Tenting at the first flat spot after Barlow Pass (PCT mi 2103.7), walked 30.1 miles today
Woke up at 6:30 and the very first sight my eyes beheld, aside from the time on my watch, was Spit Walker's bare ass bent over 10 yards from my tent as he changed into his hiking shorts for the day. A portentous start. Walked the first 9 miles without even knowing it, catching up to and passing Banana Ripper and Songbird in the process, then took a snack break at a horse camp where I was told, in not the friendliest tone, that this was supposed to be a camp for horses and their owners only. I took it upon myself to shit in one of their outhouses and then moved on. The next 10 miles after that also flew by ... If I thought yesterday's trail was easy, then today's was playing with blocks in preschool or something. Flat and/or downhill at about a 1% grade for 12 miles at least. Somewhere in there was the side trail to Little Crater Lake, which I decided quite quickly wasn't real and someone was just playing a joke on me. They must dump a gallon of blue food coloring in it every few days and have a generator-powered fridge somewhere at the bottom to keep it 34 degrees, then dream up a phony geological explanation complete with mumbo-jumbo like "faults" and "Artesian springs."
The trail snapped out of its slumber after 18 miles or so and took us up on a very toothless climb toward the euphonious Wapinitia Pass and U.S. 26, which is one of the best U.S. highways in my opinion. Given its proximity to Portland and relatively high traffic volume, I was hoping for trail magic and for once I was not disappointed. Across the road, two employees of Next Adventure, an outdoor retailer in Portland, were cooking up burgers and handing out Gatorade, PBRs, and sundry snacks to the PCTers passing through. Had two beers and two burgers myself as most of the day's crowd, including Berkeley Bill (last spotted at Ziggy and Bear's house, mile 210, nearly 2000 miles ago), trickled in. The next 4.5 miles to Barlow Pass I walked with Sherpa C and later Mr. Stumblin' Beef, then after that road we started to climb a bit more seriously and midst the gloaming, which now arrives between 8 and 8:15, I descried a lone flat tentsite after a mile. This puts me 4 miles from Timberline Lodge and the exhibition of unbridled gluttony that I'm surely going to witness and partake in tomorrow. We talked to some southbounders a few hours ago and Stumblin' Beef stated his desire to eat until he vomits, then one of the sobos mentioned that she herself had vomited from the lunch buffet today. So this is going to get stupid, like Mac Dre. G'night.