Chronicles of the Wayward Moot

WELCOME TO THE MOOT, oh world-wanderers and word-whisperers. After two years of Peace Corps. After 2,200 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail. What. Comes. Next?

4 Jun 2008


Cowboy camping after the day of road and trail walking, the temps got down to at least 26 degrees. My fellow campers and I awoke to find a thick layer of frost on everything. Here you can see where the shoulder strap of my pack lay over the back padding.


That day I realized I was still quite ill and couldn't make it a short 12 miles to the ranger station to get water. I did manage to climb up Mt. Pacifico seeking a campsite that might have water. When I arrived here at more than 7,000 feet there was no liquid water, so I set about melting some snow in a pot and trying to stay hydrated. Not easy when one is so sick he can barely stand up, let alone shoulder a pack and hike in the glaring sun. Here's a view from camp towards the northwest.


And roughly the same view as the lights of civilization below began to twinkle.


Sunrise the following morning.


check out the ridiculously vicious-looking spikes on these Jeffrey pine cones. I can't help wondering what the evolutionary advantage is to growing cones with these wooden swords on them. Can anyone make a suggestion?

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