Bee-Boopin’ and The Fake Geyser

Day 27

PCT Mile Marker 1339.22 – 1347.78

Miles Hiked 8.56

I woke up to that same long note sounding over and over again. My breath clouded in front of my face.

Isn’t it almost July? Why is it so cold still?

Is it just me? Cuz my name is Icebox?  

What was that weird noise?

Bugling? Was that bugling? Like, a bugling elk?

My pots rattled a bit outside my tent. I unzipped it and poked my head out. A squirrel took off at a sixty-two miles an hour and leaped onto a tree. He scream-purred at me.  

Go Away. He said.

“You go away”, I said. “You had all night to get into my stuff and you didn’t. Missed Opportunity.”

He went away.

My toe was throbbing and felt like I could barely get it in my shoe.  

I wasn’t brave enough to look at it. I figured I would see how I felt about it at lunch.

I am having trouble charging stuff, so I attached my solar panel to my cell phone and put the panel outside my pack.

Bee-boop, said my cell phone.

The path was cool and shady and uphill.

Bee-boop, said my cell phone every time I walked into the sun.

Bee-boop, it said again when I walked back into shade.

Some Southbounders stopped to talk to me in a sun-dappled area.

Bee-boop, bee-boop, bee-boop, bee-boop, bee-boop, bee-boop, bee-boop.

“Hi, sorry I gotta go,” I said.

“Have a good hike!” They hollered as I disappeared back into solid shade.

“SHUT. UP.” It had been two hours, and it wouldn’t shut up. I could barely drown out the noise with my iPod.  

I set down my pack. Disassembled Everything. I looked at the power on the cell phone. It had dropped from 34% to 12%. Awesome. I dealt with that noise all morning for nothing.

It looked like it had to be in solid sunlight for it to charge properly.

Guess I just keep learning as time goes on.

I was in Lassen National Park, and I could smell Terminal Geyser long before I reached the side trail. Sulfur.

I went down the path to the geyser, which is not actually a geyser. It is just a bunch of steam coming from the ground.

I shouldn’t have gone, considering the state my toe was in, but I kinda felt like I had to, since it was right there and all. But I’m marvelously unimpressed by hot water coming from the earth.  

Don’t know why. It just doesn’t do it for me.

I won’t take any side trips like that anymore. 

But I took a photo anyway, like one is supposed to do. And a video too.

The old toe seemed to do better the faster I went. But getting started was awful. Every time I picked up my foot, I wanted to cuss.

Maybe there was a nurse at Drakesbad.

When I got there, there was no nurse. A sweet young lady said she was a massage therapist. Said what I really needed to do was get some tea tree oil and put it on my toe. That would heal it right up!

The buffet lunch was tuna fish sandwiches, potato salad, beef stew, and pasta salad. Well, I can’t really eat most of that, and I still had tuna fish with me, so I packed up to leave when the same nice young lady said she would ask the chef to make me a gluten-free lunch.

He does it all the time for people. She said.

I had just taken my pack back off again and retrieved my wallet again when she came back and said…the chef is grumpy today and won’t make you any food.

So though they say they are hiker-friendly, have free showers, and coin operated laundry, I opted to just walk to the campground.

Who needs showers anyway? Bah.

The magical allure of Drakesbad dissolved.

The campground host said – welcome, choose whatever site you want. It’s $16 to camp here but I won’t check back with you. If you don’t pay, then it’s on your conscience.

What? What a weird place.

He checked back six times.

A guy was prowling around the campground with a DSL camera.  I gave him a look.  “Look,” he said, “A bear!”  He smiled a pointed.

“Oh great.”  My sarcasm dripping down my chin.  How many days have I been avoiding them, and now there’s one in the campground?  Well, he was pretty.  I’ll give him that.  

He was blond, his bright yellow fur shining in the sunlight.  Looked like he just got out of the salon.

I boiled water in my pot and cleaned my foot with soap. I arranged the stove in such a way that if I passed out, I could fall on the long surface of the picnic table.

And then I ran that hot needle into my toe again and watched the clear yellow fluid drain out all over the place.

And I didn’t pass out.

And then I ate a ton of food.

Because I had too much of it and because I’d hauled it around all week, and because I’d be pissed if I did all that for nothin’.

And then I fell asleep because it was 7pm.