August 3, 2013
9 miles
mile 1736

A genuine sleep in. And then an hour wait to gaze upon morning glories and take breakfast at the restaurant, Morning Glory. Worth the wait for the huge and unusual breakfast. The waiter warned me of my over order. I smiled. He back. Both confident in our positions. I chewed on the last sprig of parsley, my smile retained as well as consumption victory in the bag.

Moved back to downtown. Orbit to hunt for new shoes. Myself to the Christian Science reading room to write. The woman monitoring the empty room said, “Well, you’re only supposed to study religious material here.” My reply “My writing is somewhat spiritual.” “Why not?”, she sparkled.

Afternoon arrived and we took in the matinee, “The Way Back,” which was a small, excellent coming-of-age story. Check it out if the opportunity presents. The opening scene magic. Afterwards had ice cream for lunch where we ran into Sundog and Giggles. They filled us in on upcoming fires in Oregon and their possible effects on the trail. I’ve always loved the coming attraction part. Then Slack strolled in with his buddy Alex, our taxi ride back to the trailhead. The sound of Velcro being pulled apart was heard as we were torn away from the ice cream parlor. It was 4 PM.

Waved goodbye to the fine town and even remembered to grab my water bottle from Alex’s car, though Slack did not. While he hunted the shoulders of the road for a new one, Orbit and I set off. To pass the time, we conducted a postmortem of the film. Then I took a break and strolled the last miles into camp in silence. Upon arrival I listened to the news of the day. Orbit had seen a bear and Slack had shared the path with a squirrel for a quarter of a mile. I watched the video. The squirrel would run along about 10 feet ahead. Then stop and beckon Slack to pick up the pace. It was adorable.

Perhaps I solved the mystery of the exploding bluejays. Today I passed Pilot Rock where a sign informed that Peregrine Falcons nest there. Mated for life and always returning to the same nest for egg laying. Diving at 200 mile an hour, prey tends to explode upon contact with a falcon. As I observed a pigeon do once in Washington D.C. when a falcon decided it was lunchtime. Riddle explained?

Couscous and then to the reading mat. Studs Terkel’s, “The Good War,” an oral history of World War II, is the selection on tap in my personal reading room. In it he interviews a generation called on to do things that mine was not. I fell asleep jealous and relieved at the same time.

Steve Halteman
On the Pacific Crest Trail
Hiking the PCT for the Kids of Escuela Verde

If you’d like to help out and donate, please click here!