August 2: Seiad Valley was another one of those tiny little towns in Northern California without a whole heck of a lot to it. It consisted of one building that contained a cafe, general store, and post office. Next door, was a small campground/RV park where you could camp for the night for $15, or hang out and use the facilities for the day for $10. And that was the town of Seaid Valley.

Seiad Valley is located right smack in the middle of our 51st state: the state of Jefferson. What? You've never heard of the state of Jefferson? Well, let me tell you all about it. It seems that many counties in Northern California and Southern Oregon, feeling under-represented in their own states, have been attempting to secede from Oregon and California and found their own independent state, where they would be more accurately represented. The vast majority of the counties in the proposed state of Jefferson are rural, the industries of farming, logging, fishing, and seasonal tourism prevailing. I suspect that the few hundred thru-hikers who pass through Seiad Valley each year make up for a large portion of the town's income. 

I certainly applaud any attempt at individual expression and autonomy, I'm not sure this whole State of Jefferson idea has been completely thought through. (Even though I perused multiple pamphlets on the subject) Firstly, the general store, cafe, and campground; combined with the two ranchers and handful of unemployed loggers are not generating enough income to get those roads plowed every year. (And yes, high up in the mountains, these people experience snow like our own down-east-yankees) Secondly, despite what talk radio says, forming an independent  state will not make it exempt from federal environmental provisions. Plus, building logging roads willy-nilly and clear cutting at will would create mudslides that would pretty much bury the town of Seiad Valley. Which would be a shame. Because it's a lovely, pleasant little town. So we need to make sure it stays part of California and gets subsidized by Hollywood and Silicon Valley tax revenue so it can keep on existing to rage against the powers that be. Rock on!

​

Unlike Old Station, which seemed annoyed that hikers existed at all, Seiad Valley was friendly and welcoming. The PCT goes right through town, past the post office. That was not always the case. The PCT used to pass within a mile of downtown SV, until one big winter when the river overflowed and destroyed the footbridge.  Since then, the trail has been rerouted from a campground down a street, across the motor-bridge, and into town. And despite the 7 miles of road walking (where I saw my life flash before my eyes countless times as pickup trucks with gun-racks roared by going 70 on a one lane road), I rather liked being able to walk right into this town. So keep up your bureaucratic non-sense, California and take years to approve
the bridge subsidies!

Nick and I, along with about 10 other hikers, spent the day consuming delicious milk shakes at the cafe, resupplying at the general store, and laying in the shade at the campground. (did I mention that Seiad Valley was hot? So very, very hot! I was encountering what was becoming my arch nemesis- waiting for packages to arrive. I had my summer weight sleeping bag sent out, since I highly disagreed with the advice from the Yogi guide that I'd need a winter weight bag for the entire trip. Though the mornings were sometimes cold, I was roasting in my bag at night and it seemed ridiculous to carry it when I could ship it ahead to Washington. So I waited in Seiad Valley for my bag to arrive. And ate pancakes the size of my head. And drank milkshakes. And picked blackberries by the side of the road. And did some reading up on the State of Jefferson. And best of all, talked to the people in this little town of 350. They're a really nice bunch. 

Peace, love, and trail magic!

July 31- August2: Finding the right person or group of people to hike with is one of the more challenging and fun aspects of thru-hiking.  It's kind of like vacationing with people: there are some people who are great friends at home, but you don't vacation well together-- you like to get up early and hit the waves, they like to sleep in. You like dive bars while they like elegant dining. You like hanging out with new friends you met at the pool bar, they like to unwind and read, uninterrupted. The reverse can be true: you have that friend who you love to go on trips with, but have nothing in common with in everyday life. Finding these things out takes a lot of trial and error.

I had gone through a lot of hiking buddies on the PCT. Early one, I fell in with Wallaby and Fainting Goat. We made a good team. We hiked well together, had similar schedules, pulled similar miles. We got along well. Then we got separated after a snowstorm. I fell in with Silver and Velcro. We bonded fairly well, though not as well as I had with Wallaby and Fainting Goat. Then we separated at Casa de Luna. I fell in with another group after Walker Pass, but then they moved on when I was waiting for mail at Kennedy Meadows. I reunited with my buddy, Skyline after I took a week off for Vegas, but lost him at Lake Tahoe when HE was taking time off. I was like a pinball on the PCT, bouncing from one group to another, and then flicking away again.

I found the AT to be much different. Groups formed earlier and were much tighter. Sure, groups fell apart and some people got off trail for injuries or personal reasons, but when they got back on trail, they seemed to be absorbed into groups much more quickly. I was pretty much in two groups for the whole AT: the little chick group of Chicklette, Big Spoon, and myself and various other hikers who joined and fell away from the trio. Then I moved on in Hot Springs and joined Subaru, Hawkeye, and Road Runner-- who were my homies for the remainder of the trail. We often hiked with other groups for days or weeks, but our little core was for the most part, intact. The ties were stronger.

It may have been,to a large degree, that the terrain on the AT is so much trickier. It's steeper, rockier, wetter, muddier. There's a much bigger potential to fall and get hurt. We all fell. A lot. And we all stuck pretty close to one another, helping each other up, looking out for each other as we crossed slippery log bridges or scrambled up steep rock faces. The PCT is much more chill. Miles and miles and miles of ridge walking at an easy grade. Hot sun, yes. Lots of water to carry, of course. But no real imminent danger of sliding off a rock face and breaking an ankle. So we spread out more. We experienced the solitude a bit more. We zoned out in our own personal clouds of zen. It's easier to give one another space when there isn't imminent danger at every turn.

The hiking dynamic changed after Etna. 

No, we weren't suddenly climbing up granite rock faces with rebar sticking out, or squelching through boggy muddy fields. But there was a sense on impending danger. After Etna, the one constant on the trail was the smell of smoke.

Instead of leapfrogging back and forth between single hikers and couples, I was leapfrogging with 3-4 person groups, who merged with other 3-4 person groups, and then dissipated again. I spent the majority of the next few days with Nick. 

Nick was a pretty compatible hiking partner. Like me, he was an early riser; small, frequent breaker; foot dipper in streams; and though he had been doing lower milage than I was, he liked the challenge.  And, well, truth be told, he was kind of nerdy. And you know how I am about nerds.

Seriously- that's all I want, a rugged, outdoorsy nerd. Who isn't obsessed with spreadsheets. Somebody who can build a fire, hike for hours, and grasps complex scientific theory. (and can then explain that theory to me). All I want is my own real live Indiana Jones! Is that too much to ask??

Nick wasn't Indiana Jones. But he was pretty nerdy. So we hiked along happily together. 

Plus, the views were slowly starting to fade behind a veil of fog and smog and smoke. It was nice to be able to spend the time talking to somebody.

July 30-31: Etna was a friendly little town that was a nice respite and a good place to restock. I got a ride in with a lady who had just taken her 3 dogs swimming in a creek. (I was in the backseat with the dogs, and probably smelled worse than the three of them put together) One dog was an old black lab, all gray around the muzzle, and very intent on being my friend. He was fond of putting his head on top of my head, and every so often licking my face with his fragrant doggy breath. 

"Oh, that's Sam" she said. "Would you believe he's 15 year old?"

Fifteen is pretty damn good for a labrador! She told me how he had arthritis in his legs and on some days couldn't get up at all. But if he went swimming, he'd have an easier time for the next 2-3 days so she tried to take them to the creek as much as possible.

"Only now, if I bring him, he'll just lay next to the car and won't go in." So she devised a little plan to get Sam swimming. She swims out into the middle of the swimming hole, and then starts yelling "Help! Help!" Sam jumps up, paddles into the swimming hole, and swims around her until she grabs hold of his tail so he can pull her back to shore.

"I kind of feel bad, tricking him," she said, "but it gets him into the water and he always feels so much better after he swims."

She was both a trail angel and a doggy angel!

I stayed at the Hiker Hut in Etna, a little B&B with a "sleeping shed" for hikers and spots to pitch a tent. I was lucky enough to get the last available bunk in the shed. Cause its nice to sleep on sheets with a pillow every now and then. The Hiker Hut had a shower, microwave,fridge, sink for washing out pots and pans, and a hang-out porch with the biggest hiker box I had seen yet. It was lovely.

So here's what was weird about Etna: although for the past few days I saw absolutely nobody on the trail, Etna was filled with hikers! There were about 75 hikers in town at the same time as me. The motel was filled, the Hiker Hut was filled, the town park where you could camp for free was filled (even though the sprinklers came on at 5am and soaked everyone's tent). Everywhere you went, you bumped into at least 5 people you knew.

Right off the bat, I see Mama Goose, Thunderbunny, and the rest of the Warrior Hiker team. I was in the hut with Dentist, Cookie Monster and Morningstar, I ate dinner at the pub with Stryker and his buddies. And everyone said the same thing: "I didn't see ANYONE on the trail for the past 2 days!" Weird. It's like we were all spaced just enough apart to move along and never cross paths. But it was really nice to see other hikers again.

Etna had great food. And unlike most of the other towns along the trail, it was reasonably priced. I ate a brownie sundae the size of a basketball that cost $3.99. And,yes, I did finish the whole thing. And no, I did not regret it. 

My original plan had been to get into Etna in the evening, stay the night, resupply and eat the next day, and hit the trail again around 5 pm the next night, as it was cooling off. But those plans changed.

First of all, fires were breaking out all over the place. Looking up into the mountains from town, you could see at least 5 plumes of smoke from various locations. Secondly, it was 105 degrees and the thought of going back to hike in heat and smoke was not appealing. Thirdly, Etna had a public pool that was FREE! 

In ended up hopping on one of  the bicycles that the B&B had to go to town, pedaling to the pool, and spending the day swimming, chasing shade, and eating ice cream with my 2 new best friends, Firecracker and Nick. And then we stopped by a bunch of bushes on the way back and filled ziplock bags with wild blackberries.

By nightfall, it seemed that most of the fires had been contained. We had a big ole dinner at the brew pub (and another brownie sundae) and arranged a ride back to the trail for early the next day. 

Etna was a gem in northern California! And I resumed hiking with a pack of other hikers so it wouldn't be like hiking in the Twilight Zone.

(David and Vickie Harrison, the Hiker Hut owners, and our trail angel, Dave)

​peace, love, and trail magic!

July 26-29: A funny thing happened after Mt. Shata: the tribe became a lot less crowded with hikers. Maybe it was because people had had enough and ended their hikes. Maybe it was because northern California was turning out to be really hot! Maybe it was because people looked at a map and saw that Ashland, OR was 75 miles away by car and 200 miles by trail and decided to just take a bus. Whatever the case, I found myself alone quite a bit over the next few days. 

Not at first, mind you. I got a ride back to the trail with a couple of section hikers and leap frogged with them and several other thru hikers as we went through Castle Crags park. I especially enjoyed Indiana Jones, a hiker who, after each stop, would resume hiking with the theme song from Raiders of the Lost Ark blasting from his cell phone! 

But fairly soon, the music died away, and I was traipsing along, enjoying the view, and noticing that I was alone for longer and longer stretches. By the time I settled down to camp the first night, it had been hours since I had seen another hiker. And it had gotten cold after we climbed up in elevation! I ate quickly and crawled in my tent, but was joined as the last bit of daylight was draining from the sky by another hiker. He also commented that the trail had seemed especially empty today.

The next day, the solitude deepened. My camping buddy was going south, I went north. I saw scattered hikers, hours apart. It wasn't unpleasant, though. The views were spectacular! The animals were out in full force, handing out, either unafraid or oblivious as I went by. And I had just resupplied so I had lots of good stuff to eat. And, of course, my new shoes. Life was good. The trail was my friend. 

After a while, it did get a bit disconcerting. Where WAS everyone? The second night, I again hadn't seen another person for hours when I settled down to camp. Nobody joined me tonight. And I didn't see or hear anyone go by night hiking. 

The third day was like a twilight zone episode. It was beautiful hike, of course. Nice weather, good temperature. Gorgeous views. 

But I did not see a single person all day. Not one. Not one single person. 

It was weird.

Was there something doing on that I should be aware of? Was the trail closed? Was there a great big party somewhere that everyone else had gone to, but nobody invited me to? Did they not invite me on purpose? Why did nobody like me? 

I don't want to sound paranoid, but I SWEAR it felt like I was being watched!

Late that night, well after I had gone to sleep, I awoke to the sound of someone near my tent. 
"I'm sorry, did I wake you? Are there other spots for tents here?"
"Chef?" I said. "Is that Chef?"
"Yeah. Pink Lady?"
"Yup. And yes, there are lots of flat spots for tents."

The next day, I was up and out while Chef slept in. I saw Dentist and Sunshine (also sleeping in) but then, once again, nobody. Nobody at all until about 3 pm, when Stryker, who I hadn't seen since Kennedy Meadows North, joined me in watering up at a stream.

"Is the trail especially empty?" I asked.
"I haven't noticed." he said. "I has some friends join me at Mt Shasta for a few days and we're ready to kill each other."
Just then his friends showed up, and the four of them took off like they were in some kind of speed challenge. 
​
It was back to me,myself, and I. 

I finally reached the road crossing to Etna about 4:30 pm. I had seen 6 people all day. 2 of them asleep.

I was kind of nervous about getting a ride into town; the road looked pretty deserted. And there was no cell service. But I went to the edge of the road and within 10 minutes, I was in the back seat of a dilapidated car with three wet dogs, on my way to Etna!

July 26: And this was me, back on the trail after Mt Shasta

July 24-25: After 3 days of looking at the mountain, I arrived at the town of Mt Shasta. Many hikers (including myself) had been looking forward to Mt. Shasta because it was the first sizable town since Lake Tahoe. Which meant amenities like an outfitter to upgrade gear, good restaurants, cell service, a decent grocery store. For me, it meant new shoes!

Mt. Shasta was also nice in the fact that it wasn't filled with the meth-tweakers, but instead with earthy-crunchy  mellow, dreadlocked, bongo playing, tie dye wearing, shower eschewing, bare-foot yogis. Lots of crystal shops and cannabis clinics around. It was hard telling the locals from the thru-hikers!

My Merrells had lasted me since Kennedy Meadows, at the start of the sierras-- about 800 miles! And they still looked good from the top. But the bottoms didn't feel good. My feet had been aching for about 2 weeks and it was time for new shoes. The outfitter was filled with thru-hikers and it became like the water cooler at an office-- we were all standing around,showing each other our new purchases, comparing notes on the trail, and catching up with people we hadn't seen in a while. The same happened at the laundromat. And the pizza place. And the movie theater (It was really hot in Mt. Shasta, and the movie theater was air conditioned. And playing Ant Man)

I  ate at a great Mexican restaurant my second night there and ran into Hot Shot with her mom. I was surprised. Hot Shot, in addition to being a wilderness firefighter, was almost 6 feet tall. I figured she' have blown past me a while back and I'd never see her again. Turns out, Hot Shot had been having some shin splints and foot problems and she had made the decision to get off the trail at Mt. Shasta. Quite a bummer, but probably the best decision for her.

Oh, and did I mention that when we asked for the bill, we were told that another patron at the restaurant had paid for our meal. Mt Shasta was filled with trail angels!

Its nice to take a zero in a comfortable town, a town you feel good walking around in. A town where you can browse in bookstores and listen to street musicians and join in on a free yoga class in a park. Mt Shasta was like that. And unlike the last town I unexpectedly zeroed in, Mt Shasta left me feeling rested and serene, not wired and jumpy. Which really is the purpose of a zero day!

Peace, love, and trail magic!

July 22-23: Rumor has it that Northern California is the equivalent of Virginia on the AT. Meaning that people get the "Virginia Blues" because it is the longest state and it feels like you are never going to get out of it, especially after quickly going through the first three states. After the Sierras, many hikers experience a letdown, as we come out of the high elevation and the breathtaking alpine lakes and views every day. And then, California just stretches on forever! More thru-hikers drop out in Northern California than anywhere else on the trail. I actually talked to a British hiker who, upon reviewing his progress just out of the Sierras, concluded that he was never going to finish the trail before his visa expired. "Hike to Tahoe", I said. "Then skip Northern California and pick it up again in Oregon."

My bad.

Because despite all the rumors about the blandness and boredom and skip-ability of Northern California, I was finding that this was my favorite part of the trail. Yes, the Sierras are beautiful. And,yes, hiking 700 miles of desert really is a badge of honor and gives you admission to the bad-ass club. But I just adore hiking through evergreen forests. I love hiking in trees. And I love breathtaking mountain views. This section of trail was providing so much of that! 

I almost forgot how much my feet were hurting and how badly I needed to replace my shoes!
​

Mt Shasta is absolutely stunning, don't you think?

Peace, love, and trail magic!

July 21: Just like the hike into Burney, the hike out of Burney was flat and fast. I covered lots of miles while it was still cool. I made it to Burney Falls State Park in no time at all, for one last try to see if my package arrived. 

The falls for which the park is named are spectacular! Not a bad thing to have to look at as I waited for the mail to arrive. The park was also filled with tourists for the day or car camping, which makes for nice conversation and story telling. ("Yes, just like Reese Witherspoon") I just may have created a couple future thru-hikers! 

Alas, my package did not arrive. So as to not make this trip to the park a total bust, I got a Dr Pepper and ice cream cookie sandwich and then headed out.

Beyond the park, the trail starts climbing again, which is good for views, but bad for tired and overheated hikers. (the air conditioned zero day was all but forgotten once we started climbing) The good news is, the trail provided something even better than air conditioning: rivers!

​

There was a lovely river with deep pool under a bridge that provided some nice shade. I joined a whole bunch of hikers for lunch in the river. It was glorious! Some of these guys were talking about spending the entire day here in the river and they getting the miles in after the sun set for some night hiking. I briefly considered this, but then decided that I really like hiking during the day. So I said my goodbyes and headed on.

I passed several other small groups who had set up in shady spots and were napping. But I continued with my short-frequent-stops-in-the-shade strategy and continued to walk during the day.

Around 5, I crossed a dirt road and ran into Honey Badger -- who had also hiked the AT in 2013. We both had the same ending spot in mind, so we hiked together to Clark Spring, had a nice little dinner party, had some time to chill before the sun went down. Its nice to camp near water, even nicer to camp near water with an old friend!

Peace. love, and trail magic!

July 19-20: Nothing slowed me down on the PCT like the mail. For the most part, I'm a resupply as you go girl, buying food and fuel in town and not bothering with the whole buy in bulk and make resupply boxes thing. It just works for me. But there are some things that need to be sent. Like the guide book pages for the Oregon and Washington. So I had a couple boxes back home that my Dad sent to spots along the trail. One of those boxes (the one with the guide pages) was supposed to be waiting for me at Burney Falls State Park. I already knew ahead of time that it was not from a tracking check in one of the spotty cell phone spots.  I would have to go into Burney.

The walk into Burney was flat and fast. So much so that I hiked 20 miles by 1pm. Crazy, right? Had I not had to wait for that box, I could have hiked into town, resupplied, eaten a pizza and gotten back on the trail to do a 25 mile day with a town stop! Alas that was not meant to be. I was headed into Burney for the night.

​But first, I got my first look at Mt Shasta

Its good that this mountain is so stunning. Because I'd be looking at it for the next two weeks.

But first, Burney. Burney was a small town off the trail, not much different from small towns along any remote trail. Sadly, it was a lot like some of the desert towns we had been through in southern California; the tweakers were back. Yes. So as I checked into the clean but overpriced motel, as I washed my clothes and myself, as I ate at every single restaurant that Burney offered -- I was especially fond of the chinese food restaurant with lunch specials -- and as I consumed a plethora of Dr Peppers and ice cream cookie sandwiches, there was always the tweakers lurking somewhere in the background. Sort of like The Walking Dead.

So after one air conditioned zero day streaming Netflix to my iPad mini (did I mention it was over 100 degrees in Burney) I couldn't take it anymore. I got a ride from a lovely trail angel back to the trail and headed out. 

July 18: Today I was going to hit the infamous and dreaded Hat Creek Rim, a 33 mile waterless stretch high up on a shadeless, exposed rim. (The place where Reese ran out of water and had to drink from a mud puddle) Today was going to take some strategy. My strategy was this: I'd hop from shady area to shady area and then hunker down, doing more miles when it cooled off in the evening. Many people were choosing to hunker down in Old Station for the entire day and do this as a night hike. 

I slept in until the very late hour of 6:30 and then climbed the fence back into the campground. If there was a nearby bathroom with running water, than I was going to use it this morning! All washed up and changed, I got back on the trail to my first stop of the day: the Cafe. The Cafe was 4 miles away by trail and was said to have good food, big portions, and reasonable prices. I was in.

En route to the cafe, I met Hot Shot. Hot Shot was a wilderness firefighter who was headed to grad school in the fall, taking some time off  to hike a section of trail in the gap between  work and school. She was following the development of the wildfires throughout California and Oregon closely. We had a pretty interesting talk-- I never knew there was so much to fire prevention. It's interesting. Reforestation and brush clearing are a much bigger percentage of the wilderness firefighter's work than I ever imagined. And Leave No Trace has much bigger repercussions than simply keeping things pretty and keeping bears away.

We hit the Cafe pretty quickly- flat, easy miles. Hot Shot wasn't eating, she was waiting for a ride (her parents lived close by and she was going home for the day, tackling Hat Creek Rim at night). We said goodbye and I went in to have a big ol' breakfast.

I am happy to report that the people in the Cafe did NOT give me dirty looks or attitude when I ordered my breakfast. They were super nice and friendly . As I ate and charged up the phone, I ended up talking to a couple of guys who had done a cross country motorcycle trip from Connecticut. An adventure of a different sort! They looked like thru-hikers with leather and cotton clothing. Lots of tales to share over breakfast. 

After breakfast, I headed back toward the trail and saw that Hot Shot was still waiting on the bench by the 3rd of the 3 businesses in Old Station- the gas station. I joined her for a soda and walked for about 15 minutes. Wished her good luck and headed for my next stop-- the cave.

Lots of other hikers had chosen to stay near the cave for the day. There were picnic tables and a water spigot. And shade. I ran into Cookie Monster and Morning Star hanging out for the day. I toured the cave with a couple other hikers and filled up with water. It was still fairly early in the day and there was  good cloud cover. It wasn't overly hot. I decided that I would push on to the next stop on my itinerary: the rest area.

Going from the cave to the rest area entailed a big climb- up onto the rim. But after the past few days of flat terrain, it felt good to get come climbing in. Especially since there was a breeze. I covered the next 4 miles pretty easily and arrived at the rest area with some energy to spare.

Once again, the PCT had chosen the longest, most waterless route possible with the least amount of shade. It wasn't that this area of California had no water: on the contrary, there was a river paralleling the rim about 1000 feet below. There was ample shade - about a quarter mile to the right where the forest sprung up. ( I kept this in mind- if it got too hot, I'd take a detour to the shade once again and hang out) Only this time, I could actually figure out why this route was chosen.
​

There was a pretty spectacular view.

The rest area provided some shade, but no water or trail magic (as I had secretly been hoping). I did talk to a guy who told me of a few camping areas ahead. And told me that this area was the hardest stretch on the entire PCT. I thanked him. That is another thing I've noticed: no matter where you are on any trail, people will tell you that THIS is the hardest stretch on the entire trail. Water issues aside, I was on pretty easy terrain today. The Sierras were behind me. And Washington was a long way away. And since I still had pretty decent could cover and a breeze, I decided to hit my next stop, the picnic area.

About 2 more miles along the rim was a picnic area with a privy, picnic tables, and shade. (Sadly, no water or trail magic) But a perfect place for lunch. As I was eating, I was joined by a ranger, out doing rounds. She was stopping for lunch, too. We talked about Mt Shasta, coming up. I had climbed Shasta a few years back - it was pretty hard, requiring crampons and an ice axe and a meltdown or two. She had planned on climbing it this year, but was putting it off, as it was actually HARDER to climb on low snow years (Loose shale and scree the whole way. Sort of like Mt Madison in New Hampshire, but 13,000 feet high) Then she said we had lots of good waterfalls coming up ahead. And that we'd be going by the area where they filmed the movie Stand By Me. And then she told me that this was the hardest stretch on the entire trail. 

After lunch, with the breeze still holding and cloud getting thicker (it might rain) I pushed on. The weather was turning out to be perfect for a stretch like Hat Creek Rim. I can imagine that on days where its over 100 degrees, this may ACTUALLY be one of the hardest stretches of trail. But not today. Today was smooth sailing with lots of views.

On one rest break (no more picnic tables unfortunately) I scored another bonus: cell service! Gotta take that when you can get it. So I ate, enjoyed the view, and gave some updates to people back home. 

As evening was approaching, I hit the famous (or infamous, if you are Cheryl Strayed) cache 22, a water cache near Country Road 22 (and about 22 miles into the waterless stretch). I had been thinking that I had a good chance that the cache would be stocked, since it was a Saturday. I got even better: the guy who currently maintained the cache (I forget his name) and his girlfriend were there. So I joined them and 3 other hikers for not only water, but Sprite, green iced tea, and fruit. We hung out for an hour or so. And they gave me the rest of the iced tea, since they were going back to town and the honey in the tea would attract critters. I decided, at this point, that I would simply camp across the other side of Road 22 in a flat spot. Camping near water was always a good idea. And I had put in some good miles today. 

I set up camp and ate as the sun set and was joined by a few more hikers. There were hikers with headlamps going by doing the night hike thing on and off all night. It's pretty funny, though. For the long, lonely dangerous waterless stretch I had been hearing about, I sure ran into a lot of people today! 

Oh, life is good. And backpacking is one of the best parts.
Peace, love, and trail magic!