August 2nd 2022, 6:00 am

One of those days filled with uncertainty and unexpected adventure. Last night not long after falling asleep under the stars a storm rolled in dropping rain on our unsheltered bodies. It took a few moments of hopeful waiting to see if the rain would pass before I got up to pitch my tent, only half awake. Then I lay that way for a good while longer. I suddenly had realized just how close to finishing I am. All along I had anticipated giving Oregon my most valiant effort and for Washington to be the place to mentally transition to what comes next. But now with the fire closures and the prospect of skipping nearly all of Oregon the time for transition feels sooner than expected.

In the morning much of the smoke had cleared replaced by gray clouds. I typically don't mind missing trail miles when required since I've long ago accepted the trail as merely a facilitator for adventure but I did really want to hike Oregon so I figured I'd give it another days effort. Texting Boujie of my plans I took off for an anticipated 30 mile day. With cool weather and cleaner air I made pretty good progress in the first few hours. However, sometime around early afternoon the smoke returned and with it discomfort in my lungs and head. I decided it best to take the next opportunity to hitch toward Bend, where the majority of those I know in the area have been skipping to. Still 17 miles from a main road that might be this evening or more likely tomorrow morning. But I will first try the less busy road just miles ahead. The road turned out to be less remote than I expected yet cars were not stopping for me. Eventually an already passed pickup truck made a u-turn 300 feet past where I stood. It turns out the couple inside had begun the PCT this year and gotten off at mile 500. Seeing my PCT badge in the rear view they felt responsible to turn around despite there being no obvious available seat. After moving a bit around and introducing me to their cautious dog Sam I hopped into the front bench alongside Mercedes and Coby. Initially hitching to the main highway toward Bend I decided to join them in their trek to Crater Lake so at least I could see by car something I've for so long worked towards. Within 45 minutes we arrived to the place I'd otherwise arrive in three days time time. That always kills me. A few moments of picture taking and we're back in the car. I ask them to drop me at Chemult which is as close to Bend as they can get me before turning off toward Eugene.

Being a drive through town along a direct road north I suspect a hitch shouldn't be too much trouble. I'm wrong. Hikers who had arrived before me testify to the difficulty in getting cars to stop. I wait a bit and then head to the gas station to try another tactic. But nobody there seems friendly enough to ask so I instead just stand aside and observe. Suddenly I'm standing between the store clerk and a man named Carl who she's shouting at if he'd like free food. He apparently says no because she then turns to me and asks the same. Unlike Carl I answer yes please and follow her inside to accept the handfuls of somewhat appetizing food from the warmer. I return with these goodies to the other hikers, offering up some. Still no success with the drivers. I go back to the convenience store for a soda. That too the clerk gifts to me. I must be looking more disheveled than usual. As I'm leaving the store I notice the two hikers talking with a driver. I hustle over to see about sliding in but learn he's not heading to Bend but up toward trail where these guys are going. Now I'm left alone to hitch with the sun going down. Not wanting to be in town after dark and knowing the Amtrak leaves to Bend at noon tomorrow I begin making my way to a campground outside of town. With my back turned toward oncoming traffic I leave my thumb out just in case. It works. A few minutes of walking and a car pulls over to ask if I'm hiking the PCT. I hop in and immediately know this hour long ride is going to be a good one. Bec is a triple crowner, having completed all three major big trails in the USA, turned adventure guide, leading expeditions in the area. Also after only skiing for 4 years has dropped in on 22 of the biggest peaks in Washington. We spend the ride shifting between deep conversation, present silence, and boppin tunes. By the time I exit the car it feels like I'm saying goodbye to an old friend.

These side adventures paired with a yes man attitude have led to some of my most important experiences "on trail". I've been wondering how to implement some of this magic into a more every day environment. I want this trip to live on but fear I will struggle to balance the two worlds. How to go from living with 100% intention to a world where nearly everything can be taken for granted. Here water is strictly a source of life at a fundamental level, but elsewhere water lives in a faucet and front lawn sprinkler. Electricity flows everywhere powering a world of tools reaching far beyond function, empowering unprecedented control over the natural world. Aesthetics overpower functionality. It's as if I've seen the alternative to a highly manufactured world. In many regards I just have more appreciation for our ingenuity but in other ways a strong feeling of sadness for what we left behind. And oddly while we've simplified our processes we seem to have complicated our psyche. This trail has taught me that to let go is really to take control. But I'm not sure I'll continue to remember what that means. Will I be able to implement this level of intentionality and presence in my other ventures? Only time will tell but I'll certainly make an effort.

Bec dropped me off at the house Bougie had rented with some others. Still on a high from the days activities I shared the stories of how I got there with them over some ice cream. By the time we were all caught up and ready for bed some hours had gone by. After a much needed shower I climbed into bed well beyond exhausted.