Day, or evening rather, thirty four finds us finally in the Sierra Nevada mountains. We are camped on the saddle between Morris Peak and Mount Jenkins. A little to the south east you can see Ridgecrest. Since moving away, I have never really considered the place my home. Nevertheless, this truly feels like a homecoming. Perhaps it is because some of my family is there. I feel in large part it is because I have walked here from the latitude of my previous home. It is still my home, I guess. Siri lives there, my pets live there, I receive mail there. Really though I have relocated. My house is on my back and it moves with me twenty miles a day.
The wind blew all night. We woke up cold and set out in, “Full armor.” All our cold weather gear on. Seven miles cruised by to McIvers spring and cabin. We laboriously squeezed two more bottles out of Dyl’s pump filter before permanently retiring in. Two guys were kicking back on the porch of the cabin. One, Glen, eventually yelled over to us, “You guys want some scrambled eggs?” We gladly went over and formally met them. Glen and another quieter guy. they were camping in the cabin for the weekend and, judging by the two standard issue m-16 assault rifles leaning by the cabin door, were having one hell of a good time. In short order they brought us some white bread, Shed’s Spread, Kraft singles, and whole milk to compliment our scrambled eggs for an all American meal. being perhaps the only time in my life I would enjoy such fare, I ate two sandwiches.
The moment of truth neared. Walker Pass was close. Several kinds of pretty wildflowers graced the path but we were brain occupied. A great relief settled us as we came across a baggy with our names on it duct taped to a tree. it had the new filter and four bonus energy bars. We wouldn’t have to make the twenty mile detour to town. Thanks to Mom we are in good standing to hit Kennedy Meadows night after tomorrow. Tonight’s dinner used the last of the fuel. We’ll see just how good cold instant mashed potatoes are after a long day.
“How much a dunce that has been sent to roam, excels a dunce that has been kept at home.” -William Cowper.