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Thursday, August 17, 2000
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Vermilion!
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| Today is a lazy layover day. Lodgepoles
pin this odd place to the earth. I sit at the bar outside the main body
of the resort's tiny restaurant. Working its way beneath the skin of the
surroundings is the hum of a powerful generator. Dust hangs like a veil,
kept aloft by vehicles and dogs. There are several of them here here, and
between all the members of the pack, represent a fair number of canine breeds.
Becca and Sean have left, gone away in their dusty RAV4, leaving me with
a slight pang of loneliness. But in truth, they would have been bored stiff
had they stayed. I'm doing laundry. I'm writing. I'm sorting out food, a
task made suddenly easier by Mom's decision to drop out of the trek for
a week. But also, it'll be more difficult. I've got stuff to rearrange.
Mom's been sitting here next to me for a while, chatting about the trail.
I'm sure countless occupants of this barstool have done the same. |
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Sitting at the bar
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A well-deserved break
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The spread
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| 12:05 PM-Happy birthday, Chase!
I am sitting at the VVR bar with Will, sipping a beer. Last night's sleep
on the top bunk was fitful because I was nervous about falling off and my
face was about 6" from the ceiling. We are now in our own tent cabin #2.
Becca and Sean left for home this morning when they realized that we would
be spending the bulk of the day doing laundry and repacking. They have things
to do at home. As late as this morning, I was seriously considering hiking
on. If we took 2 days instead of 1 to do Silver Pass and had no layover
at Rush Creek, that would mean 13 straight days of hiking and I'm tired.I
have decided to ride home with Sam and Mary, rest up and rejoin Will at
Tuolumne. I wish I could go on but I don't have the strength of body or
mind at this point to climb 1500' out of this canyon, down to Reds Meadow
and back out of there. Next time, I'll have a lighter and better pack and
some trail running shoes. Dinner tonight will be a hamburger and pie ala
mode! And more wine! |
| We met Lou. Or Lu. Or Lew (short
for Lewellen?) She's a waitress here, and had served us breakfast this morning.
She sidled up to the bar (is there any other way to approach a bar?) gave
us some water and traded stories with us about through-hiking the JMT. George,
Jay and Dave are lined up next to me now. Three guys headed south on the
JMT. Jay might remind one of Sean Penn, were one in a dark, foggy room and
just had beer thrown in one's face. He's from Boston, but he happens to
know an old Isla Vista resident named Jack Beddows. Proof that the world
isn't all that big. I happen to know the same guy. Not personally, but he
once applied for a job where I work. Emerald
Video. Wild. George is here too. He's got a super-kind face, reminding
us of a cross between, say, Anthony Edwards and a young Charles Martin Smith.
Their buddy George has happily discovered the hiker box, which is laden
with food-Oreos, Ritz Bitz, rice, seaweed-everything for the famished hiker
available for strategic trade. Mom is now off somewhere with Mary, hiking
down by the lake. Mary and her husband Sam are the resupply support team
for this leg of the trip. I'm working on my fourth bottle of Anchor Porter.
A rich, dark beer that has my head ringing with both pleasure and pain.
Clothes in the dryer. Probably done by now. I'm going to see what I can
do about folding them. |
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Edison
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Mary lakeside
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Sunset at Vermilion
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