Free My Journey to Freedom and Ultralight Backpacking by Carol Wellman

burying my food, and sleeping alone. It was 74 miles to Echo Lake Resort. The best remedy now was to just hike long and hard. The first two days I hiked with Becky, then she disappeared again. On the third day, I reached Echo Lake. That evening I called Rainmaker, and managed to get a ride to Berkeley Camp just a quarter mile down the road. For $10, I had a hot shower, access to a hot tub, full sized pool, and a bed in a shared tent cabin. I was done for now! I still had eleven days until Rainmaker arrived, and I intended to spend the time resting and relaxing.
     
    Intermission
  For nine days I stayed at the Berkeley campground, working out a deal with the manager to cook for an hour daily in exchange for room and board. I enjoyed the luxuries of flush toilets, a mattress, a pool, hot tub, excellent food, and human interaction. Frequently other hikers would come down to the camp for a night.
      Often, for a couple hours diversion, I hiked back to Echo Lake Resort, to meet friends passing through. I missed them, those hardy thru-hikers. We exchanged stories of bear encounters, food disasters, lost gear, family contacts. One woman’s family learned by reading someone's online journal that she was hiking solo now that her partner left the trail. Another guy, bemoaning the fact he didn’t have his wild bear photos, told us how he was conned by two bears into leaving his pack unattended trailside, while he scampered into the woods after spotting one of them feeding. Then, turning back to the trail, saw another bear happily trashing his pack. Thankfully, some friends showed up in the nick of time, and helped drive the thief away. Lesson learned, take the pack with you. I could not restrain the laughter as this hiker expressed his indignation of being conned by bears.
      We rummaged through each other's drop boxes, witnessed dog fights, irritated too-clean tourists, traded each other fuel for food, and griped about the resort. Although only a stone's throw from the lake, the store personnel said they could not give anyone clean drinking water because it was a drought year. There were privies, but no water to wash with. Yet the store sold fresh produce, a contradiction in standard health precautions.
       The pampered women at the campground surprised and sometimes annoyed me. One lady told me it was such a hardship for her, that this campground was as rugged as she could stand. I thought I had come to heaven! Several campers asked me what made me so different, so strong, and why I wasn’t afraid. Amazing. Somehow over these last two months I must have changed, dramatically. Perhaps a long hike is the best therapy for recovering one’s identity.
       I was anxious to get back on the trail; this soft campground life was boring. Having mailed my tent home from the resort, I had to wait. Finally, the time came. Early one morning I hitch hiked to South Lake Tahoe, caught a bus to Reno, and got a room at the fancy Sands Hotel. Rainmaker would fly in tomorrow evening, and the   anticipation was like that of Christmas.
     
     
    Reunited and on to Canada
    Chapter Four
Reunited And Onward to Canada
      I met Rainmaker at the Reno Airport around midnight on the twelfth of July.  Last time I saw him in April, he was clean-shaven. The guy who walked towards me now had a full, mostly gray beard. But the confident stride of that long, lean body, those wide shoulders and piercing blue eyes, were unmistakable. We returned to the motel by cab. The next day we rented a car for the one-way drive to Klamath Falls, Oregon, where we dropped it off. Our dear friends Brenda and Ralph met us there and took us to their home for the night. The next day they drove us to Crater Lake.
      Suddenly, Rainmaker and I were together again, on the Pacific Crest Trail, with just what we carried in our packs. Our routines were reestablished: sharing a tent, smiles, jokes, and conversation. Sharing, most of all, our love for the trail and for each other.