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?


Once in Quincy after the 30 mile roadwalk, I did some shopping, destroyed some Taco Bell food, and learned that there was to be live music in town that very night. Being from New Orleans, I do appreciate some good live music and so I set about finding a place to stay in case I decided to hang around for the 9:30 show. Couchsurfing, as usual, came though better than expected. I met K. pictured here and before I knew it I was showered, had clothes in the laundry, and several margaritas in my belly. We had several things in common and got along quite well talking about photography and travel and yadda yadda. Eventually we headed out to the great restaurant in town called Pangea and sat down to once again chow down (salmon salad pictured below) and suck down some potent brews with her friends in town. We closed the place down and instead of tossing and turning on the ground in her backyard which would have been fine with me, she offered me her soft plush bed and took one of her out of town roommate's rooms for the night.

The next day, my feet were still pulsing and pounding from the roadwalking and it was just a lazy old Saturday, so we all, after awakening from various caves of chuchaqui, piled into a Subaru and hit up a local creek and its swimming hole. Ice cream, sandwiches, and sun were the order of the day. I figgered that I really OUGHT to take a zero here because these folks were so fun and welcoming.

Sadly, I did manage to pry myself out of Quincy at 5:30am the next day and had a 36 mile road walk ahead of me. That was yesterday and my feet are once again toasted. But hey, I saw this pretty thistle, so give a whistle and always look on the bright side of life...

Destination: Lake Almanor. Distance: Too freaking far. But I got there eventually.


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