Ticket to Ride

First: From the bottom of my heart I want to thank the people who have offered me funds or suggested ways to get funds. Perhaps I will take dontations for the next trip (that I've already begun plotting, new blog name Vern Rides a Bike, and involving a different continent). But I feel like my low budget lesson to be learned is one that involves not worrying, but having a bit of faith. I need to see where I end up with what I have and what happens because of it. Sometimes amazing things happen when you need just one small thing (the next meal, a companion to walk with, a head net, a place to sleep) and it is provided. Don't worry, I'm not going to let myself end up in a gutter or anything.

DAY 94 - Part 2 - Everything a Girl Could Ask For

So I had no idea where I was going to stay in Ashland, OR (hopefully I wouldn't have to illegally camp in a city park), but I had gone ahead and bought my bus ticket from Sacramento to Ashland.

I was going to meet Lorrie's caravan (Lorrie was one of the cyclists I just "happened" to run into the day before) on the side of the road around 4pm, go to her house, then get a ride to Sacramento from the Donner Pass area. I would be dropped off at the Greyhound bus station, where I would sleep, and take the 7am bus out of town, headed north.

There had been a late night bus option, but I had decided if I was going to skip 700 miles of trail I needed to AT LEAST see it fly by the window, and I wouldn't have been able to do that in the dark.

I was actually pretty excited for the busride...I had never been on a Greyhound bus, but I figured the whole event would be noteworthy. I mean, every greyhound station I had ever passed by looked totally dingy and sketchy characters would always be fliting about the outskirts like moths attracted to a light. And we all know that wherever there are sketchy characters, there are crazy stories. Needless to say I was psyched!

Trail angel Bill had taken Justin, Carrie's boyfriend, to the Reno airport. So I hung out with RJ, a lady from North Dakota and a DJ for the Internet radio station "Ganja Radio". She had planned on seriously hiking the PCT but after she went a few miles through the snow near I-80, she realized that this year of heavy snow was not the year that she should hike this trail. So she was sticking around until her flight home.

I packed my few belongings and kept checking my email for a notice from couchsurfing.org.

Bill got back and we got in the car so he could drop me off by the stop sign near the lake and highway 40. I waited for my ride.

I made use of my time and good reception and checked my email again, and again.

Finally, desprate me had gotten a couchsurfing reply!!! Nancy, the host, didn't have a couch exactly, but a big backyard to camp in, and was openly welcoming me into her home! But my ride arrived, and so I would have to call her in the morning.

Now this is the part of the story where I learned to stop worrying and start knowing...it was going to be okay. Maybe I had freaked out about my $$$ situation the night before, but I realized, if I needed something and it wasn't there, then I would buy it...but perhaps things were going to be provided, in ways I would never have expected. Maybe I NEEDED these low funds, to humble me and to teach me a lesson or two. I had needed a place to stay in Ashland, now here it was, and I had a good feeling, maybe this was going to be more than just a backyard in which to lay my head.

There I had been stuffing my face with leftover pancakes from breakfast all day long, thinking it to be one of my last calorie-stock-up chances for the rest of the trail, because I had been worried. But then we drove to Lorrie's house, unloaded the car, and proceeded to go inside where the entire group joined forces in the kitchen to prepare a most wonderful meal, full of organic vegetables. And we ate together, a happy group of people sitting at a table outside, in the soft shade of golden hour. I had not expected any food or anything, but it was provided when I least expected it.

After dinner I got in Carol and Anthony's car and began the drive towards the west coast with them amist conversation and listening to The Austin Lounge Lizards.

As usual, circumstance had brought me in contact with two lovely people, whom I got hugs from at the end of the night as they dropped me off at the greyhound station. All these people who were helping me, giving me rides, feeding me, encouraging me...when was I going to run out of karma points?

So I waved goodbye and was instantly satisfied with the outward shadiness of this greyhound joint. Two of the letters in the Greyhound sign where out. I walked in and went to the counter where a disgruntled employee shoved me my tickets. I went to go charge my cell phone at the charging station, but guess what, none of the outlets were working...just one dingy one off to the side on a wall (OMG, was that an archaic 15amp outlet?) oh and there was one socket behind the ATM machine as well...

Needless to say these outlets attracted a lot of people and I got to overhear some catty girls bad-mouthing and hating on Latisha, whoever she was (apparently a skank). But their bus came, they moved on, and a new crowd moved in. Soon Dan was sitting next to me, with a fancy watch around his Sicilian wrist and blinged rings on his fingers, he had missed his flight out of town that day (cause he had partied too hard on the 4th). He showed me all the pictures on his point and shoot camera, some of them were quite good, but I wasn't so sure that he should quit his welding job too quickly to become a photographer. He thought he could make way bigger bucks as a photographer (but when he told me how much he made per hour as a welder I realized he was probably doing better than me and all my photo friends). He was generous though and shared his sour gummies with me and gave me a medical wrap, "You might need this on your hike," he said.



(in the greyhound station)

Soon a lady who was just short of downright mean and neglectful towards her one-year-old was in my zone. The kid was so cute and just wanted his mommy, but she wouldn't pick him up, she let him wander off, and ordered him around. When their bus was leaving and the mom grabbed his little toy cars (which she had showed me, her son had chewed the wheels off of the one made in 1971) he began crying because he didn't know what was going on, and it was near one in the morning. The way he cried was so raw and real, I looked at him and realized, those were the same kind of tears I had been dropping all along the trail.

It got late, and later, and soon Dan was asleep, a peculiar middle aged and bespectacled man had vanished, and a band player was somewhere outside on his cell. So I upgraded from the spot on the floor next to the outlet, to the hard and uncomfortable benches.

Then Harry came and sat next to me. When he heard of my adventure he got so excited and began telling me of his one experience in the wilderness. When he was 16 he went to this camp for a week, and he got to go white water rafting. He gave me a play by play of the ride down the river. I was so tired, I had been woken up by the sound of a coffee grinder at 5:50am that morning, and now it was nearly 3am. So as Harry talked I tried desperately to keep my eyes from fluttering and rolling around in exhaustion. He was so into his story, this one week of his life had seemed to deeply impact him, and I wanted to offer words of support. I was realizing, within waves of tired delusions, how important exploring the world was, how impactful stepping outside the comfort zone could be...for everyone. It didn't matter if it was a 5 month hike, a week at a camp, a last minute road-trip for a day, or trying a new food!

But as Harry finished his story I had to tell him I was so tired.

I put my backpack on the floor, used it as a pillow and took a little nap.


DAY 95 - The Drive-Thru

I woke up with that feeling that someone was watching. Dan was still slumped over, another guy was still sleeping on his pack. I looked at the locked door...there was a guy, was he trying to get in? Why didn't he just walk around the building to the unlocked doors? I grogily got up and shuffled to the door. I opened it a crack but the man waved his hands as if to say "no."

"Sorry, I was just lookin' at you lying there." he said!

WHAAAAAT?!?!? Creeeeeepy!

I think I just said, "Um," as my eyes popped wide open, but I wanted to scream "ewwwwww!" and slam the door in his face. I mean I appreciate truthfulness, but I also appreciate using a bit of disgretion. As I shut the door a security guard came up and kindly told me, "You don't have to open the door for anyone, just ignore them, some people just try to get in and steal your pack!"

I wanted to assure him that I was not going to EVER open that door again! I wasn't really worried about anyone running away with my stinky and heavy pack, but I did not want to deal with any more creeps. I couldn't go back to sleep, so I moved back up to the uncomfortable benches, flipped through a local magazine and read every article. Dan woke up and sat next to me, in a similar sort of fatigued daze that I was in.

Soon my bus was leaving, so I said goodbye to Dan and got in the line for my bus. I waved goodbye to Harry as I passed by his line and boarded my bus.

I boarded, sat in a seat next to the window, and prayed that someone aimiable would sit next to me, I was tired and was running out of patience for crazies.



(ghetto air conditioning opening stuffed with cardboard)

A young lady who had been in line behind me looked in my direction with a glimer of hope in her eyes...we both understood we would be possibly saving each other by sitting side by side. She was only going up to Chico for work, her van had broken down the night before and she got a bus ticket at the last minute. She was only 21 but she had lived in many places, lived out of her van with her dog for awhile, she was just trying to get herself out of a hole, trying to break even, then save a little money to travel with. She was one of those people who was already becoming a little weary from all the crap life had thrown her. But she was smart, firey, and naturally beautiful. I wanted her to make it to a place where she could journey across America, in her van with her dog. I wanted her to make it where she dreamed of heading so bad.

The bus hobbled along the small highway 90, past vineyards, fruitstands, and lovely flat expanses of land decorated by mountain ranges in the distance...somewhere in there in the way way distance were my friends, climbing every mountain, hustlin' every day.

We arrived in Chico, a sweeeeet looking little town, and my seat partner got off, after I wished her much sales luck, and I waited to see who my next seat-mate would be.

A teenage girl with cute chuck taylor's and a cell that she was constantly texting on set her bag right next to mine, which was just as big and hard to fit under one's feet as mine.

We didn't talk much but neither of us felt rude as we both sat, phone in hand for the next several hundred miles. We both got candy and drinks at the gas station stop in a little CA town, and we both just watched as half the bus exited at every stop for a quick little huff n' puff on the old cigarette.



(the bus, half of the passengers are on the other side taking advantage of smoke break time)




(the near vacant bus during a stop)

We made it to Redding where we had a 20 minute break and were given a new driver. Now was my chance to call Nancy back and say, "yes, hi, um I'm going to be in Ashland in a few hours! Where can I park my tent?"

Well, I asked in a nicer way and I was genuinely thrilled that I was going to get to stay with a local family, who would offer more insight and friendship than any clerk behind a motel 6 desk. I would head to her house upon my arrival in Ashland.



(the greyhound sign I stared at while waiting for the reloading of the bus)




(the buses)

I was so happy for the wait, I was soaking up the hot sun outside for as long as possible. It was freezing on the bus but I didn't want to try to unwedge my backpack from it's position on the floor, unpack it to get to my down jacket, and then repack it. Plus in close quarters my jacket probably smelled sinister, and I didn't want to totally gross the girl out.

We finally loaded again and got going. We passed by Mt. Shasta, covered in snow and looming up out of the ground standing alone, and we passed by more and more hills, and then the Oregon border came along, and then I started to fall asleep.

Suddenly it was "Welcome to Medford!" and I was at the bus station looking around and saying to myself, "This doesn't look like Oregon!" but how was I supposed to know what it looked like, and why had I assumed it would magically transform into lakes and waterfalls, and ferns right at the border. And why had I expected it to be cool? It was HOT! So I went inside and waited for my bus to Ashland.

I saw some hiker looking guys but thought to myself "there are trails all over Oregon." But then they borded the same bus to Ashland and I spotted a Erik the Black's PCT Atlas strapped to one of their packs. As soon as we all sat down I said, "So! You're hiking the PCT?!"

"We had been wondering the same thing about you!" they replied.

Both boys looked young and vibrant (not trail worn, dirty, and hagard like me). They were going to try to hike all of Oregon, and when I asked them what made them want to hike the trail one of them said, "It was this or a boring internship."

Fair enough.

I probably bothered them with all my nosey questions, but I hadn't talked to another hiker in 24 hours, what else was I to do?

Soon we were in Ashland and I wished the young men well, but we parted and I headed to Nancy's.

I arrived right before she went to take a jog, for she was training for the San Fran marathon!

I was introduced to Sky, the dog, the backyard, and the kitchen (with a faucet that had cool running water). Nancy left for her run and I drank cold water at the kitchen table. I looked at the pictures of her kids on the fridge, I petted Sky, and look through the book titles on the bookshelf. It was good to be in a home.

Soon Jens, Nancy's husband, came home and I found out he was a furniture maker, though I had sorta been tipped off by the bookshelf (a lot of furniture books).

Nancy got back and before I knew it I was in the truck with Jens, Nancy, and Sky, and we were headed to the lake to let sky swim and workout her sore/injured shoulder.



(at the lake)

Then Nancy was ordering pizza, we were making a salad, eating on the back patio, hopping in the car and going to Yogurt Hut, and eating the frozen yogurt. I got an after dark mobile/walking tour of Ashland, and finally at the end of the night Nancy handed me a real pillow to lay my head on, which was one of the real world luxuries I missed most.

I laid down to rest, I was excited for the next day, I was going to the Apple Cellar bakery to try another cinnamon roll. I had told Jens and Nancy about my quest and they had suggested this place. Furthermore I had gone on to tell Jens that one of my favorite pastries in the world was from his neck of the woods (the German Mandlehorn). But I told Jens of my plight, that I had looked for them in every bakery I had been in in the US, but only one single Jewish bakery/deli in LA had them.

"Oh, we have those here!" jens said.

"What?!" I was besides myself, I now had three choices of places to live in the future, LA, Germany, and Ashland...or I could just learn how to make my own.


DAY 96 - Freedom, Food, and Football

After showering Nancy let me borrow her bicycle so I could ride into town and begin the errands I was there to take care of in the first place.

Pedals wheeling, wind rushing, hair blowing. It was freeing to be on a bicycle, the ground rushing underneath me at more than 3mph.

Post office. Check!

Apple cellar bakery. Check!

The cinnamon rolls were getting harder and harder to judge side by side. The apple cinnamon roll at this bakery was no greasy spoon, buttery, heart attack of a delight, but it was yeasty, fresh, and airy with a delicious and moist topping, and apples and cinnamon baked into it.




(The roll, now in 2nd place!)




(oh and the Madlehorn, yum-mers!)

Ashland food co-op. Check!

Getting back to the house in time for the only World cup game I would get to see, Germany vs. Spain, and there was a whole group of Germans watching with Jens. Half-check. I didn't get there at the beginning, but while the score was still 0-0.




(I didn't take a picture of the group of onlookers, but I did take a picture of this bag of Germany colored M&Ms)

After Germany lost and we cleaned up I began to separate my food into piles for each of the four Oregon resupplies I was creating.

I borrowed the bike again and went to grocery store number two, to find good deals on snacky type stuff.

I went back home and started putting all my packages together. While Nancy was working (she works out of the house designing float art pens...and she's done some really clever ones!) I had described to Nancy the woes of trying to find a good hiking dress and then her daughter Maya (20) came home from work.

"Maya listen to this..." Nancy said in regards to my lamenting about lack of options for cute hiker friendly attire.

Maya, who houses a sewing machine in her bedroom (which one can frequently hear whirring away), who dresses fabulously, and who is also a fan of the outdoors said, "I KNOW! I have just the catalogue for you to look at though!"

I believe it was Athletica, I'll have to look it up when I get home, but I was floored, real dresses with great fabrics, colors to choose from, and some even had built in bras!

After going to the lake...



...we fixed a dinner of leftovers, cheese, cold cuts, and salad. We all ate under the twinkling lights...



...and enjoyed the night air...



"Do you want to go to yogurt hut again? I know two nights in a row..." they asked me.

Did I want frozen yogurt...of course.

So Jens, Maya, Nancy, and I hopped in the car and made our way to the store full of stainless steel pumps with multiple flavors of soft serve fro-yo pouring out.

Then it was back to the house for clean-up and Gilmore Girls on DVD. Sure the show is a cheesy delight, but it was the perfect ending to a great day, I left like I was at home, complete, and wonderful.

DAY 97 - Birth Control

UPS mail off: check.

Blogging: check.

Another bakery: check...but scones, no cinnamon roll :-(

Decide to send the trail runners and crampons home: check! (Safia sent me back my chacos)

To the PO with Nancy: check.

Nancy took me to the PO to mail off a resupply package because she herself had to go to the PO to mail FAFSA forms into her son's college, and it was a last minute rush she was in because of some wrong information handed down by the college people.

Some people think twice before they pro-create because of the responsibilities involved in becoming a parent, some think of money...there are a lot of reason to have or not have children. But seeing Nancy having to deal with FAFSA forms made me realize, at the thought of potentially having to fill those out one day if I were to have kids, that a FAFSA form is really the greatest form of birth control.

After PO drop off Nancy and I went to yogurt hut...addiction.

We went to the grocery store for dinner supplies and I began making hommade salsa for the burritos back at the house.

As I was about to get started on the salad Nancy came running in..."I know what you should do!"

"What?"

"Since it's your last night you should take the car, drive downtown, watch the show on the green, and then we'll meet there after my jog and you can drive me home!"

See Ashland has an almost year-round Shakespeare festival, and every evening there is a free little pre-show with various acts, out on the green.

So I drove (my first time in over 3 months) and I parked, and I walked to the green...but tonight's little show had actually moved inside, and the building was already full. So I people watched...



Nancy and I met back up, we finished preparing dinner and then Maya, Nancy, Molly (Maya's friend), and I sat down to dinner in front of Gilmore Girls, accompanied by Molly's fabulously sarcastic remarks.

After Molly left and Nancy went to bed Maya and I ended up having girl talk. I had talked to girls in the last couple months, but face to face good ol' fashioned girl talk had been sparse if none. And it was just what I needed to send me off again into the wild blue yonder.

DAY 98 - The Rim

I packed my belongings, peddled to Apple cellar bakery for one last round of pastries, and went back to the house and waited for Jens.

Jens had planned on taking one of the students in town from Germany to Crater Lake, so he decided to do it just when I needed a ride there. I wouldn't have to hitch a number of miles on rural highways this way.

I said goodbye to Nancy and Maya 2/3 of my 3-day-family. "You know you can stay longer if you want," Nancy had told me. But I told her I had to get on the trail, I couldn't wait any longer, otherwise I might not ever get back on. But I was sad to leave the best people I could possibly have stayed with in Ashland!

We got into the truck, Jens played old cowboy country music (the good stuff) which set the mood for driving through tree studded roads. Every time we passed by an eatery looking place Jens would say, "Oh, I heard they have reallllly good cinnamon rolls there!" Did Jens ever want to make it to Crater Lake?

We stopped by a gorge and lava tube area...




...and continued towards Crater Lake. That was when I started seeing patches of snow.......arg, well I would just have to deal with it, in my sandals.

We went up to the rim village, got out, and began walking around, having a look...




...the ominous skies made the lake look quite impressive, but as Jens dropped me off for good it started drizzling, like usual. So I did what any iPhone using power outlet lover would do. I decided to wait for the drizzles to slow down in the cafe/gift shop. I went upstairs, sat by myself in an empty room, and found an outlet.

Soon Chef Koma found me sitting up there. He heard about my trip and told me about Xanterra the company he works for, who helps run many national parks, both seasonally and year round (hey hey migratory friends, he said there are lots of job openings). And again I was provided with a free meal...



...I wasn't going to starve getting to Canada afterall.

The sun broke through the clouds, my phone was charged, and Chef Koma was off. So I put my backpack on and began following the trail that graced the rim of the lake.




(A view)

But as I walked further away from the rim village the Mosquitos kept landing on me more and more frequently. I tried walking faster. They kept landing on me and stealing my blood. I was slapping and walking. Finally I stopped, put my headnet and rainjacket on and kept hiking until I found a perfect place to camp (probably illegal, I was right on the rim).

I laid down in my little tent, listening to the wind blow. Tomorrow would hold snow, mosquitos, and perhaps lonliness. I supposed I would battle them all for the next 81 miles before my next resupply box, but I was excited to see what Oregon had in store for me.


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