We all knew it was going to happen, and like any vacation, knowing that the end was drawing near was not a thought we wished to ponder. But as much as we all would have enjoyed staying in the backcountry indefinitely, there was that contradictory emotion of the things that we had left behind. And even though you can never really return, we longed for home.
Just kidding, none of that really happened. I was awoken by the sound of Shelby returning from taking some photos. It seemed everyone else was in the same boat because we all started stirring. Coffee was brewed. Our fast was broken. Shelby offered a prayer on the day and we grudgingly broke camp. The damp was still hanging in the air and the morning was chilly, but the sun came up and things began to warm up nicely.
Our destination lay only a few miles down hill. For the first time in a couple of days, I began to wonder if the Mooseknuckler-mobile was waiting for us or if it had taken a journey to other places without us. All things considered, we really had no idea where exactly the car was. Not that our trust had waned in the days in the wilderness, but there were several options and we weren’t sure which had worked out.
We shouldered our packs and headed down the trail. The chatter that had been almost incessant since the sugar overload of our drive there, was replaced by more silence. I know I was thinking of the solitude and not really looking forward to popping back into civilization. I walked slowly, hoping to lengthen my stay.
The trek out didn’t take long enough. It seemed like we were in the backcountry and then suddenly we broke through the trees and stepped onto asphalt. The car was not there. Next option was a few miles down the road, but we could grab a shuttle if we walked or hitch hiked to the store. KB was not having anything to do with hitchhiking and after her yelling at me several times, we resigned to finish the trek on foot.
I felt like a beggar arriving at the store, despite the fact that there were PCT thru-hikers gathered in the parking lot. Maybe it was my ravishing appetite or the fact that I was buying whiskey that early in the day. Whiskey, Mountain Dew and Funyons, it seemed like a well rounded lunch. The others gathered around and we sat eating and waited for the shuttle. It arrived and ported us and our gear to the Backcountry Center. The Mooseknuckler-mobile was there with a treasure map indicating where they had put our food. A thank you note detailing that the tank had been filled and that they had left a six pack of beer in the beer box with our food, hopefully it would be waiting for us. It was.
And that is why I believe in humanity. Sometimes I need a reminder and this was a good one.
We had a plan pretty much from the start of our trip until this point. It was early afternoon and we had no real idea where we were going to eat, sleep that night. We had discussed staying in the backpacker’s camp, but we also were anxious to put some miles in before the end of the day to make the drive home more palatable. We opted to load up the car and head to somewhere.
If the way I felt was indicative of the group, none of us gave a flying fuck what we did from that point on. This made for a bit of a lack luster decision process for the group. We headed in different directions, took a dip in a hot spring that was totally closed off with some surfer dudes from California and their families. We drove into a campground and turned around because we had no desire to camp that close to people. Then Shelby prayed to the Googles for divine intervention and found the Bristlecone Pine Forest campground just over the ridge.
Sure, let’s go there.
And then the car overheated. We let it cool down and then drove with the heater on until the road leveled out. It never overheated at all after that, for the rest of the trip. Apparently, one of my fans had died and the steep, slow climb was not enough with the one fan to keep things circulating properly. We’re hobos, we improvised.
The campground was all but abandoned. No fees and only a couple of other campers. We set up camp and got dinner ready. I don’t remember eating lunch that day, so I’m guessing our indecision kept us from figuring out how to be nourished. I do remember being very hungry and cranky. It was hot, too.
The day progressed and we got the fire started and I started drinking whiskey. And I don’t remember much else from that night except telling stories that I haven’t told anyone in a very long time. And there was rocking, lots of rocking. Ben thought I was going to fall in the fire.
And then I passed out looking through the mesh roof of our tent at the amazing stars.
The next morning was rough, so we spent the whole day driving home.
P. L. and R.