The Journey Part 19

BOONDOCKING

I am sitting in a parking lot at the trailhead on Montezuma Valley Road, in the hamlet of Placita, elevation 4,000 feet, and yet considered desert. Blows my mind, still!  This is the trailhead Bev and Leo will arrive at sometime tomorrow.

I spent part of the day ferrying hikers from this trailhead to the Montezuma Valley Market some five miles away. When I wasn’t doing that, I was walking the dogs on part of the trail, and soaking up 70-degree sunshine.

It’s a tough life.

Oddly, tonight is the first time I have boondocked by myself during this trip, boondocking meaning parking somewhere without power or water hookups, and having those things provided by the Jackery power station and the water supply inside the bus.

Bev and I bookdocked probably five times during the trip, but this is the first time solo, and it’s a bit strange. Sitting in a fiberglass cocoon, listening to the occasional car speed by, hearing the occasional owl, windows blacked out to block light to the outside world, and from the outside world, no homes of any sort within sight, it’s far-removed from my former life on Fir Street N.E., in Olympia.  Honestly, it’s a bit unsettling, being alone, hoping it’s all right to park here for the night, hoping I don’t hear the dreaded knock on the bus in the middle of the night . . . unsettling and yet peaceful. The propane heater is fighting the cold, the little light strip is keeping things cozy, the dogs are sleeping, and all is right in Bill’s world.

I’m sure I will grow accustomed to this manner of camping, but at this moment I much prefer established campgrounds where there are other campers nearby, which is an odd thing to say considering man has always been the most dangerous predator.

It’s been a good day, one of many good days in the last two months, and I have no reason to believe those good days won’t continue. I find my attitude plays a huge part in all of this. If I expect good days, if I’m accepting of good days, the good days seem to multiply.

Funny how that works!

TWO MORE ZERO DAYS

For the unenlightened, a zero, in Trail Speak, is a full day off from the trail, and we have just finished two more zeros as a new storm settled over California, Storm #10 or Storm #55, I’m losing count at this point.

We went back to Stagecoach Trails RV, only about twenty-five miles by road, to avoid the snow, about six-inches of the white stuff falling where we just were, only rain and high winds where we are now.

We are now reaching the point of having a backed-up logjam of hikers in this area, and there are several reasons for that.

Hiking this trail in snow is difficult and, at times, dangerous. There are some seriously steep slopes where the trail hugs tightly to sheer rock, and cover that with snow and it is a crapshoot if you will stay on the trail or go for the mother of all thrill slides.

Second, about one-hundred miles from here, in the city of Idyllwild, a seventy-five mile section of the trail has been closed, for the last month, due to deep snows and dangerous conditions.

All of this has led to hikers proceeding rather slowly, if at all, and approximately five-hundred hikers unable to proceed past mile marker 200.

It’s a mess, to say the least, but there are signs that things will improve, to a point.

The long-range forecast calls for fifteen days of no rain or snow, starting tomorrow, and slowly rising temperatures. All of that should lead to slow melting of existing snows, and improved trail conditions.

Cross your fingers!

It’s an unusual year in a series of unusual years. After the hikers finish, if they can, the first seven-hundred miles of desert, they are going to face about 350-miles of the High Sierra, which have experienced a record snowfall, and heaven forbid if there is a sudden heatwave, melting about 75-feet of snow too quickly.

Many hikers have already said screw it to the weather gods, and skipped California in what is known as a flip-flop, going instead to the safer section of trail in Oregon; they will then return to California when it is safer. Some decided to go to Arizona and hike the Arizona Trail, choosing to return to the PCT at a later date. And others, still have had their will broken and have returned home.

Bev is still out there, and I’m more impressed with her daily.

WHAT DO I MISS ABOUT CIVILIZATION

I am not trying to be facetious, nor am I trying to be insulting, by implying that I am no longer in civilization. We are, of course, in the U.S., in the year 2023, so there are obviously modern conveniences. Still, it’s not like living in a modern city, surrounded by the little extras which we often take for granted.

I miss, weirdly, the vanilla mochas I would purchase from my favorite baristas each morning.  They were a little guilty pleasure of mine, and they are nowhere to be found in San Diego County sans San Diego. Oddly, there are no coffee kiosks in this part of California.  If you want a flavored mocha, you have to purchase it from a machine in some of the convenience stores.

I miss the convenience of knowing certain people in certain lines of work. For example, the dogs’ vet is familiar with us, thus cutting through much of the red tape involved with getting an appointment, or having records transferred, something I discovered today as I drove forty-five miles to try to obtain a flea and tick prescription for Maggie, only to have the vet tell me she could squeeze me in for an appointment in two weeks. I would have laughed if not for the fact that Maggie is a bit miserable right now.  So, I will have to move on to Plan B, as soon as I figure out what that is.

I am now about to embark on a tangent, so I hope you don’t get whiplash from the sudden change in direction.

And yet, it’s slightly related . . .

I dropped Bev and Leo off at the trailhead as they began a 50-mile section of trail. I won’t be seeing them for about four days, give or take a half-day, depending upon how much up and down they are facing in them thar hills.  Anyway, with nothing to do, on a slow angeling day, I returned to Stagecoach so I could work on some of my online, WiFi stuff, and I was pleasantly surprised when I was treated almost like royalty, like a favorite customer returns to red carpet treatment, I exaggerate a bit, of course, but it was nice of them to fuss over me, and it reminded me of something my parents drilled into me at an early age, and I have always tried to remember it, to treat people with respect, treat them in a way you want to be treated, and more often than not, that kindness and respect will be returned to you.  Bev and I have seen that reciprocation most, if not all, of our married lives. We are always greeted warmly by clerks and business owners and others, people we see on a regular basis, and I know, saying this as humbly as possible, that it is because we are nice people who make every effort to be nice to others, no matter their relationship to us.

Karma, baby, karma.  That stuff will come around, believe me, but it will only start with a positive act on my part. I am the conductor of this one-man train, and the steel and gears and engine will go in whatever direction I steer them.

Anyway, what do I miss about civilization? I’ll have to think a bit more on that, but my initial answer is “not much.”  Friends and family, don’t take that personally. I am referring more to the trappings of society than I am the people who make up society.