cyberhobo

Month: July 1996

  • Day 84

    Tearing ourselves away from Ameratti’s, we set our feet slowly moving up the steeply climbing trail. We both reach the verge of sickness fighting up the climb with our heavy packs, though we are veterans of such climbs. Eventually we are cheered by impressive Castle Crags, the refreshing streams, and the abundance of life that…

  • Day 83 (Pete)

    We made pretty quick work of the sixteen miles to town. What appeared initially to be a simple shortcut on an abandoned jeep road turned out to be quite a bit of thicket crashing and steep slope stumbling. Nevertheless, it did shorten the route. The Sacramento River offered up the reward of some deep green…

  • Day 83

    I will always associate the Sacremento River with Paradise On Earth. Never has water made me feel so good. After our grueling hot descent to Castella, we splash in it for an hour. During the afternoon we hang out Interstate-side at Ameratti’s Market in Castella, pigging out. I break down and buy a paperback. Park…

  • Day 82 (Pete)

    Squaw Valley Creek bubbles by not more than ten feet from me. It is a beautiful moderately sized stream that descends to us from plateaus at the base of Mt. Shasta. The path the river has cut leads it over boulders into wide deep pools framed by low granite outcrops. Dylan got in long enough…

  • Day 82

    At my insistence, we push hard through the hot but shady forest hills to reach Squaw Valley Creek for a swim. Nothing can occupy my mind but the image of its cool fresh water. When we finally reach it the day is cooling off, but I enjoy a swim anyway (at the expense, perhaps, of…

  • Day 81 (Pete)

    Today was a really nice day though I am still inexplicably very tired. Perhaps my head office has notified the rest of the body that the works are shutting down soon. Spent from the endless labor, thought of the coming end must have triggered a premature shutdown. We traded back and forth all day between…

  • Day 81

    Perhaps in anticipation of rest, our bodies are sore even after fewer miles. We don’t cut back as much as maybe we should, both of us have a tendency to drive forward. Still, our minds are easy and the trail pleasant. Unable to find a decent camping spot, we plop down by the side of…

  • Day 80 (Pete)

    Patrick and Kay, a couple in their 40’s headed south, told us of a place north of Burney they had dubbed the “Horizontal forest.” Fierce winds had felled groves and groves of trees. The blow downs created a dense mish-mash jungle-gym of obstacles. As we were only near Terminal Geyser at the time we sort…

  • Day 80

    Almost all our long views are dominated by hulking Mt. Shasta. They cease towards the end of the day as we enter an area we’ve heard southbounders call “the horizontal forest”. Trees litter the ground like pick-up-sticks, creating a jungle gym for us to climb, swing, and crawl through. Many logging trucks are parked around,…

  • Day 79 (Pete)

    It is something I have never told anyone, except Dyl three days ago. I have gone through most of my life so far believing that I was imbued with some sort of super human qualities. Fortunately, I am not asinine enough to see past the arrogance of such a belief; and, consequently, I have kept…