Last night I was rousted by a LEO from where I never asked. He said the road was signed something like no camping w/in 1/2 mile of the road. I never saw it, he said he wouldn’t ticket me. I did not poach my spot: I was uninformed. Officer said closest spot is Dalton wash which is the climb to Guacamole but first I had to drive down in illuminated by headlamps only this beat up single lane rutted road. One place there was a rib of hard dirt separating a gully on one side and the outslope on the other. I steered the right wheels right down it. Prior to being rousted I set up the cold brewed coffee filter which is an open mouthed cylinder about 10″ diameter soaking 3/4 # of coffee and 7 cups of water. This road was surely going to spew the liquid. I single double bagged it tying the tops shut and then a bag inverted over the opened end. I put the filter in the sink. Amazing that it stood upright down this rough road. The highway to Dalton was a breeze. Dalton Wash road is a county road and had been recently graded. The grader blade highlights the rocks it won’t budge. The road climbed while I searched my memory of what the road would lead to for a camping spot. A road side spot opened up while still climbing 1 mile in. Get what you you is better than hoping for what you don’t know. Besides it was late which would mean little traffic. I didn’t know what the morning up traffic would be like. No internet access deep in the wash. The furnace starts first time at camp spot but restarting is iffy. Another 22 degree night. I ran both the furnace and the Cat heater and I was more than toasty while I was awake. Bed time I turned off the furnace. I removed the thermal blanket because of its weight: I would rather be chilly than crushed. I was warm all night
This morning the traffic was about 4 rigs before I left.
Today @ 2:30 the Seahawks play and are televised. Another bar stool @ Jacks. Only 2 Moose Drools. Seahawks won and clinched home field advantage for the playoffs for the second year in a row. Way out of Seahawk land. A couple came in wearing matching Seahawk jerseys numbered 12 for the 12th man which are the fans.
My back is still killing me. Walking hurts. I just check my bike out every now and then on the back of the van.
I am thinking about heading towards Sedona tomorrow. I will make a road trip to Boulder City from Sedona later this winter.
Two weeks ago I received and email from a person that I didn’t recognize. He knew me and asked if I had seen Dave. No idea. Several days later on a ride pieces fell in place. Writer was from Gig Harbor and owned a 2 man logging company. I worked several days for them driving a skidder skidding logs and decking them. And the Dave is the reason I am where I am. In another life I raced dirt bikes back in eastern PA. Dave worked at the bike shop, back then his nick name was Baja. We became buddies. He split for the Puget Sound and we lost track of each other. I was still living in PA and planning my thru hike of the Appalachian trail on my Are You Nuts Expedition. I was quitting a boss’ son job and selling my house to go backpacking. Dave called out of the clear blue and during the conversation he suggested the Pacific Crest that starts in Mexico and ends in Canada. The west was more exciting than the AT. He was in Gig Harbor, WA. I exchanged the AT hiking guides for the PCT guides and changed my plans. I drove my rusted out ’71 VW bus to Gig Harbor and visited for a day then caught a plane for San Diego to start the trail. The PCT had been thru hiked the previous summer. I and about 125 hikers started from Mexico that summer. I camped right at the fenced border. Back then the border was porous. Back then everything was heavier than now. I wore a pair of Fabiano Mountain Masters, a 3/4 shank mountaineering boot. Trail was rough back then. I started having left foot problems caused by a dirt bike crash where I was blipping the throttle on my 250W Huskie. The throttle stuck open driving me into a tree my foot between it and the bike. I smashed my foot, the injury was causing my foot problem I was all but limping. I bailed out 5 weeks or so in and hitch hiked to Lancaster, CA from Mojave to a hospital. XRay revealed the damage, fix was to butcher a toe and splice it to the big toe. Recovery would be 2 months. If I were going to continue I needed to have the foot fixed. I bought a plane ticket and flew back to Gig Harbor. Foot pain cleared up after I quit wearing the boots. I saw a DR in Tacoma who told me of the same procedure. Damn. My foot doesn’t hurt why go thru with the fix. I decided to stay and play in Gig Harbor for 2 months then rejoin my planned hike @ the CA / OR border. Dave and I played and for me the first time for this kind of life. Dave got me a job driving a skidder for another logger. I was a logger. I never became a proficient driver but I could set chokers for the skidder driver. This lasted several weeks till I left to rejoin the PCT. Shortly after restarting the foot pain returned. Turns out the boots were too narrow for my deformed foot. Then it started raining. August 13th in the Three Sisters Wilderness near Bend, OR till Sept 23 a day hike north of Stevens Pass in Wa it rained all but 8 days. Wet and muddy. I dropped off again about 8 days south of Canada. Greg, who was hiking w/ me, got a hitch hike drive all the way for me back to Gig Harbor. I was done. I stayed at Dave’s for several weeks attempting to find a white collar job in a foundry in the Puget Sound. No offer. I returned to Ohio to be Boss’s son again at the main plant. Short story the year I spent in Ohio has been the worst year of my life. I quit w/ no job. I did have a nibble from Dave Mahre, father of the Mahre twins and mountaineer, to work @ the White Pass ski area. The PCT dropped down to the pass but during the tourist season the chair lift ran and you could get a ride down the lift saving several miles and it was raining. Dave loaded us onto chairs and let us stay at the bunk house. That’s how I met Dave Mahre. Dave was on the first American Everest expedition w/ the Whittaker twins. So no job prospect. Dave called Sat morning after my last day and offered me that skidder job and if that fell thru I could put together a firewood cutting gig. I packed up and drove in my Scirroco back to Gig Harbor. Back to connection w/ logging company above. I had no job but a place to stay @ Dave’s. Everyday for 2 months I helped him build his log house. I applied to Boeing and got hired. Dave moved into his house and continued logging while I white collar worked and mountaineered. I last saw Dave back in maybe ’84. Today is ’14 and he called me to say hello and reconnect. No, not a skidder job. He lives around Kalispel, MT which could be on my route next year. That was the back story to the phone call I received tonight. I hiked a little more than half of the PCT and harbor thoughts of finishing up what I missed to finally complete the trail. I will wear wider boots that are less heavy as will the rest of my gear. Gore Tex first generation was showing up. Lots of past stories.
I’m parked back in Hurricane. 24 degrees out and 71 inside w/ both heaters full on. Yesterday it was 50 degrees when I got up which I figure will be the same tomorrow.