The subject of many a hiker's
fantasy...that's right...Kennedy
Meadows. (with Olancha Peak
barely visable in the far far
distance. It's getting closer!
The Kennedy Meadows Store.
The folks here took great care
of us-with table-service ice
water on the shady porch and
help mailing packages.
Rub-a-dub-dub. It's
that time once again.
This was a great
shower!
First bridge over the Kern River.
Amy is absolutely fascinated by
the sight of running water.
Before I continue, I need to backtrack a couple days to our last town stop. While in town, I had downloaded our Pocketmail messages and was sitting, reading them during dinner. I came across one from Ken, a friend from work. Ken wrote that he had read the journals to his wife, Mona, who had announced, "I would have pushed that Scott over a cliff the first day." The email didn't specify why exactly-Scott had been pretty good that first day-it may have been due to tent issues, but it could have been just about anything. All we know is that something about poor Scott rubbed her the wrong way.
[Possibly it's the less than favorable way I have been portrayed in these journals -Scott]
(She probably had comments about me too, but Ken and I work together and the wise man shuts up) Anyway, I related this to Scott, who appeared completely unperturbed and merely grunted and went on eating. That was the last we spoke of that issue.
Well, this morning, nearly 3 days later, while sitting in the tent packing up, Scott suddenly burst out in a mimicking voice, "I would have pushed that Scott over a cliff the first day." (I guess he didn't like that comment after all.) A little later, as we were taking down the tent, I heard him say one word in a low voice as he was bent down pulling out tent stakes-- "Mona"-- in the same tone that Jerry Seinfeld says "Newman." I believe Scott would like to pick a fight with Mona when he returns to town.
Watch out Mona.
We finally pulled into Kennedy Meadows around 11 a.m. (Can you pull in when you're hiking? I'm not sure) Kennedy Meadows is a remote community in the southern Sierras. They have no electricity and up until last year, no phone service. The locals on the store's porch summed up their thoughts concerning these limitations: "All you have to worry about is paying the propane bill-keeps the government out of your business." (Apparently, watching Martha Stewart make little animals out of marzipan isn't enticing enough to allow Big Brother a look at your lifestyle.)
The hub of much activity, especially on this July Fourth weekend, the store has a wide shady porch where you can sit and relax and sort through your food box. They also had a good selection of hiker-appropriate foods. At least 3 friendly hound dogs trot around the store while you make your selections. They also show a free movie every Saturday night in an outdoor amphitheater (using a generator)
The highlight for me was the wonderful outdoor shower that costs $2, but you get a towel, shampoo, and soap thrown in and can spend as long as you want washing off the trail grime. The best part about it is that your towel, hanging on its hook outside the stall, gets warmed by the sun while you shower. I regret to report that once again, Scott decided against a shower, saying, "What's the use, I'll just get dirty and smelly again." (Yes, he did actually say that.) However, there is a happy ending this time because when I emerged from the shower stall a vision of cleanliness, he was so overcome that he caved in and took a shower too.
We stayed a few hours, soaking up the kindness of these friendly folks and then hiked first up alongside the Kern River among fishermen and then up into the mountains and camped.