Thursday, July 30, 2009
The John Muir Trail
The John Muir Trail. I had never heard of it until Scott mentioned it. Though I had certainly heard of its "big brother", the Pacific Crest Trail. Turns out the John Muir is a relatively short (at only 340km) trail that runs from Yosemite Park down to Sequoia National Park, where it ends on the top of Mt. Whitney. Mt Whitney happens to be the highest point in the lower 48 states, at 14,000-something ft. Of course you have to tack on a few extra kilometres (about 16 or so) in order to actually make it down to a road, unless you can manage to hitch a ride on one of the stealthy planes that occasionally zips by overhead. Anyhow, we decided to hike it. The story will follow in a series of posts over the next little while, as I find the time to get around to it. Here is a listing of the episodes to come...
Episodes:
1. Planning/Logistics
2. Kat in Yosemite
3. The Hike
i) Yosemite
ii) Tuolumne
iii) Toilet matters
iv) Scott's exploding knee
v) Muir Trail Ranch
vi) The Second Half
vii) Whitney
viii) The End
4. Hitch hiking (or, "Grandma, I picked up some hobos...")
5. LA
And here's a picture of me as we started the trail...
A bientot!
kat
Friday, July 10, 2009
600-something km, 4 days
I needed to get to Portland. I needed to kill some time seeing as I had already sublet my room. I needed to save cash. The obvious choice: bike to Portland.
The only problem with this trip, really, was that I didn't have any particular goal in mind other than getting to Portland within about 5 days. And that I wanted to take a different route than Port Angeles -> along the coast, as I had done that before. Oh, and that I shouldn't tire myself out too much since I have to hike a whole bunch starting next week. You might think that would be enough restrictions to make for a good trip, but I found that I was somewhat lacking in direction. Like on the second day, when I was already closer to the ferry that was headed towards Seattle than the one going back towards Port Townsend. I had *planned* to take the Port Townsend/Highway 101 route, but suddenly I was torn between that and going through Seattle - maybe taking some time to actually look around downtown which I have been meaning to do for a little while. But then going to Seattle would mean finding something to do with my bike and gear for the day, and probably trying to connect with an acquaintance there for a place to stay for the night, and somehow it just felt like too much effort. I guess when I say that my trip lacked direction, what I mean is that the potential was there for me to really enjoy the journey - as more than just a means for getting from Point A to Point B - yet given that my mind had not focused that way from the beginning, I found it difficult to avoid fixating only on the goal of getting to Portland.
And even in that I felt that my trip was mediocre, as, having taken the route I did in the time I did, I now believe that I could relatively easily bike from Vancouver to Portland in only two days - and to have done that would have felt like a real accomplishment too. Oh well, someday, maybe.
Anyhow enough about what could or might have been. It really wasn't as bad as I'm making it out to be.
Tuesday morning, I packed up my backyard camp in Vancouver at 5AM, said farewell to Spatz, and zipped down to the Skytrain Station. I made sure to stop at the bank machine and print out the balance of my account en route in case I was asked too many questions at the border (like the last time I biked to Portland). I took the Skytrain to King George Station in Surrey in order to save myself some time and about 20km of city riding, as I felt like my goal for that night was pretty ambitious: a couchsurfer's house on Whidbey Island, about 180km away. The ride was straightforward from the skytrain station - just follow the King George Highway and later some signs for the bike-friendly route towards the border. The border crossing was painless, and I was on the other side by about 9am.
I wasn't sure if I would have to do some riding on the I5, though I hoped to avoid it and knew I could take Chuckanut Drive once I got to Bellingham. My map didn't show a lot of detail, but it looked like there was a smaller road paralleling the I5 for at least the first section. As it turned out, I managed to avoid the I5 (other than a few crossings) all the way to Portland. Mostly I just took whatever road looked to be going the right way, though I did ask for some help at a Visitor Centre in.. Fernwood, I think it was called?.. just before Bellingham. The fellow there recommended I cut across to the East and take Northwest Dr into town, which I think was definitely the way to go.
It was interesting going along Chuckanut Drive and through the Padilla Bay area by bike, as I was there by car in March and already felt like I knew the area fairly well. I managed to take a trail along the edge of Padilla Bay for a few miles - that was a nice alternative to the road. Once I crossed over onto Whidbey Island, I had been thinking about taking a longer route to avoid the construction on the main road that had looked so unpleasant for cycling back in March and still was not complete. As it turned out, a special bike route detour had been marked with signs, so I just followed that instead. It sure is nice when consideration is actually made for non-motorized travelers in such situations!
When I finally got to the town of Coupeville (sometime around 5pm), I gave my couchsurfing host a call and he reminded me that he doesn't actually live in Coupeville, but rather at the Southern end of Greenbank, another 15 miles down the road. I had forgotten about that detail. I was just glad that I didn't have to go 15 miles back whence I had come! Anyhow, in the end it was a 190km day - a good accomplishment. I didn't even feel particularly sore or stiff, but it sure was nice to take a break from pedaling. Luke, my couchsurfing host, was very kind and welcoming. He introduced me to his and his wife's dogs and their 80lb pet tortoise. And the hamster named.. er.. Hannibal? I had my first sleep on a mattress larger than a thermarest for about a week and it was wonderful!
Day 2, like I said, I was faced with some indecision about whether to alter my plans and go through Seattle or to stick with he original idea of going through Port Townsend and down highway 101. Somehow Seattle felt like too much effort (though it sure would have made the cycling trip a lot shorter), so instead I biked back in the direction of the ferry. I arrived with a lot of time to kill, so I assembled my hula hoop and spun around a little in the parking lot before going to get a bite to eat and warm up at the cafe.
I found Port Townsend to be a really pretty little town. I stopped at the bakery and at the food coop to refuel, but decided to carry on down the road quickly thereafter. I do find this solo cycling touring business to be a little tricky sometimes, as it often feels like too much hassle to unload and lock up the bike in order to do anything else. Maybe I shouldn't worry so much about leaving my gear unprotected, but it would have been a real pain on this trip if anything had gone missing. Anyhow.
In order to avoid both the really busy route and having to go up and down a whole bunch of peninsulas, I decided to cut across in the direction of Port Angeles to connect with highway 101. Unfortunately this did make the incredible inefficiency of my route strikingly clear: by the time I got to the junction with highway 101, it was after noon on my second day of cycling. Had I taken a ferry to Victoria the night before and caught the ferry to Port Angeles that morning, I would have biked many hours and dozens of kilometres less in order to arrive Earlier at the same point. Oh well. Maybe this is part of what made me so tired that day (and maybe the 200km I had biked the day before had something to do with it too?).
In any case, as soon as I crossed the boundary into the Olympic National Forest and noticed a little platform tucked behind some trees on the side of the road, even though it was only 5:30pm, and I had only gone about 70km, I decided it was time to set up camp for the night. I was happy to find that the huckleberries are already ripe and plentiful south of the border.. mm mm!
Now, on day 3, I did set my alarm for about 4:30am (given that I was in bed by about 7, I thought I would get a nice early start), but for some reason I started to get a little spooked about cougars (of all creatures) and was reluctant to be creeping around dismantling camp in the dark. Also I was still tired. So instead I slept and slept and didn't get on the road again until 8ish.
I was feeling strong again, especially once the sun came out. I stopped at a little beachside park to hula hoop and stretch and snack - it was a beautiful day! The riding along the coast was calm and pretty and peaceful. That is, until I began to approach the town of Shelton. There the highway widened and suddenly became incredibly busy and really was not much fun at all. So I decided to take an exit into town in order to look for a visitor centre to inquire about alternative routes.
Well, on the way, I found the town library so I ended up stopping there instead to use the Internet and look up biking options while I was at it. I did find a great step-by-step route description for a much larger ride on Bikely.com. It encompassed the section from Shelton to Olympia that I was interested in, and it looked like it didn't involve too many extra kilometres, yet largely avoided the 101. Perfect! I quickly jotted down notes like "L on SE Lynch", "R on SR108 Old Olympic Highway", etc in my little notebook, checked email, chatted with friends, etc, and before I knew it my 30 mins of Internet time was up. I felt like it would have been nice to have jotted down the approximate distances in addition to my R's and L's, or at least to have gone back and double-checked what I had written against the instructions, or maybe to sketch a little map, as I had been a little distracted by my other Internet activities and did realize that even accidentally swapping one R and L could lead me to head in completely the wrong direction, and that I would have no way of knowing I had gone the wrong way until some hugely obvious clue like say the end of the road appeared. (Do you detect any foreshadowing here?). Anyhow, yes, all of these thoughts crossed my mind.
Yes, I did actually intend to stop at a visitor centre after the library to ask for a more detailed map and confirm my instructions, but I didn't happen to see it, and I was too lazy to look for it. Instead I stopped quickly at a Pizza Hut to ask how to get back to the 101 (a different way than I had come in, at the south end of town). There were 2 employees at the pizza hut. Both getting towards being middle-aged. The woman gave me the funniest bewildered look - what I read in it was a woman who had never left the town of Shelton in her life and who couldn't imagine anyone ever wanting to (though I'm sure this was not the case, but really that's the impression it gave). The guy paused for a moment then told me I'd have to head up the road for a few miles and that I would intersect it up near the top of the hill. (Really I think all the bewilderment came from the fact that I was biking and also the fact that the route really was not very bike-friendly: narrow shoulders, lots of traffic, and fairly steep). Anyhow, I did make it back up to the highway.
So I rode along for a wee bit, then I came to a sign that said "SE Lynch Rd". I could go right or left. I consulted my notebook: "L on SE Lynch". I was a little puzzled by the fact that the next instruction was "L on Kamilche Ln", as this seemed to be enough lefts to send me right back into Shelton, but I figured there might be some funny curves in the road and decided to proceed. Now, in addition to the double left, the other thing that made me hesitate ever so briefly was the fact that, in glancing at the little map on the bikely site, I kinda thought my first little detour off the 101 was on the right side of it. And that it didn't last for very long. So my doubts about my route grew as I proceeded along SE Lynch, which was not making the right sorts of curves to cause a left turn off of it to lead away from Shelton. And after I passed the 2 mile, then the 3 mile marker with no sign of Kamilche, I really started to get suspicious. Furthermore, there seemed to be a lot of signs for waterfront properties for sale on my right side, and I would have expected to be heading the the rightward direction soon enough in order to eventually reconnect with the 101.
In my defense, there were also factors that contributed to me believing in the route I was taking, like the fact that the librarian who had let me leave my bike inside had said something like "oh, are you taking Kamilche road? That's really pretty" - this little comment made me suspect Kamilche might be some nice route along the water. And hmm.. I thought there were other factors.
Anyhow, I rode and rode and at about mile 5 I did pull out my state-level map to try to guess which road I was on. I saw one on the map that looked approximately right - it was definitely taking me a little out of my way, but if I did head right I could see that I would eventually loop back in the direction I wanted to go. And hey, I was really enjoying the peacefulness of Lynch Rd after that nasty stretch of the 101.
It wasn't until I got past mile 8 and suddenly the road veered left with a sign saying "<- Shelton" that I became absolutely sure I was on a road to nowhere and that I would have to ride all the way back to the highway on the same road I had just taken. So altogether a 16.5 mile detour. And I was already planning on a pretty long day. Oops. Needless to say, I was a lot more careful about following the rest of the directions in my little notebook, but happily the rest of them all worked out beautifully so I did avoid a lot of highway riding.
Oh my I have way too much to say about day 3. Fast forward to Olympia, where I hopped on to the system of bike trails through the woods that my mom had mentioned. Beautiful easy riding for mile upon mile through Olympia and beyond! I decided to camp on the trail since there were some nice spots beside it and that way I could experience more trail riding in the morning - I was savouring it.
Unfortunately, camping is where big story number 2 of day 3 comes in. Maybe I can keep it brief. So like I said, I passed a lot of nice spots, many of which didn't have "no camping" or "private property" signs, surprisingly. But I tend to like hiding my tent a little, especially when traveling alone. So eventually I opted for an area of low bush with a few young fir trees here and there on the right side of the trail. To the left was a barbed wire fence containing farmland and farmhouses and strung with private property signs. The bush I had to get through was fairly dense and a bit of a maze to pull my bike through, but I scouted it out and found a nice little sort-of-clearing big enough for my tent in a patch of evening sunlight (it was still only 7:30pm or so), and proceed to haul my bike towards it. No one had seen me leave the trail, so I felt snug and safe. That is, until I heard the shots. Someone was shooting at something over on the other side of the trail, beyond the fence. It was a little unnerving, especially when I heard a dog scampering around - the kind of dog that would probably find my scent interesting and that would happily follow it through the bush, leading its gun-wielding owner towards me. I kept my helmet on (so I would hopefully look very unlike a deer) and stood listening in my patch in the bushes, wondering if I was in danger. I began to reason with myself that surely the hunter would stay on his side of the fence. I should be fine. And he'd probably go to bed pretty soon. And there were no signs saying I couldn't camp or trespass or anything where I was. Then I got to thinking how there were also no signs saying "no hunting". And then I started to hear a different set of shots over in another direction. I didn't know which side of the trail/fence they were coming from. eek! By this point I had decided to abort and was ready to hightail it out of there, just happy to be alive, but I had a wee problem. To get back to the trail would involve hauling my bike back through the maze of bushes - this would involve a lot of rustling sounds and might make me seem very deerlike indeed. I loaded everything up - made sure all was secure - took a deep breath - and made it back to the trail in record time. I don't think I even heard any more shots after that, but still I was happy to just keep biking for a good long way in order to get out of there.
Further on down the trail, I did find a beautiful camping spot in some tall grass right next to the trail and alongside a broad open field. I didn't care that I was pretty visible from the trail at that point - there was hardly any more traffic on it anyhow. I set up my tent and had a wonderful shot-free sleep :).
Almost done! Day 4 I decided to again try waking up early (no cougar concerns this time). At 4:50 when I looked out onto the field, the still nearly full moon was shining brightly and a low morning fog was starting to lift off of the grass. Dawn was breaking by the time I got packed up and back on my bike and my morning ride was beautiful. My fingers were frozen since I had lost my gloves the day before, so I had to stop to warm them up every once in a while. It was nice to stop for a hot apple cider at a roadside store somewhere south of Tenino. I think the highlight of the day was buying some delicious Ranier cherries at a fruit stand, attaching the bag to my handlebars, and eating cherries as I pedaled down the road. From Castle Rock southward, the road got busier and busier (even though I was on the "quiet" one paralleling the I5), and I really didn't enjoy the cycling much between there and Portland. Though I did have an amazing tailwind between Ranier and Scappoose - biking up the Columbia River was hardly any work at all! Since there wasn't much to stop and see and because I had had such an early start, I ended up biking all the way to Portland (about 215km by the time I arrived at Barb and Steve's house around 7:30pm).
Now I'm here, refreshed, went to the farmer's market this morning, and just need to figure out what to do with my few days in Portland! (I think I'll avoid doing too much cycling!)
kat
ps. a rough route map is here.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
a couple of hikes and things
After reading my mom's blog and her comment that she was going to take a look at mine for updates, I feel that I really should write a little something here. So much has happened in the last few weeks, and it still feels like my summer has just begun!
First there was my last week of work: accompanying about 43 grade 6es (and 3 other teachers) to a French Immersion summer camp-like thing in Powell River (CLAN = Centre de Leadership et Aventures en Nature, if I remember correctly). It was pretty nice to be paid for participating in such activities as rock climbing, kayaking, outrigger canoeing, mountain biking, camping, playing fun games, etc., not to mention being fed well all week too!
Instead of going back home with the busload of students, I was dropped off in the town of Sechelt, where I spent an afternoon snoozing on the beach and painting with my watercolour crayons. Then I walked 4km down the road to the campground, where I napped some more as I waited for my friends to show up from Vancouver. We proceeded to spend the weekend paddling and feasting in Sechelt Inlet, managing somehow to fend off rainy weather despite ominous-looking clouds.
Next a quick stop in Vancouver to exchange paddling gear for camping gear, then I was off to the island to have a quick visit with Matt, Lori, and Gerry before meeting up with Kit to take the Lady Rose to Bamfield and hike the West Coast Trail. The trail was of course beautiful, the cable cars were fun as always, and I really enjoyed the sea caves near the south end. I thought it worked well to hike from North to South, as, in addition to having lighter packs for the more challenging end, the fact that more difficult terrain was coming helped to maintain my interest in the hike. While the idea of ending easily sounds more appealing initially, I think that it also makes me want to just rush to the end of the trail once I have finished the hard part. This way, I found that it was easier to just take each day as it came and enjoy the journey. Another big highlight of the trail was the great people we met: a trio from Saltspring, a near-neighbour from Nanaimo traveling with an exchange student from Copenhagen, a couple from Britain, and a couple of adventurous lads who had met each other in Prince George. I suppose that is one of the advantages of Not traveling in an enormous group, in which one tends to socialize only with one's companions.
ooh and: Before and after the WCT, it was grand to stop at my mom's house for delicious strawberries, cherries, and raspberries too! And to load up on goodies at the Nanaimo Bakery!
After the hike, it was back to Vancouver to camp in my backyard with Spatz for a couple of nights (I have sublet my room and the house is full!).. then Scott and I hopped on the Greyhound to Manning Park for our warm-up hike in preparation for the John Muir Trail. We weren't sure exactly what hike we'd be doing when we arrived, but soon decided to go for a 120-ish km loop, mainly in Washington, and starting on the Pacific Crest Trail. Even though we didn't start hiking till 11 day 1, we still managed to get in about 25km or so, given that we didn't stop until perched in an alpine meadow near the remains of an abandoned camp at 9:30pm. Day 2 the initial plan was to cover about 50km (or more?) in a grand loop that would lead us over some ridges, down more than 1km to Ross Lake, back up about the same distance, across about 4 or 5 passes, and back on to the Pacific Crest Trail. When we first woke up, we had our doubts, but still thought it might be do-able. After the enormous descent and some dehydration which was finally relieved by the creek at the bottom, the doubts had grown considerably. After several kilometres along the creek involving weaving our way over and under blown-down trees and whacking a path through the bushes completely obscuring the trail and finding our progress to be quite slow indeed, I had become convinced the grand loop was probably physically impossible. Scott became convinced that it would surely result in tears all around, though he was adamant that it was possible, despite his injured and swelling calf. Thankfully, we bailed and went with option B: to hike the much-better maintained route paralleling the shores of Ross Lake then to trek back to Manning Park Lodge over Skyline Trails I and II, thereby saving ourselves about 20-30km. So day 2, we were refreshed by a swim in the perfect-temperature waters of Ross Lake, and we ate our dinner at a picnic table in a lakefront car-camping-ground. Unfortunately, this route also caused us to experience the most awful 5km of hiking ever: we had to take the road from Ross Lake to the Skyline Trail. The road is dusty and hard with little rocks that can all be felt through the soles of our matching runners and which irritated the blisters on and between all of my toes to no end. Every time a car passed (which many did, though none offered us a ride), a great cloud of brown dust filled the air and never had time to settle before the next car came through. There was no escape. Also the mosquitoes were absolutely horrible. Ok, but why am I dwelling on the worst part of the trip? Anyhow. That night we camped about 1km up the Skyline II trail, en route to Mowich camp. We had probably covered about 37km. Day 3 (today) was gorgeous hiking through alpine meadows involving a Lot of climbing and a lot of descending. It certainly was pretty... flowers of every colour blooming along the trail and on the hillsides. I especially like the little star-shaped ones and the ones that make a purple/green carpet on the ground. I can't say that I found the day incredibly enjoyable at the time though, as my feet and legs were tired nearly the whole day, and I was having trouble embracing the pain of the blisters between my toes. Also the sun was very hot - near the top of the last big climb when we had started our 2.5 hour rush towards the bus, I was hit with some dizziness and nearly began hyper-ventilating... but these were cured by a brief pause in the shade and the swapping of my found navy blue hat with Scott's nice white one (definitely bringing a light-coloured hat with me to California!!). Yes, rushing. The difficult part about today was the fact that our bus was scheduled to leave the Manning Park Lodge at 5:15pm. By 2:30, we were still at least 11km away, and not yet at the top of the final high summit. So we pushed ourselves, aching, up the hills and then we ran, ran, ran down down down to Lightning Lake. At the road, we speed-walked down the roadside watching the minutes tick by. Finally at 5pm, still at least 2km from the Lodge, a car responded to our hitch-hikers thumbs and stopped to give us a lift. Whew! As it turned out, of course, the bus was 1hr and 15mins late - if only we had known that earlier! 23ish km before 5pm can make for a tough day. Still, I was feeling pretty refreshed and well-rested after our 4 hour bus ride (naptime!) and a super shower (that's why I'm still up!)... but it is wearing off again and I think it is time for Spatz and I to curl up in the backyard once again.
good night!
First there was my last week of work: accompanying about 43 grade 6es (and 3 other teachers) to a French Immersion summer camp-like thing in Powell River (CLAN = Centre de Leadership et Aventures en Nature, if I remember correctly). It was pretty nice to be paid for participating in such activities as rock climbing, kayaking, outrigger canoeing, mountain biking, camping, playing fun games, etc., not to mention being fed well all week too!
Instead of going back home with the busload of students, I was dropped off in the town of Sechelt, where I spent an afternoon snoozing on the beach and painting with my watercolour crayons. Then I walked 4km down the road to the campground, where I napped some more as I waited for my friends to show up from Vancouver. We proceeded to spend the weekend paddling and feasting in Sechelt Inlet, managing somehow to fend off rainy weather despite ominous-looking clouds.
Next a quick stop in Vancouver to exchange paddling gear for camping gear, then I was off to the island to have a quick visit with Matt, Lori, and Gerry before meeting up with Kit to take the Lady Rose to Bamfield and hike the West Coast Trail. The trail was of course beautiful, the cable cars were fun as always, and I really enjoyed the sea caves near the south end. I thought it worked well to hike from North to South, as, in addition to having lighter packs for the more challenging end, the fact that more difficult terrain was coming helped to maintain my interest in the hike. While the idea of ending easily sounds more appealing initially, I think that it also makes me want to just rush to the end of the trail once I have finished the hard part. This way, I found that it was easier to just take each day as it came and enjoy the journey. Another big highlight of the trail was the great people we met: a trio from Saltspring, a near-neighbour from Nanaimo traveling with an exchange student from Copenhagen, a couple from Britain, and a couple of adventurous lads who had met each other in Prince George. I suppose that is one of the advantages of Not traveling in an enormous group, in which one tends to socialize only with one's companions.
ooh and: Before and after the WCT, it was grand to stop at my mom's house for delicious strawberries, cherries, and raspberries too! And to load up on goodies at the Nanaimo Bakery!
After the hike, it was back to Vancouver to camp in my backyard with Spatz for a couple of nights (I have sublet my room and the house is full!).. then Scott and I hopped on the Greyhound to Manning Park for our warm-up hike in preparation for the John Muir Trail. We weren't sure exactly what hike we'd be doing when we arrived, but soon decided to go for a 120-ish km loop, mainly in Washington, and starting on the Pacific Crest Trail. Even though we didn't start hiking till 11 day 1, we still managed to get in about 25km or so, given that we didn't stop until perched in an alpine meadow near the remains of an abandoned camp at 9:30pm. Day 2 the initial plan was to cover about 50km (or more?) in a grand loop that would lead us over some ridges, down more than 1km to Ross Lake, back up about the same distance, across about 4 or 5 passes, and back on to the Pacific Crest Trail. When we first woke up, we had our doubts, but still thought it might be do-able. After the enormous descent and some dehydration which was finally relieved by the creek at the bottom, the doubts had grown considerably. After several kilometres along the creek involving weaving our way over and under blown-down trees and whacking a path through the bushes completely obscuring the trail and finding our progress to be quite slow indeed, I had become convinced the grand loop was probably physically impossible. Scott became convinced that it would surely result in tears all around, though he was adamant that it was possible, despite his injured and swelling calf. Thankfully, we bailed and went with option B: to hike the much-better maintained route paralleling the shores of Ross Lake then to trek back to Manning Park Lodge over Skyline Trails I and II, thereby saving ourselves about 20-30km. So day 2, we were refreshed by a swim in the perfect-temperature waters of Ross Lake, and we ate our dinner at a picnic table in a lakefront car-camping-ground. Unfortunately, this route also caused us to experience the most awful 5km of hiking ever: we had to take the road from Ross Lake to the Skyline Trail. The road is dusty and hard with little rocks that can all be felt through the soles of our matching runners and which irritated the blisters on and between all of my toes to no end. Every time a car passed (which many did, though none offered us a ride), a great cloud of brown dust filled the air and never had time to settle before the next car came through. There was no escape. Also the mosquitoes were absolutely horrible. Ok, but why am I dwelling on the worst part of the trip? Anyhow. That night we camped about 1km up the Skyline II trail, en route to Mowich camp. We had probably covered about 37km. Day 3 (today) was gorgeous hiking through alpine meadows involving a Lot of climbing and a lot of descending. It certainly was pretty... flowers of every colour blooming along the trail and on the hillsides. I especially like the little star-shaped ones and the ones that make a purple/green carpet on the ground. I can't say that I found the day incredibly enjoyable at the time though, as my feet and legs were tired nearly the whole day, and I was having trouble embracing the pain of the blisters between my toes. Also the sun was very hot - near the top of the last big climb when we had started our 2.5 hour rush towards the bus, I was hit with some dizziness and nearly began hyper-ventilating... but these were cured by a brief pause in the shade and the swapping of my found navy blue hat with Scott's nice white one (definitely bringing a light-coloured hat with me to California!!). Yes, rushing. The difficult part about today was the fact that our bus was scheduled to leave the Manning Park Lodge at 5:15pm. By 2:30, we were still at least 11km away, and not yet at the top of the final high summit. So we pushed ourselves, aching, up the hills and then we ran, ran, ran down down down to Lightning Lake. At the road, we speed-walked down the roadside watching the minutes tick by. Finally at 5pm, still at least 2km from the Lodge, a car responded to our hitch-hikers thumbs and stopped to give us a lift. Whew! As it turned out, of course, the bus was 1hr and 15mins late - if only we had known that earlier! 23ish km before 5pm can make for a tough day. Still, I was feeling pretty refreshed and well-rested after our 4 hour bus ride (naptime!) and a super shower (that's why I'm still up!)... but it is wearing off again and I think it is time for Spatz and I to curl up in the backyard once again.
good night!
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