August 1st
Across the street the bakery was closed for the weekend, so the donut craving will just have to wait. We had a quick breakfast at the CCTG and headed out to the end of town to hitch a ride. We passed Father Surge who shook his head about confiding that Sunday mornings are a tough time to hitch. We continued walking to almost the end of town with Trainwreck, Strut and Tigger. Many cars came by, but they all turned down the road to the church, evidently heading for a 10am service. After about 20 minutes we were starting to think we might have to wait until noon for a ride and hope that someone would leave church either inspired by the sermon to help out our poor lost souls by returning us to the trail, or want to take a Sunday drive into the country. Fortunately we were saved first by a pagan in a pickup truck heading to the hills to worship with a walk in nature. All five of us piled in the back to join him.
At the trailhead we met “Tremor” who was just arriving at the pass. After a quick trade of town update for trail news we were on our way, taking breaks with Trainwreck, Strut and Tigger. Despite a full day of rest, the area near the small of the back is still sore, rubbing raw where the bottom of the pack meets the back. Not an uncommon problem for many hikers. And not very many solutions other than to suffer through it or take time off.
The last two days of rain in th mountains has left somewhat cooler temps and clearer skies. Still some haze, but not nearly as bad as before.
The trail follows a crest line through the Klamath mountains, unlike the sierras where it frequently follows valleys. Here traverse hillsides crossing saddles and open slopes, weaving from one side of a mountain through the saddle to the other side. We pass many rocky peaks and outcroppings. Flat ground and water are scarce since we stay so high up the hillsides so we pick our breaks carefully. We pass a spring and bushwhack 100 yards up and off trail to camp on a nearby saddle.
For dinner we have carried a can of chili to make with instant mashed potatoes. The canned food is a luxury that we afford ourselves since we are only carrying 2 dinners to the next town. In reality, the combined weight of the can and relatively light potatoes makes this dinner about 19 ounces, only a few ounces more than many of our meals.
Our homemade alcohol stove is holding up well. A few stains tell the tale of use but do not affect performance. With no moving parts to break or fuel lines to clog it continues to cook with very quiet efficiency. So quiet is it that unless it is dark enough outside to see the glow of the flame reflecting of the windscreen, it is hard to tell if it is actually burning.
Clouds late in the day have us considering putting the tent up as a precaution. Then a few mossies come out and we hesitate no longer. We put up the tent.
