Immediately upon leaving Tinkle and Daisy Dukes, I hopped on a bus to go to an outfitter’s shop. Looking through my cash, my lowest bill was a $5, so the driver yelled back, “Anyone got change for a five?” An older man with an “I ♥ Kush” shirt kindly pulled out a big wad of cash and helped me out. At the outdoor store, I got some new socks for my new solo adventure and got their help in fixing my tent’s zipper, which had been badly sticking for a while. These errands finished, I went back to the hotel to get picked up by my ride. Mark was a firefighter on leave because he’d fallen off a fire engine and broken his neck. Ouch. We had a two hour long car ride that would take me to Crater Lake, 100 miles further down the PCT. We talked about many things; nursing, the huge fires, and his abalone shell business. He gave me one of the shells when he dropped me off and I carried it for the rest of the hike.

At the Crater Lake visitor’s center, I sat for a bit, charged my electronics, and ate some of my resupply goodies, namely, an expensive Norwegian cheese and some homemade cookies a friend had sent me. Once I finally set off, the trail was rather disappointing. The smoke was so thick that I didn’t see much of Crater Lake at all. The trail was sandy and the tentsite was peopled only by swarms of mosquitoes. I tried the trick to run away from my tent to lure the bugs to one area and then run back and zip up my tent quickly, but I tripped on a rock and fell over. I was glad no one was around for that except for the mosquitoes, who buzzed mockingly at me.

I woke up naturally with the sunrise and soon came upon a water cache. Oregon was surprisingly dry, with long water carries. Luckily, the trail was pretty flat for the most part, with only gradual climbs. So gradual that I reached the highest point of the PCT in Oregon without realizing it. I sat for lunch after 17 miles and ate another of the delicious homemade cookies. I wasn’t seeing many hikers going northbound, but I was starting to hit the southbound bubble. As one hiker passed me, he asked, “Are you a trail angel?” This was weird, because my general griminess should have excluded that possibility. I said no and he replied, “Oh, just a regular angel, then.” Insert eye roll here.

The next water source was 1.5 miles off of trail, always an annoying detour. At the lake, there was a group of around ten NOBOers! It was cool to see them, but I hadn’t walked enough that day, so I had to leave them behind. It was kind of a bummer to do that, feeling like I was missing out on some experiences. However, the whole reason I’d left my friends was to get miles in, so I stuck to my goal of 30 miles and made 30.1 miles of trail on my first full solo day (this didn’t count my 1.5 mile detour to water). My feet were feeling it, and the now four liter water carry that was necessary. As I succinctly put it in my journal, “WTF, Oregon?”

I wish I could say that the next day was better, but I’d had a rough night; ants had gotten into my tent and had been crawling all over me and my tentsite was at an angle so I kept slipping off my sleeping pad. Continuing the bummer saga, I got some troubling news from home and was worrying about it for a few days. On the brighter side, I ran across a great cache, including toilet paper, duct tape, and ibuprofen, which a trail angel named Devilfish kept up. Thanks Devilfish! I also got to get clean(er) by taking a swim in a lake and rinsing my socks. While there, I saw people with a three horses and a great dane!

The day finished on a higher note, as I made it to Shelter Cove, a campground with a store and a RESTAURANT! I’d had to literally run the last couple of miles to make it in time before closing. I ate a burger and chatted with the other hikers, who naturally congregated at the source of food. I met River and Mouse, and re-met Cheetah, who I hadn’t seen since the desert section. I got my resupply, did my business in an actual toilet (always a treat), and headed off on trail for the last part of the day. I made it a small ways away from Shelter Cove and set down for the night, to start it all again the next day.