because i wanted to surprise my friends by showing up for this wedding, other than the one that’s getting married i made sure to rsvp to him

That day in Portland was a busy one. My first stop was at an H&M so i could get a pair of jeans. I wasn’t about to try to hitchhike any long distance in my hiking skirt, especially off trail. My mistake was going to H&M, they didn’t have any boot cut jeans to go with my hiking boots. Unabated i still got a pair and headed to an outdoor gear store to downsize. My normal pack, the Red Menace, was an unwieldy beast chock fill of bulky gear and not optimized for hitchhiking. Also it was falling apart all over the place. I dropped most of my gear along with the pack and got a 45 liter Lendes one for way cheaper than on Osprey.

My sorry attempt at hitching out of Portland went poorly and i spent the night in a hotel instead. It was for the best because i got to shower, watch the series finale of Adventure Time and almost cry, and have a restless night sleep on a proper bed.

why are they making another lego movie

I woke up bright and early the next day to get the first bus from Portland to Cascade Locks after a couple other buses. One of my drivers was a nice lady who was covering the shift of a legendary Portland bus driver, she sang the praises of him to me as we were the only ones on the bus.

In Cascade Locks i sent home the Red Menace and it cost way too much money. As i walked to the edge of town to try to hitch i passed by some hikers who didn’t even give me the time of day since i was no longer in my thru hiking uniform. It was a weird feeling that i didn’t like.

At the edge of town my first hitch didn’t go well. One lady stopped for me to tell me that she couldn’t pick me up. Then a bus heading east stopped and the driver picked me up and drove me from Cascade Locks to Hood River for free which i count as a win with my first hitch.

From Hood River i took a bus to The Dalles. While i was waiting i chatted with an old lady who i initially saw as cute but she identified as being grumpy. She was concerned about my upcoming journey and made me promise not to do anything she wouldn’t approve of after offering me some of her ice cream sandwich and paying my one dollar bus fare.

this was in portland but i wanted to space out the pictures better

The Dalles didn’t really have a good place to hitch out from, but thankfully after about half an hour of standing near a roundabout a man in a truck with no doors brought me a few miles out of town to a better place to hitch from. Unfortunately that next hitch took a few hours.

Two older guys in a pickup [a pattern will emerge] rolled up on their way to a campground on the Columbia River near Rufus. The driver had a US Navy hat on backwards and his passenger had a thick accent and multiple cans of Rolling Rock. They requested that i sing the whole time to pay for my hitch and they showed me with praise after each song. The Navy driver also expressed concern for my well being, so i told him that i promised my mama i’d be safe, and i don’t mess with her cuz she was in the Army. I think the driver’s words were “i knew something was wrong about you when i picked you up,” while his passenger laughed.

They dropped me off at the gas station in Rufus and said if i was stuck there by nighttime i was more than welcome at their campsite. After around 5 hours i was starting to despair. During that time i played a lot of guitar, listened to a few podcasts, and bought a bottle of that tropical sprite. The cashier at the gas station was wearing a D.Va hat so we talked Overwatch in the air conditioning for a bit, and about how he’s more of a Mei main but the Mei hat was always sold out. I told him in the small time i was playing i was mostly Lucio and he judged me hard.

this car had cool art all over it, especially the “S” which wikipedia identifies as the “Cool S”

As i was pulling up my guitar tuner on my phone a man pulled up and asked if i needed a ride. Turns out he passed by me in The Dalles and was hurrying to work so couldn’t pick me up there, but now he was on his way home and had leisure time. He gave me a meaty hitch to Hinkle.

On the way we touched on podcasts and his eyes lit up as he ran through his list of regulars. He’s more of an informative podcaster where i’m all about those comedy ones, usually improv. We swapped some of our favorites and he pointed out the sights along the way. He drove me a few miles farther up the interstate than he had to because his exit was shared with a prison which isn’t the best place to hitch out from. He dropped me at a truck stop with an A&W attached. Chili dogs were super cheap and i got two.

Right next door was a factory that he told me they made tator tots in and it smelled weird. I cowboyed across the street from there and boy was it cold. It was my first night without all my gear and i was concerned about how dang chilly i was with all my stuff on. Sleep kept a wide berth from me as i curled up for the night.

those two stacks are that tot plant and everything else is my bad photography skills

boy two days and look at how meaty this thing is holy cow. i also wasn’t as good at taking pictures during this time or the next time either oops. i’ma break it up here tho cuz this long as heckin already


nothing really that i’d like to add to this one. it was the start of my big hitchhike and a time of metamorphosis. that long long night of little sleep near the tots factory, i sure spent that night there.

🍕

🍕see ya round, pct 🍕

an old goddess, both eternal and resurrected. her bones are grand, varied, tangible, ethereal, and not even fully her own. her soul reflects her natural beauty, her visage wields power over hearts and souls. her being stretched across this great distance, her arms warm and opened far along these lands. she offers plenty to her devoted followers, but she does not do this freely.

she lays upon her apostles a passenger. she conjures the cloud of igottadomiles over their heads every morning, rooting their eyes upon the horizon. this is no curse, her disciples enjoy this exchange. ever reveling, but seldom lingering in her bounty. for when they do, the igottadomiles fog creeps and their eyes become hazy unless focused on that line between land and sky in the distance. and so she grows in influence and her legends multiply, for it is easy to love the gottadomiles as it is easy to love the great goddess.

i love this goddess. for the past almost five months she had me in her tender embrace, breathing igottadomiles fog around my senses. as those months progressed i kept getting glimpses past the fog at the world beyond. ever the fog would thicken and refocus my efforts.

the fog got in the way of me spending time on a lavender farm. the fog pulled me from mount shasta, i didn’t even try to go play on her slopes. the fog recently stopped me from going rafting down to a rodeo. the wind blows, and the strength of the fog changes.

this is me getting off trail but it’s not sad promise


I’ve now done about 4000 miles of long distance trail. Bouncing from town to town following that thin earthen line is still great, i love doing it. Much much slower than most of the other hikers out here, but i do love long trail life. I’m comfortable saying that i’m pretty good at it too, this delicate orbit kept around modern society. I am also eager to break free of the trail’s certainty to pastures of different colors, to adventure through rural and urban environs.

oh jeez i spent too much time on this i didn’t sum up the past few days on trail

the only surviving picture of mount jefferson, for some reason my phone took blank white pictures for all the other ones

Northern Oregon continued to impress. The rain threat only escalated, to a point where it was spooky for about one day straight. Boy all the PCTers were terrified, one guy chastised me for shrugging at his horrifying prophecy that the rain would linger for days. It didn’t, but i did sleep like a rock that night, lulled into comfort by the gentle crinkle tinkles of a non-angry rain on my tent. It was exciting to walk across a ridge immersed in a cloud with the wind whipping around me though, reminded me of Maine.

woof i gotta get a new graphics card for this thing
i bet this is common in the cascades

Hella burn areas, a lot of this state has burned up recently. I like burned forests, they’re still and creaky. All the little baby plants reaching up to the stars and the still standing corpses of their progenitors.

i spy with my little eye a dead horse, can you see it? don’t look any harder it was awful
i waited a good hour for the clouds to reveal this beauty

I spent a few hours at a resort with little electricity. It was a cozy place that unfortunately ran out of ice cream. I lingered too long and got swept up into having a wine party on trail that night and it was great. Shoutouts to Machine and Yukon, those boys hike hard and city harder.

smiles > miles
yukon and the machine, shortly before doing two solid days and one solid portland

I did six miles of roadwalk to get a resupply from a gas station in the shadow of Mt Hood. I lingered there too long and did my Hood ascent in the dark. As i continued to climb the treeline broke and i could see lights in the distance calling to me. The wind was howling and the moon was just breaking on the horizon. It was super cool and i camped right next door to the big ol breakfast buffet at Timberline Lodge.

whew
hey there mount hood

Buffets on trail are a big deal. The prospect of eating as much as possible while you’re out there at peak hunger puts dreams into your head and passion into your stomach. It’s an even bigger deal that this buffet isn’t even .1 mile off trail.

The guide app i use has a comments section for each waypoint on trail. For this lodge people took John Muir quotes and changed words so they were about buffets, the lowest hanging fruit being “the buffet is calling and i must go.” I’d reference more but i already deleted the app and i can’t be bothered.

i like taking pictures of people taking pictures
getting that good insta pic with the fancy drink

The breakfast buffet was great, i ate until it hurt and then i pushed some more. Our waitress said that if i played guitar she’d buy me a drink, but after breakfast i could barely breathe and she left before i got the chance. I sat catatonic, mooching off the wifi for a couple hours.

When i could locomote again i spent a while just looking at the lodge. It’s a real cool building in a real cool place, no wonder Kubrick used it for the Shining. Eventually i found my way to the pub and found some hikers still getting their drink on and i was happy to join them. At around 5 we stumbled our way out of the lodge and barely made any progress before it got too dang cold.

you’re sloppy we ain’t sloppy what are you talking about

At the pub the word got spread that there was trail magic the very next day at about 6pm 17 miles up trail. I dug deep, hiked hard, and made it just in time. I accidentally took a side trail that added a bit of a climb but might’ve been shorter overall, and i intentionally took a side trail that was longer so i could see a cool waterfall.

i did the thing
also i made this. i passed by a number of 3000km markers over the course of a couple few miles so i assume 3000km is more of a state of mind than a distance measurement. the thousand yard stare was for a bit, that the will of the trail overtook my consciousness and i crafted this shrine in a fugue state.

The trail angel picked up six of us in her pickup truck and drove us the 20 minutes to her place. They had hot tubs and two cats and a nice creek and a cool house. Spaghetti for dinner and you know i ate up until it hurt. They told us of this 3000 mile rickshaw journey they’re planning for next year that sounded cool and scary.

cat
cat
cat
cat

We got moving slowly the next morning, and i loosely made plans with all the other hikers to do 15 miles to a lake knowing that i probably wouldn’t make it and like of course i didn’t

these two canadians jammed with a cool vibe
i’ll miss you blaze art

In the final stretch of trail Squirrel caught up to me. I had met him on the AT up in Maine so it was cool he caught me right before i hopped off. And wouldn’t you know it, Jason who is now Eastwood, going sobo, crossed my path. He had gotten off trail for a bit because of foot fracture and was doing sobo to see his family one more time. With that i was pretty satisfied, i threw on Hyper Potions and coasted down to Cascade Locks.

and thus my final reunion with a fellow inmate of trail jail
i totally paid to camp here

That night i watched a 30 minute movie about the big fire that almost wrecked Cascade Locks last year and ate a tube of Pringles faster than i thought was possible. This morning i said goodbye to a few other hikers and hopped the bus to Portland.

eh that’s good for now. it’s weird getting off trail. the thru hiker life doesn’t have a slot for my current plans or mental state so it’s interesting seeing how everyone reacts. i guess bittersweet is the closest word i can use but it’s not even that bitter. the sad part of not spending time with all the humans i grew fond of out here is basically over and mostly has been for hundreds of miles. there’s a few phrases i’ve been using but the one i keep coming back to is that i don’t think that the pct has anything left to teach me. i’m comfortable with the societal orbit of long distance trails. since around tahoe when i got that forsaken backpack i got really good at sitting and existing in places and my skill has only improved since then. A task called anyways, a wedding in Iowa to take place in a fortnight that i received an invitation to on top of Mount Whitney months ago.

so, next season, on whatever this is: it’s two thousand miles to iowa city, i’ve got a full backpack, half a pack of plain bagels, it’s hot, and i’m wearing cotton clothes

hit it.


🍕

off trail? on trail? it’s still the trail? what is the trail? why is the trail? how are you doing today, trail? i’m fine, thanks, i’m here about four and a half years after the previous section of words with all these addendums fresh from a more weathered body and soul.

i’ve been calling it the gottadomiles lately, i think i prefer it that way. i pruned some language from those paragraphs as well, too cruel to this trail goddess and trail goddesses everywhere. was it really the unprecedented times that emptied out the arizona trail when i set out on it? or my digital cruelty to the trail goddess powers? no it was probably the unprecedented.

the gottadomiles and i came in contact again out on the AT in Vermont in 2022. late in the NoBo season; the nights bit with wind instead of mosquito. a defined mileage to the finish line, a due date, a simple math to give a ‘miles per day.’ a perfect storm descending of gottadomiles fog. i loitered at a ski patrol hut on a bald mountaintop as nobos paused for meals while counting how much further they had to commute for the day.

lol these dry pct hikers all anxious about rain. thanks, appalachia, for saturating me with rains and hardening me to their trials. give it one more state, they’ll all be in cascades of the stuff i bet.

buffets are still big deal, special occasion to really see what i can do.

at the front desk of the hotel you could ask to hold the axe, you know, that axe, the one from the shining? mr jackson dullboy nicholson himself held it as he calmly entered that bathroom where his wife and child were waiting. do you remember that do you remember the shining? well don’t worry, because ‘HERE’S JOHNNY’ is burned into the wooden handle, deeply burned into it, in a gaudy way that feels like a disservice to both a cinematic relic and the memory of the perfectionist director who labored on it. but it sure is the thing that he said in the movie do you remember?

some fun reunions right at the end there, just what the doctor ordered. the trail provides.

oh jeez usually i have a title thought up by the time i’m done writing but not this time i guess

pct trail days with some wasteland walking

The time came around for my ride up to Cascade Locks so i stood around with my backpack outside of the library. Firefly and her man, Lorax, easily identified me. They brought me to their van which is also their home. It was decked out in wood paneling on the inside with a nice bed and cozy lighting. We started on our hours long journey with me sprawled out on the floor.

We took a side stop to pick up Dreamy from farther up the trail. She’s a professional dancer and told us the tale of when she almost was one of the ballerinas for Runaway for Ye at some music awards show up until he changed his mind. She’s super cool but also many miles ahead of me so i probably won’t see her again? spoiler alert that might be the case with other people

picture not presented chronologically

We drove on into dusk and i spent most of the drive singing and playing the doctor, they were kind enough to not tell me to shut it. When it was time to get gas we stopped at a station that had a Taco Bell and a Cinnabon, very dangerous. I snuck a fiver into a pair of shoes in Firefly’s van because they refused to let me chip in for gas.

eli is the little one bottom left. we have kindred souls kid, you’re going places

Nighttime closed in and we pulled into Cascade Locks close to 1030 on Friday night. People were still going hard, but most of the festivities were closed down, including the place where you pay for camping. And thus we start the series about how PCT Days is inferior to Trail Days on the AT, part1: you have to pay for camping at PCTD. On the plus side, the camping was on an island so that was cool. part2, the island was small so there wasn’t space for the people who wanted to sleep at 11 to separate from the people still putting all the drugs in their body and projecting all their voices out of their bodies. I found a cozy spot to cowboy and crashed hard.

machine got us all in this photo shoot with my shirt twin. the short time we spent together confirmed that we’re both as fierce as our rad shirts

Sleep was restless and i was awake at about 5. I was toying with the idea of staying awake, and decided against it. Just then, the sprinklers turned on and i was attacked by a deluge of cold water. In a daze i gathered my things and dragged them away, all the while taking direct attacks from these powerful water cannons. part3: why do you still have your sprinklers on when you know that real estate is at a premium on this small island.

everything i rely upon daily was drenched and i was freezing, thanks cascade locks

I layed out all my drenched gear and resigned myself to the waking world earlier than i usually do on trail, because everything was cold. I opted to walk around to try to warm up and dry off. part4: Cascade Locks sux. It’s one road with 3 restaurants, one novelty 50s diner, a grocery store, and a post office. Nothing was open at 5, but thankfully one restaurant opened at 6. While i was warming up and charging my phone i caught a Snorlax which i was convinced would secure my victory against Patient Zero. It was not to be so. When we met up and got linked up to have our fated battle, the link cable didn’t work. It didn’t matter, his team was an average 15 levels below mine, it woulda been a massacre. I’m sad i couldn’t evolve my Kadabra or Graveler tho.

we looked at each other’s teams and agreed that i woulda whooped that boi’s chump ass

The rest of that day i spent with all the cool humans i never thought i’d see again so that was great. There was a free pizza party which ooh baby yes please. The day turned to night and we kept hanging out until around midnight joking and drinking. The meat of the day lies in this paragraph despite its short length. It was a great day, not perfect, nothing so absolute. So many silly jokes and conversations that are lost to time but the effects still live in hearts or some schmoozey bullshit like that

most of the trail jail family #freemushbob

The next morning started off great, free breakfast and also morning beers because of course. Two kids wandered by and hung out with us. The older kid was a bit much but the 2 year old named Eli was working on an ascended plane of human thought and i was feeling it. While we were standing around chatting and procrastinating parting for the last time, the idea was placed for a Portland adventure. Before i knew it i was in a car with Patient Zero’s boy and Maui and Big Boy going to Portland.

We ate at food trucks and drank at two breweries. Our crew expanded to include Dr Pineapple, Hauser, Cheesesteak, City Boy, Dragon, and her two friends whose names escape me but they cool. The last four people split off from us when we went to a rose garden, burrito place, and weird ice cream shop.

we got into this bus and were whisked away to distant shores
i like the purple ones

The night ended at a woman’s house who Dr Pineapple had charmed at a country music festival. She offered her basement for lodging and her piano for entertaining. We stayed up until at least midnight chatting about all kinds of chungus and avoiding sleep.

At seven the next morning Easy Company picked me up and we went on an all day journey with his dad back to Elk Lake. Shoutout to Mr. Company for a fantastic Star Wars reference: he likened pooping before hiking to jettisoning trash before jumping into hyperspace.

I took a very short afternoon on trail and crashed early. Easy passed me for probably the last time, but then Monster and Cheez it showed up! And the next day Princess and Tinkles and oh jeez i don’t know the last guys name but i saw him back by Wrightwood showed up too!

of course i took a break in here

Unfortunately sleep kept a tight grip on me, i spent most of the past two days in its embrace. Miles were mediocre but it felt great.

the lava rocks got together with the smoke and the sunset to give some bomb ambience
i went out of my way to take this picture and i’m not impressed

These PCTers out here need to hit up the AT. Moaning and groaning about some well maintained rocky trail, if the AT was out here we’d be rock hopping for miles. They don’t know how gravy this trail really is.

I managed to get both sides of the country in this one picture! we can see the pct on the left side and the at on the right side

lava fields are super cool, so are these burn zones. too bad the smoke is still hanging out

I had a good curry dinner at the youth camp but left for the night, cutting myself off of breakfast. The hitch to Sisters took a while but the guy gave me all kinds of handouts and almost took me along to a rafting trip and rodeo for the weekend. Sorry dude, if i didn’t have a time limit i woulda gladly imposed on ya’lls party.

also 2000 hype


aww pct days, remembering you only reminds me of all the humans i knew that summer and little else.

i see you, tom robbins book, scattered amongst the wet goods in the grass

portland trip good very good. i missed a photo though:

we was outside of the ice cream shop making jokes. always makin jokes, good times.