Shelter Cove

We drove up in Steve and Earleine’s big white truck, though we were  hoping they would drop us off a ways back so we could walk in the last little way.  It was a charming little spot. There was a wide bay on the lake, and a harbor full of all manner of boats.  Little cottages lined the road on the other side. The store itself was a log cabin with a large porch, all trimmed in little white lights. Hikers had made themselves comfortable there, unpacking their resupply boxes, eating pizza, lounging about with quarts of ice cream.  Our friend One Pint smiled and greeted us warmly, though she also noticed that we had arrived in a vehicle.  Hike your own hike is a phrase people use to minimize the difference in those who fastidiously hike every single step on the trail and those who will occasionally take a ride from someone or skip a small piece of trail.  But One Pint had a different phrase for us.  “You know,” she said, “hike your own hike, hitch your own hitch, whatever.”  Knowing that One Pint had dedicated herself to walking every step of the way I felt a little ashamed, but knowing how we felt the day before, I also was fairly convinced that if today had been a hiking day it would have been our last.   

It was a little like walking on to a movie scene.  There were members of the hiking community and there were  campers, main characters and those with bit parts and, over in the corner, just out of focus, sat a man in an olive green button down shirt and an Indiana Jones hat.  He looked like Harrison Ford, which exaggerated the movie effect. I watched entranced, as the characters interacted, exchanged dialogue and continued to consume pizza.  We obtained our supply box and packed our food bags, gave some food to an emaciated looking youth with a nearly empty pack, shared dehydrating recipes with people and handed out a couple of Snicker Bars.  Snickers ate a pizza and I cooked up some ratatouille- all I needed was boiling water from the store’s coffee shop.  I really liked our food this year and seldom felt the urge to eat store food. 

It was fun catching up with people we hadn’t seen in a few days, and meeting those we hadn’t yet met.  Harrison Ford wasn’t really a movie star, though we made up a good story about him taking to the trail incognito in order to learn more about trail culture because he planned to produce the story of Cheryl Strayed, whose book Wild. From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail had been on the best seller list.  The news that the movie rights were just purchased by Fox Searchlight and Reese Witherspoon was abuzz on the trail, and though there are a lot of differing opinions about whether increasing the trail’s public profile is a good idea or not, still it is always fun to be noticed in the media.  Anyway, back to Harrison Ford.  Though our fanciful story was more fun, it turns out that Ford was a broker from Arizona, doing just the Oregon section of the trail.  We talked about his grandkids who love trains, dehydrating food,  and general trail stuff. 

I also had a very nice visit with some local campers who wanted to know more about this wild bunch who had overtaken their campground store.  Very intrigued by it all, the campers asked me lots of questions about food, mileage and gear and were happy to listen to my stories.  Then, along came their daughter who was even more curious.  She and I hit it off right away, sharing knowledge of local plants and edible wild foods.  She had even fixed wild greens for her family sometimes.  (Mine flatly refuses.) She ran to her cabin and brought me several plant identification books and said I could use them all afternoon- they were going out to pick huckleberries.  It was a great treat!  I identified the funny wild cucumber plant I had taken a picture of a few days prior which turned out to be, funny enough, wild cucumber.  Not palatable, but edible.  I identified a few more flowers but Snickers needed my help for food packing, so I returned the books to the store and asked the clerk to hold them for my friend, whose name or cabin number I did not know.  I guess you have to walk hundreds of miles to discover that people really are good and can trust one another. 

  

Our friend Chipmunk was due in later that day, so we wandered down to the thru hikers’ camp and looked for a site.  I mostly grazed on huckleberries while Snickers set up the shelter. It’s good to have a shelter around us in areas of population density (to a hiker that means more than four people per square mile) and it looked like we could be in for some wet weather. While Snickers and his feet took a needed nap, and with our shelter secure and nothing else to do, I wandered back down to the store, cracking up over the signs which asked hikers to “please use the porta potties placed in the campgrounds.” They know us too well.   

   

The store closed, the clouds began to gather over the lake, and the hikers sat about on the porch trying to plan what to do for the evening.  We had tried to rent a cabin, but there were none available.  Some of the guys were thinking of camping out on the porch, where there was plenty of cover.  After a while, one discovered that there was a list on the store’s door for people who had rented a cabin but hadn’t arrived before the store closed.  The note informed the late comers which cabin was theirs and that the lights were on and the keys were in the door. I don’t know if anyone actually took advantage of the situation, but there were a few tossing around the idea of squatting in the warm, dry cabins.   I sat on the covered porch with a few others and watched the rays of the setting sun streak like search lights through the dark clouds which had seemed so ominous just a few minutes before. Now those clouds were shining in silvers and golds and turning the sky a vibrant pink. Then came the lightning storm.  The beautiful jagged light cut through the evening sky and lit up the lake below. A young family stood out in the rain watching the day turn to night and enjoying the light show, but those of us who had been out in the rain too many times without a choice were happy to be watching from the porch where we were dry.  I thought about Snickers, enjoying the storm by himself back there in the campground, wondering if I should go join him but I stayed dry watching the storm with my new friends until Chipmunk finally drove up.

When we got down to the campground we found Snickers cozily tucked in beneath our poncho shelter, hardly aware of the storm at all.  The ground under the trees was almost dry, and he hadn’t seen the lightning either- I think he just slept through it. Chipmunk had a new tent and was glad to have the chance to set it up. We sat and talked for quite a while and she regaled us with the story of her drive through the pouring rain. Our friend Razor came by as he was heading to his tarp, so he stopped and shared a beer and a story or two and with us.

The next morning dawned clear and bright.  Chipmunk and I enjoyed hot oatmeal with lots of huckleberries. We were excited about finally getting to take a hike together. Her morning mission, though, was to find someone who could help her place her car up the trail so she could hike longer with us and not have to double back half way through.  She was hoping one of the campers would follow her in their car and then drive her back to the campground after she parked her car at the trail head.  Instead, one of the hikers heard her dilemma and volunteered to drive up later in the afternoon and pick her up in her car.  So this hiker, who is a teacher in real life, handed over her car keys to a complete stranger and trusted the guy (and his girlfriend) to bring her car up to her later on some poorly marked forest service road.  Crazy? not really, it is just easier to trust people on the trail. 

The morning hike was perfect. Chipmunk and I chatted and walked and enjoyed the snacks she brought along.  She was happy to be there and we were happy to have her.  We walked under a deep green canopy and alongside a flowing creek.  There were a few short climbs but our feet felt great and we were happy to be back on the trail.  Because we had eaten breakfast at Shelter Cove we didn’t need to stop for a morning break and decided to make our trail burritos for lunch.  We had planned burritos for dinner the night before, but since Chipmunk didn’t arrive until after dark we hadn’t cooked them.  She brought us some nice flour tortillas and got out her pocket rocket stove to heat up our burrito mix.  At home we dehydrated a can of refried beans (the vegetarian fat free ones) and to that we added ½ package of taco seasoning.  When we packaged it we added ½ cup of instant rice, some dehydrated onions, peppers and corn.  This mix rehydrates cold quite nicely, which we usually do at lunch time or whenever we are by a reliable water source.  Then at dinner we either heat it up and spread it onto the tortillas with some cheese or we just spread it on cold if we are dry camping and don’t want to dirty another container.  Lunch was good, Chipmunk was impressed, and we headed on down the trail.