August 29th, 2015: Day 8
I wake to the first sound of rain, since, it seems, like the beginning of summer. The chill comes like a switch, that is quickly flicked off again. Autumn is like that awkward new friend that doesn't know when you wake up or not. When the dark grays become dark reds through the other side of my tent it is already warm enough to have just one layer.
Today is a day that is uphill, with full packs. I am burning more energy with muscle growth. It isn't being sapped from the sun. While the energy of the sun is doing it's work to evaporate the irrigation canals. Slow moving water, filled with ag run off but so many potatoes and alfalfa.
The rain this morning was beautiful with the smell of petrichor. The rainfall in this area is similar to the Klamath Basin, but here they might get a little more rain.
When we reach Deb's property she tells us her story. She has the first story I've heard with my own ears about the pipeline. Barry and Em already walking ahead of us.
Her words filled me with fire, as they always do. I renew my vigor of whatever weaknesses I feel and fill out the day with practicing identification of her favorite tree.
Our campsite is in the Pederson Snowpark, just across the street from the Pacific Crest Trail. You know, the one from that movie? There has been a lot of traffic on the PCT this year because of it.
I listen to music as I write and the chill is refreshing and subtle. The sun lights the forest with lines of gold as it sets. Pablo cooks dinner, Ratatioulle, the spiced chunks of eggplant are meaty and I massage my aching muscles. The moon is bright enough to see by, up here, at night.