Day 41
PCT Mile Marker 1486.92 – 1498.70
Miles Hiked 11.78
The underwear and socks that I’d washed near the river yesterday were dry, so I wriggled into them and combed my hair.
Thus dressed in my Sunday Best, I was ready to head into town. It was going to be my first hitchhiking experience, and I didn’t know what to expect.
The Castle Crags were the main visual attraction on my descent to I-5. Surly and rugged and handsome, they stared me down from the other side of the valley. I found a safe, wide piece of trail and stopped to soak in the view.
I could hear logging taking place down below. The finality of the saw, the crashing death of giants. I felt so sad about it all. But I also had a cardboard box of cookies in my pack. But my stomach turned over thinking that those trees had spent so many years growing peacefully on that hillside. And now the slaughterhouse had arrived. I pulled out my notebook and made a note about it…on paper.
We need to make everything from hemp. Let’s keep our old and wise giant trees okay?
Finally at I-5, I put my pack down and strapped my trekking poles to it. Wouldn’t want to forget them in a vehicle, should I get a successful hitch. I smoothed down my dress and sorted myself out.
I stood next to the on ramp and smiled at passing cars.
Oh yeah, I need to put my thumb out or something.
Somebody waved. I waved back.
Oh yeah, my thumb.
I remembered that I’d made a giant sign on part of my rain skirt that read “Hiker To Town” that was specifically for hitching. I figured I’d move back in the trees and dig it out…
But a pickup truck stopped. And a super nice lady offered me a ride to Mt. Shasta!
And I didn’t use my thumb or anything!
She dropped me at a coffee shop. When I went in, another nice lady bought me lunch and a coffee! I love this place!
I heard someone called the cops on some PCT hikers who were using a power outlet on the outside of the Post Office. Then I couldn’t get into the grocery store because my pack was too big and the aisles too small and I was afraid if I turned around, I’d wipe entire shelf contents to the ground.
So I went to the laundromat.
No Changing Clothes
No Loitering
No Smoking
No Overloading Machines
No Change For $20s
No Access Past 10pm
No Washing Greasy Items
No Rugs
No Restrooms
…geez. I went behind a nearby building and waited for a break in traffic. Then I ducked behind an air conditioning unit and changed into just my jacket and my rain skirt. Everything else I put in a bundle to be washed. I shouldered my pack and went back inside and got the laundry started.
I plugged in some of my electronics and sat down.
My zipped-up jacket came undone on the bottom and slowly started unzipping itself from the bottom up. I grabbed it and sat down on a bench by my stuff. I tried my best to sit very, very still.
Not a stitch of clothing underneath.
Every time I moved even a tiny bit, it would unzip a little further. There were ten people in this tiny laundromat. Why were there so many people? There was no corner that was private, and the whole place was on video.
I was obviously dressed a little weird, so people kept looking at me. Then I was unzipped past the top of my belly button. I couldn’t go anywhere to fix my jacket because I couldn’t leave all my stuff there because I Trust No One With My Items. I was nervous and too warm and I started to sweat.
Laundry was done! Time to move it to the dryer. Ug. I leaned into the washer and removed items with one hand while I held my jacket together with my other hand. If it unzipped any more they’d call the cops on me for indecent exposure.
Then I really started to sweat. I managed to get everything into the dryer, and when the dryer was done, I got everything out again.
Question: How would I shoulder my pack with my clothes falling off?
Answer: Sweat.
I’d been sweating long enough at that point that I just squashed my jacket against my skin and it stuck to me. I faced a wall and pulled my pack on as quickly as I could and kind of ran out of there back to my air conditioning unit. A fight ensued with my zipper and then I finally got my jacket off. And my dress back on. And felt a little more human.
I tried to stop people on the street to ask where I could take a shower. Maybe a swimming pool? In the cycle-touring world, that’s common. I usually paid $2 to take a shower.
Me: “Excuse me, is there a…” Person walked by without acknowledging me.
Me: “Hi, are you a local?” No acknowledgment.
Me: “Do you live here?” Not even a glance my way.
Holy Crap, they think I’m a beggar! They think I’m homeless! They think I’m trying to ask for money!
A vivid and sad look into another sector of society.
Unaccustomed to having my existence singularly ignored.
Awkward. Unsure what to do.
Overwhelmed, I made it to another grocery store. Made it inside the store okay, too. Took off my pack and removed my little mat and tent poles from the back. Needed to make sure I could fit in the aisles. Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack went the tent poles when they fell in the produce aisle and snapped themselves together. They thought it was Tent Time. Embarrassed, I grabbed the poles and took them apart again but then dropped the mat. I had everyone’s attention.
I got some beer but they didn’t have shampoo and I was too frazzled to know what to do next.
The clerk felt sorry for me and bought me a Snickers.
And even though someone’s pack was recently stolen from the KOA, I went there because I didn’t know what else to do. And I really, really wanted a shower. And I was exhausted from all that town stimulation.
And they welcomed me and sold me some shampoo and told me not to leave my gear unattended and the gave me a site with power so I could charge stuff.
But wifi was only available at the clubhouse, so I just sat outside their building until 9:30, drinking beer, blogging, trying to charge stuff, and directing customers who showed up after hours…
“All sites are full except tent sites. Here is the clipboard. If you made reservations, there is an envelope waiting for you over there.”
Repeat about twenty times throughout the evening. Of course I started thinking it was the funniest thing ever when I was on beer four and camper fifteen.
I worked for that site.
I should’ve gotten it for free.