Destination: Bingham Ridge
Cumulative Miles: 1701
When we woke this morning the clouds had rolled in, and mired us in their gloom. We lingered in our sleeping bags, not wanting to step out into the cool moist air. With our surplus of food we were able to eat a bigger breakfast to help us face the day, and when we finally stepped out, we could tell the sun would burn off the clouds shortly after we began hiking.
After the first couple hours of hiking, we hit Santiam Pass, where "Catdog" had left a cooler with Beer, Soda, and cookies. The beer was all gone, but we enjoyed sodas and homemade cookies from this trail angel, who hiked the Appalachian Trail not long ago.
Then we continued our northward walk. We (regrettably) chose a suggested alternate route which is roughly the same distance as the PCT, but passes by more lakes and water sources. Unfortunately, this also meant a bit more mosquitoes. Sadly most of the lakes were fairly unremarkable, and so the detour seemed like an unfair trade for the possible ridge line vistas we missed.
In the afternoon, the clouds returned, putting a gray fog across our walk. The burnt forest mixed with an overcast setting sun created a somewhat gloomy end to our day. We were tired and climbing with extra water (for dry camping). The absence of sun depleted our energy and made for a difficult last couple of miles.
At last we arrived at something somewhat flat, and set up camp.
On a less grey note: 1700 miles.
Woohoo!! 1700 miles.
Psycho's brother submitted two mosquito poems, so we'll share one today and one tomorrow. It would be fun to have our readers write their own mosquito poems and post them as a comment on our blog. Visit:
And add your own mosquito poem.
Here's one to inspire you:
Familiar whine in my ear
You settle on my forearm
Prepare to pierce my skin with your proboscis
I raise my had to strike
What if I let you complete the cycle?
You might feed the songbird
Who cheers my day.
Your larvae might feed the minnow
Who feeds the fingerling
Who feeds the pike
Who feeds me.
You might be a meal
For the brown bat
Whose guano fertilizes
Tomatoes for my salad.
But not today.
Deborah K. Frontiera
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