Day 37
June 26, 2000

Between a Rock and a Hard Place: Gate to St. John Ridge, about 2 miles before Kelso V. Rd.

This sign forbids
off-road vehicles:
* No Trucks
* No Jeeps
* No Motorcycles
* No Buicks
So, folks, leave those
Buicks at home. This is
no place for them.

And just in case you decide to
take the old Buick out, this here
gate'l put a stop to your fun.

We awoke again at 4 am and started another long hiking day. Up, down, and around mountains all day long. Eventually, we came to the second spring. Robin Bird Spring, which the guidebook had promised had also been rehabilitated and was now a lovely spot. Not so, as the cows had once again pottied everywhere. We decided not to pump water, which was barely flowing, and continue on to the next source. While we sat resting, the greyhounds showed up also hunting for refreshment. Greyhound Scott said to us as he sipped on his remaining water, "It may be my imagination, but every time I take a sip, I taste cow." We assured him that he was not alone and that even the magical Crystal Light could not remove the taste. In fact, it actually made it worse. After that experience, I could no longer drink Strawberry-Banana Crystal Light. After examining the spring, they too decided to move on.

The next two creeks were dry, but finally, at a trail camp, a spring was running and the water was cold. We examined the spring source. It looked cow free, but after seeing the cows in action, it seems nothing truly is. We attempted to pump water, but the filter wasn't up to the job. We made a decision, filled our water bottles directly from the spring, clicked our bottles together and said, "Here's to possible giardia." It was cold and delicious. Once the deed was done, there was no turning back. We dumped out our filtered cow potty water, filled up with possible giardia water, and continued hiking.

We walked all day until nearly dark. (Gee, when don't we?) At dusk, we were in the unfortunate position of being out on a narrow ridge with no flat spot to lie on for miles. We finally found a big flat rock that was slightly tilted downward over a cliff. Resting on this rock, at the edge of the dropoff, was another large rock that could be used to brace your feet to keep from sliding off the cliff if you were lying on the big flat rock. This was our only choice and looked pretty good as it was now dark. We lay down and it became apparent that the slightly tilted rock was a lot more tilted then it had originally appeared. The only position you could lie in was flat on your back, ramrod straight with your feet pressed against the rock. If you tried to roll over or raise your knees, you slid down the rock face and ended up in a crumpled heap against the second rock and then had to crawl back up with your bedding in hand. Needless to say, I spent a lot of time sliding and crawling.

As is the case no matter the situation, Scott went right to sleep and was making small snoring noises. On one of my return trips from the bottom, I made so much noise shifting, pulling, and grunting, that he woke up.

I was not sorry.

I told him we needed to move to the trail and just squeeze together. (We both have to move because there is only one ground cloth) I may also have bellowed something at him as he woke, but I do not recollect what. [I recollect: she shouted, "You're more comfortable than me!"-Scott]

We moved, the trail was much roomier than it looked, and I slept great.

Back Outta here Next I'm so glad I'm not hiking with this Amy chick