1.2 Miles of the Pacific Crest Trail- Part 2

On the return trip, I passed by the hikers from Mexico again. I stopped to chat with them for a few minutes before continuing back to my car. I also passed by the high schooler. If you’re curious about his progress up the rock face: he had climbed up it even farther and was now enjoying the view.

In total, I did a grand 1.2 miles of the PCT. Small time, considering its massively amazing length, but hey! I did it! I felt like I’d accomplished at least a little something. That’s good, right?

Right?

Combined with the warm weather and trail terrain (say that ten times fast), I was fairly hot and sweaty once I arrived back at the Summit Haus. Gross. Good thing I had bought a travel-sized, deliciously scented deodorant. I dabbed some on when I thought no one was looking.

Why not get something cold to eat and/or drink to cool me down? In addition to the deodorant?

Might as well. The AC in my car was on the fritz and I needed something to help the process along. So, cold something to consume it was.

Of course, I wasn’t exactly watching where I was going, so focused was I on the tables and chairs and café in front of me. I didn’t see the roped barrier until I’d run into and nearly tripped over it.

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Ye Old Railway Tunnel in Norden

Ah, Lake Tahoe! Quite possibly one of my favorite places in California. I used to go up there every so often as a kid. Happy memories. When my family and I stayed there, we’d camp out at a cabin in King’s Beach. It belonged to a relative. Just four rooms with a steep roof and large backyard, it was the perfect getaway for a few days. Close to the beach, too.

This time, I’d be staying with a relative right smack in the desert: a beauty in its own right. But before arriving there, I’d planned to a few things along the way. I mean, if I’m driving three or more hours (traffic dependent) from wine country to Reno, I may as well make a day of it.

Right?

Since it was a Sunday, I went to the early morning service for church and left almost immediately after that. After I stopped to get an iced tea, of course. And then: ROAD TRIP! Ah, the joys of flipping through radio stations you don’t often hear to see which one you like best.

Continue reading “Ye Old Railway Tunnel in Norden”