Divagating

July 5, 2020

I woke up in time to meet Bam-Bam. I didn’t ask about his trail name. He asked me to guess where he was from. He hadn’t said much to me. But what the hell? He asked for a guess. “Hmmm ahhh Scotland?”

“Czechoslovakia.”

But, of course. Please don’t ask me how to spell it.

He had caused me a great deal of consternation last night. After he arrived, I fell sound asleep. He woke me, not knowing I had fallen asleep, to tell me a deer was licking the ground near my tent. And then in the middle of the night, I heard the zipping and flapping of nylon. If you’re in Fairbanks they say that when you’re skijoring and the dogs hear the sound of nylon skidding on snow, it’s their signal to stop. This sound indicates that the dogs are dragging their fallen skier across the ice on her belly. And, pretty much, that’s the only reason they stop.

When you’re backpacking it means that someone is leaving or entering their tent or sleeping bag. So when it went quiet, I wondered did he leave? Then I remembered the warnings from my female friends, “it’s not the four legged creatures you need to worry about it the two legged.” Was he tip-toeing over to stab me bloody?

Really? Really Deborah? You’re going to worry about this? Maybe I’m naive, but if I turned a corner and saw a bear, I’d be frightened. If I saw a person, I’d probably be startled but that would be it. I trust people.

So looking over Bam-Bam, this diminutive, scruffy thru-hiker who is just trying his best to make it to Canada, I realize he has no time to kill me.

This will be an easy day. A simple downhill run into town. I was on trail by 7:00. I stopped at 10:00 for a short break. I knew I could make good time. I figured I only had about 10 or 12 miles to go. My downhill run was a series of steep switchbacks with lots of stumbly rocks to slow me. Terry had told me there was a shortcut into town. I came to a really nice footbridge over the Yuba River. I turned and was watching the river. I had seen a sign but it wasn’t clear that I was leaving the route toward a shortcut. I spotted a neat well dressed couple heading up from that suspected shortcut. They had no packs. This gave me a green light to try their trail. One would think I’d ask them? But I remained taciturn. If you haven’t talked all day, it’s a leap into uncharted territory. Well after about a mile I saw no hope and returned to the bridge. I must be close to town with the day hiking couple just walking about. I didn’t need no stink in’ shortcut.

Things were going fast until I made a left turn. Both the route straight ahead and to the right had sticks piled up in front of them. I thought the sticks indicated not to enter. Well I plowed along to the left getting closer to being helplessly mired in WTF “I’m lost.”

This could have been big trouble. I had no signal. There were no other people. And there were many unmarked trails branching out as though I was standing at the Arc de Triomphe not knowing which avenue was the Champ de Elyees. I divagated for 45 minutes until I recognized some garbage.

Lucky me. I was back on the trail. One more bridge over the Yuba and I was on the highway by 4:00. I walked into town fretting the whole way that it’d be shut tight. I anticipated no camping, no rooms, no food. On the front porch of the bar, a man seated in a chair said “Howdy.”

Them’s some pretty friendly worlds. “Do you think I can get a room here?

“I got one cabin left.”

“I’ll take it and two cold beers.”

Welcome to Sierra City. Where they have no Covid cases in the whole county. Cheers!