Kindness at the End of the Road

8:18 AM

The night was damp and muggy, and without a quilt it was still too cold. It’s pitch-dark here in the forest, and I’m completely alone.

I’m not fit and take things very slowly. Against my will I eat, just to regain some strength. I pack up my gear and continue walking back.

After an hour I run into the talkative guy again. He spoke to several rangers — no one has walked this trail in years. He’s going to try anyway. Good luck.

I walk on, thinking about how things went for me. Suddenly a bear cub runs up a tree right in front of me. I take a few steps back, make noise with my trekking poles, and listen. Then another cub appears. Shit, I think — where’s the mother?

I slowly back away, keep them in sight, and keep making noise. Then the mother bear comes charging out of the bushes. I keep backing up, making noise, until I see her leave the trail downhill.

My first bear encounter.

9:13 AM

Ticks are awful creatures — this one was really buried deep. I forgot my alcohol wipes. Luckily I reach a campsite with a privy that has hand sanitizer.

11:57 AM

Back at Devil’s Junction, where the water taxi dropped me off earlier. There’s a group of seven people. Two arranged a taxi, the others booked one for 3:15 PM. When the boat arrives, I ask if there’s room — no luck. I can join the next group.

Total:
14.2 km in 5:14 hours
384 m up, 482 m down

I decide to head back and hitchhike to Mazama. First a quick wash and a swim in the lake to get rid of most of the smell. I need to recover and get real food into my system.

When you sit still, flies swarm you. When you’re in the water, little fish nibble at you.

13:44 PM

I lie on my back on a picnic table, waiting for the water taxi. There’s a light breeze and I hear the water sloshing against the large rocks. Suddenly I hear a low humming sound. I look up and, to my surprise, a hummingbird is hovering right in front of my face.

This is the first time I’ve ever seen this tiny bird in real life.

15:17 PM

Finally, the water taxi arrives. Exactly six people fit in the boat, and I’m all the way in the back on a camping chair. The driver floors it and I tip over, chair and all, against the railing. It’s windy, there are waves, and the boat bounces hard. As long as we’re moving forward, I’m fine with it.

On shore I want to pay, but it’s not necessary. The boat was booked for six people and only five showed up. It was meant to be.

We walk another 5 km uphill together, then say goodbye — they’re heading to their parked cars.

And then there I am: exhausted and thirsty, standing in the middle of a large parking lot.

18:12 PM

I walk along the road to a spot where cars can easily pull over, stick out my thumb, and…

After 30 minutes I get a ride to Mazama. The driver explains that hitchhiking has become harder because of all the day visitors trying the same thing.

My Garmin alarm goes off 🤔 — a wildfire. The sky turns red. The driver explains the fire has been burning for weeks, caused by human error at a cabin.

Meanwhile I look up where I could eat properly. Mazama has only one restaurant. I ask if we could go to another village instead. No problem.

I’m dropped off in Winthrop. It’s a small town that looks like it came straight out of an old western movie.

Looking for a hostel, I find out reservations are online only — problem is, the website doesn’t work. I go to the sports shop, and just before closing time the owner takes all the time needed to reserve a room for me.

19:00 PM

On the street I run into the sports shop owner again. I thank her sincerely for all her help. She even offered to drive me back to Mazama if I couldn’t find a place to sleep. She recommends two good restaurants — one for tonight, one for tomorrow — since I’m staying here for two nights to figure out how to eat normal food again while hiking.

Caesar salad with Moroccan-spiced chicken. Damn. You immediately remember what real food does to your body.

I take a shower, wash all my clothes, and hang them to dry in the small, cozy cabin. I feel blessed.

Good night 😴