This hike has taken a strange twist at mile 456 of the Pacific Crest Trail, but I think it's all for the good. It seems an unusual weather pattern has set up in the southwestern United States, and much of the region is experiencing high temperatures well above normal. As difficult as it's been to make forward progress with temperatures in the 90's, I was dreading any hiking when it's 110F. So a suggestion to a few PCT mates about a side trip to the beach gained steam, and now I'm in the beautiful ocean side town of Carpinteria, CA for a few days off the hot and dusty trail. For me, this has never been a quest to blister my way from Mexico to Canada; it's more about the experiences and forging new friendships. I think it's working.
I've hiked a couple times with a couple from Austria, Hendrik and Valerie. They passed me on my day 2 of the hike with their dog, and I thought I might not see them again since they were much faster than me. But the rigors of the trail can be a great equalizer, especially when a pet is involved. The dog's name is Suta, and she is said to be an Alaskan Husky, but much more of a mixed breed. I caught up to them around mile 370 in the town of Wrightwood. Suta was limping, and they were getting a ride from a trail angel to see the vet. It turns out she had a blister on her paw, but nothing more serious. A few days off the trail and she was ready to get back at it, as were Hendrik and Valerie.
Suta, the amazing trail dog!
But the story of Suta intrigued me more and more as nuggets about her history were shared by other hikers who had spent more time with them. Suta is nine years old, and I would have guessed she is much
younger. Hendrik rescued her when he was working as a guide near a dog sled
camp at the border of Sweden and Finland when she was three years old. Suta was
part of a sled race team in her youth. Apparently, her original owner worked
her very hard, and she eventually became lethargic and unresponsive to commands,
and she often shivered and displayed symptoms of hypothermia. She was given to
a second owner, also a sled dog owner, who discovered that she had developed
problems with her thyroid that probably contributed to her lethargy and
ineffectiveness as a race dog.
This is tough to hear, but a Scandinavian sled dog that can
no long race is an expensive burden and liability to a sled dog racer who is
competing for cash prizes. The decision was made to put Suta down. Her owner
took Suta into the woods, but was unable to pull the trigger. When they
returned to camp, Hendrik heard about the situation and suggested that he might
be interested in adopting her, much to the delight of Suta’s owner.
Hendrik was unsure and bought some time to think about it.
When he went home that evening, he did an internet search to see if he could
find out the meaning behind Suta’s name. What he discovered was an acronym: Stand Up Take Action. This was the sign he was looking for, and the decision would be
final. Suta and Hendrik would be partners.
Initially, Suta had many health issues as well as problems
adapting to social environments with people and other dogs. She was put on
medication for her thyroid problem, which she still takes even now. At that
time, Hendrik lived in the city of Cologne, Germany, so it took some time for
Suta to get over her fear of city life.
Hiking at daybreak does make for great photo opportunities.
Just when things were finally looking up for Suta, her
fortunes took a turn for the worse. She was struck by a car and had no movement
in her hind legs. The vet diagnosed her with a probable crushed spine and
recommended that she be euthanized. But something told Hendrik to seek a second
opinion. Then it was discovered that her spine was actually intact, but that her hip
was crushed. She could undergo expensive medical procedures and lengthy
rehabilitation with no promise that her condition would ever be normal. For
Hendrik, the decision was easy. After all Suta had already been through, he would do everything possible to save his friend.
There were other setbacks, such as when Suta accidently
pulled loose from her brace months too early, but miraculously, her hip healed. They
moved from Germany to Austria near the Alps. Hendrik, an avid hiker, took her
on short hikes to the mountains, and she took to it well. The hikes become
longer. Eventually, three years ago, the pair completed an 800 mile thru-hike
in Finland through some remote and rugged terrain.
Suta had no problems and seemed to have healed not only
physically, but socially as well. Hendrik discovered a kind and gentle side to
his friend. She has become a good trainer for other dogs in teaching them
boundaries, and she is also effective with humans who have undergone traumatic
stress in their lives.
The sliver of the moon dips over formations at Vasquez Rocks.
Bringing a dog on the Pacific Crest Trail creates a new set
of logistical problems, but Suta has adapted well. On the very hot days, she
consumes more water than her human comrades, so this adds extra weight to be
carried. She has her own backpack and normally carries her own food, but when I
hiked with them, she had just returned to the trail after her blister, so
Hendrik was carrying her pack. She seemed to be happy with this setup and
sometimes trotted far ahead of the pack until her friend’s whistle would remind
her to fall back. Hendrik worried about how she would respond to the many
rattlesnakes we encounter, but it has not been a problem. She walks between
Hendrik and Valerie in the snake areas and has expressed no interest in them. Suta now has a trail name of her own, "Dirt Nap," because she likes to dig down to cooler soil to nap on.
When I last saw Hendrik, Valerie, and Suta, they were preparing to night hike out of Hiker Heaven in Agua Dulce, CA to avoid the heat. The next day, me and nine other hiker mates were on our way to the beach for the week to avoid the extreme heat. When I get back to the trail, I'm not sure if I'll catch up to them again, but I hope to see them!
Valerie ("Needles"), Hendrik, and Suta. Good luck friends!
Good times at Hiker Heaven, Agua Dulce, CA.
Hiker Heaven, a popular stop for a day or two or three.
Ten hikers to the beach!
Lots of packs.
At least 40 degrees cooler on the coast than the desert!
Thanks Jennie for the awesome campsite and all the food!
Jennie and her family from Camarillo, CA, hooked us up big time!
My quiet little tent site with the Pacific just beyond that dune.
Some great camp dinners at the beach.
and breakfast, too!
Here is a video recap of the beach side trip, certainly a highlight of the summer adventure!
Osprey Aether, a 60-liter red backpack, died peacefully on June 9, 2017 in Wrightwood, California after 40 months of dedicated service to Fitty Shrimp.
Sunrise above the cloud bank at elevation 7,500 feet.
Aether and Fitty first met in February, 2014 in at the Columbia, Maryland REI store. From that point, they were literally inseparable on the trail. One might say they were attached at the hip. The pair completed two thru-hikes together, the Appalachian Trail in 2014 and the Pacific Northwest Trail in 2015. They also hiked sections of the North Country Trail, the Sheltowee Trace, and the Florida Trail, along with several loop hikes. It is estimated that they traveled together for nearly 4,500 miles in 25 different states.
Fitty and Aether in the final days together.
Despite numerous minor ailments over the past year, it was believed that Aether would be capable of one final thru-hike on the 2,650-mile Pacific Crest Trail. But the rigors of the desert proved to be too much for her. Vital organs began to fail about 300 miles into the trek, just prior the the Deep Creek Hot Springs. Specifically, her hip belt clip broke, compromising her effectiveness in minimizing the strain on Fitty's shoulders. She was transported on foot for 70 miles to the town of Wrightwood where she was pronounced dead on arrival. She was laid to rest in a cardboard box and sent to meet her maker Osprey Packs via U.S. Postal Service, where she will likely be cremated.
In addition to her pal Fitty Shrimp, Aether is survived by Hubba Tent, Kelty Sleeping Bag, and Therma-Rest Sleep Pad, as well as several gadgets and gizmos.
Fitty and the Gear family mourn the loss of Aether.
While there will never be another quite like Aether, her legacy will be carried on by a new and improved Osprey Aether model, a shiny sleek new blue pack. Fitty and Aether II plan to depart Wrightwood on June 10th for a 330-mile jaunt to Kennedy Meadows General Store at the foot of the High Sierra. At that point, a decision will be made whether or not to attempt a 400-mile traverse of the Sierra section, still socked in from record snow pack this past winter and spring, and separated by raging streams of icy runoff.
Snowy peaks above Big Bear Lake, a taste of what lies ahead next month in the High Sierra.
Fitty would like to thank the good people @OspreyPacks, and especially customer service agent Lizzie, for their prompt attention to this matter. The replacement pack was waiting in Wrightwood within 72 hours of report, and they stood behind their lifetime guarantee program, a $290 replacement pack for free!
Fitty and "Aether II," ready to rock on!
Rest in peace, Aether, and thank you for your service!
Araura, Alex, and Mountain climb out of Cajon Pass.
Special "Thanks" to Diana and Ken for hosting Potato Girl and me in Wrightwood... amazing generous people!
Update - 6 June 2018: I wrote this article just a year ago during my PCT hike. I'm so sad to learn that Dennis Neil a.k.a "Hillbilly" passed away yesterday. RIP my friend.
A community of kind-hearted humans exists parallel to the Pacific Crest Trail. We call them "trail angels." If a hiker ever needs help, a ride, a place to stay, or just a hug, a trail angel is not far away.
Trail angel "Hillbilly," his first year to host hikers
On Memorial Day, my trek took me down a very unpleasant stretch of trail. After a traverse of the mountains surrounding San Jacinto Peak, hikers begin a long decent on the Palm Springs side of the range. The cool mountain air quickly dissipates, and the hot, dry desert heat blankets the terrain. The trail zig zags a mile this way, then a mile back, and then back again. It's a frustrating twenty miles of trail, even though one can see Interstate 10, just five miles away as the crow flies.
Just another awesome sunrise in the desert
The day began with a brilliant sunrise and two curious hummingbirds flapping before my face. Even though I started early, the temperature hit 90 or so by about 8:00. I took several breaks to water up, but water was running short. I passed a milestone, the 200 mile mark of the PCT. It seems like further. About then, I passed by a swarm of angry yellow jackets, and one of them struck me in the shoulder. The highway was right before me, westbound traffic at a near standstill at the end of the holiday weekend. But with every switchback, it seemed I was getting no closer.
200 crummy miles, that's all?
At around noon, I approached a man and woman, about my age. The man was in bad shape, suffering from heat exhaustion and laid out in the tiny shadow cast by a large rock. I offered my last half-liter of water, solar heated to about hot tub consistency. It was just a mile to the bottom of the mountain where there is a drinking fountain with water piped in from who knows where. As I approached the bottom, another hiker was returning to the ailing man with more water.
I was able to refresh somewhat at the fountain, sharing the trickle with about 1,000 honey bees, and an occasional yellow jacket, likely from the swarm that struck me. But then it would be another 4 plus miles across the flat sandy desert floor to an access road parallel to the interstate. My plan was to hitch a ride into nearby Cabazon to get town food and a quick resupply.
It took two hours to make that final trek, and I was beaten and worn after trudging through the hot sand. But as I reached the underpass, my fortunes changed, and my day took a turn for the better. A trail angel by the name of Mama Bear had set up a tailgate of sorts for the exhausted hikers, something she does at this spot five days a week during the peak hiker season. She greeted me with a hug and a cold soda. She said the temperature under the overpass was 94F. It was 105F out where I'd just come from. After I regrouped, I had a hot dog, chips, watermelon, and chocolate cake.
Mama Bear (right) brings relief to hurting hikers.
After an hour or two, Mama Bear packed up to head to her home over 40 miles away. But first, she braved the holiday traffic to get me to a convenience store for my mini-resupply. She told me about another trail angel they call "Hillbilly," who lives in Cabazon and hosts weary hikers. A quick call to Hillbilly, and she confirmed that I was welcome to stay.
When we pulled into his driveway, we were greeted by his three dogs, Jack, Hershey, and Sadie. The next thing I noticed was a beautiful antique Ford pickup truck parked in the garage. I unloaded my things from Mama Bear's vehicle and met Hillbilly. He invited me inside, where four other hikers were watching movies in the air conditioned front room. Two of them were still there from the previous night, while two others just needed a getaway for the afternoon. I grabbed a much needed shower and tossed my stinky clothes in the laundry. Hillbilly drove the others to the trail head for an evening hike out. I would have the couch to myself.
In his absence, I became acquainted with Hillbilly's dogs, and also his two house cats, Buddy and Holly. I enjoyed the Disney film, Muana, while resting on the sofa. When Hillbilly returned, we became acquainted, and I had many questions about that Ford truck. He fired her up and backed her out of the garage for me so I could get some photographs. Next, he showed me a room he referred to as his wife's room, filled with M&M collectibles. His wife just passed away in December. They were married 39 years, high school sweethearts, two kids, two grandchildren.
A 1949 Ford. He drives her in parades sometimes.
I think I want one!
M&M Museum
Next, we went to his office. On his computer screen was a picture of his late wife, who he obviously missed tremendously. He poured two shots of grain alcohol, 190 proof, and we threw them back, much to my hesitation. He tipped his glass to the picture on the screen and said, "Miss you, honey." It really touched me. Next, as is tradition I suppose, I was offered a cherry marinated in moonshine, hence his name, "Hillbilly."
Moonshine cherries? Not bad!
Hillbilly joined the army right after high school, and later, he served in Baghdad as a sniper in the days leading up to Operation Desert Storm. Back stateside, he served in the little-known branch of the army known as the narcotics division. He let me leaf through a scrapbook with photographs and many of the raids he participated in, some of which lead directly to big time cartels. He was shot in the back while working border patrol, and shows off his scar as he is usually shirtless around the house. He was shot in the sternum during a raid, but he had a custom made bullet-proof vest, not the standard issue variety provided by the military. It saved him.
A former Army sniper, and many scars.
The years in the military took a toll on his body, and the army put him on full permanent disability years ago. The physical deterioration is a obvious compared to the hulky young soldier in the scrapbook pictures. He's had six surgeries on one shoulder and three on the other; both are clearly still messed up from breaking down doors back in the day.
This is Hillbilly's first season hosting hikers. I suppose he's thought about it for years, being so close to the trail, but his wife's passing must have triggered a need. Perhaps Hillbilly needs the hikers as much as the hikers need Hillbilly in this rough stretch of desert hiking. He estimates that he has hosted about 300 hikers this season, since the first of April.
Derek, Anthony, Cronk and Mattie, heading back to the dusty trail.
Hillbilly spends his days tending to exotic flowers in his garden, refreshing jugs of water under the interstate, the "I-10" Oasis, as he calls it, and doing shots with hikers, while maintaining memorials and tributes to his wife.
Orchids in the desert.
After a restful night, I was ready to get back to the trail, but there was a problem. My trekking poles were missing. A quick call back to Mama Bear and my fears were confirmed. I'd left them in her vehicle. Not to worry. Hillbilly had a spare set that a hiker had left with him when he decided to quit the trail. Hillbilly called it the exchange program; take a set, leave a set. They say in the hiker community that whatever you need, the trail will provide. Indeed it does!
I'm happy I took the opportunity to visit with Hillbilly. A more interesting character I've yet to meet, and a more memorable Memorial Day I've never experienced! God speed, my friend!
God bless the United States of America and all of her Trail Angels!
Everyone hiking the Pacific Crest Trail has some kind of story to tell. Some are eager to say why they are doing what they're doing. For others, it takes some time to get comfortable telling their story. In getting to know my fellow hikers during this first couple weeks, no story has grabbed me like Brady's story.
I met Brady during the first mile on the first day on the PCT. He is a tall lanky young guy from East Tennessee, age 24, and a graduate of the University of Tennessee. Last year, with no firefighting experience, he applied for firefighting positions everywhere he could think to. He was accepted by a company in Northern California and gained some experience in the mountains.
Five days after we first met, Brady and I were sitting at Mom's, a place in the trail town of Julian that offers complimentary pie and ice cream to PCT hikers. We were asking each other how we got into hiking. I was especially interested in hearing why he chose to hike the PCT rather than the Appalachian Trail, which almost passes through his back yard. Brady admitted that he had never been much of a hiking enthusiast. But his best friend was an avid hiker and talked Brady into hiking the PCT with him.
The two spent much of the past year preparing, acquiring gear, studying all the logistical problems, sending off for the proper permits, purchasing plane tickets. Their excitement grew as the big day approached. But then the unthinkable happened.
Just a couple months from the beginning of their epic adventure together, Brady's friend was killed in a motorcycle accident. I can't even imagine the pain of trying to grasp and accept this horrible twist of fate, and I'm not sure I could have ever done what Brady did. With his voice quivering and his eyes welling, he told me that rather than cancelling his trip, he would push forward with the hike as a tribute to his best buddy.
But Brady also has a special mission along the way. His friend's father gave Brady a vile containing his friend's ashes with one simple instruction. "Find a special place to put these ashes. You'll know that place when you see it."
Brady enjoying free pie at "Mom's" in Julian, CA
Best of luck to my new friend Brady, and much respect. I hope our paths cross frequently on the long trek toward Canada and that you are able to find peace and comfort through this journey.
Here are some of the other amazing folks I've met along the way so far. For most, trail names have not yet been established. But we're working on it!
Brady (Tennessee) and Joel (Quebec) celebrate 3 mile mark!
Morgan (Washington) tends to blisters.
Cooling off at the Kitchen Creek swimming hole - day 3.
Eric (Wisconsin),
and his new bro Gabe (Michigan).
I named him Patches (Estonia).
Mittens and Jackie, trying to average 25 miles/day to finish by Sept. 1st.
Henry (Minnesota) became known as Colonel Mustard.
Ink Rabbit and Squid chill at Carmen's in Julian.
Me and this German guy named Helmut at Eagle Rock.
Andy (Utah), I think I'll call him Blaze.
Thanks to Bella and Romy for driving us to Idyllwild.
Best wishes as your little family grows!
It just seems time for another one of these. After all, people went to all the trouble to build and maintain these trail systems, so I figure the least we can do is to go walk on them.
My PCT hike begins May 16th at Campo, California.
The Pacific Crest Trail is probably the second most popular of the long distance hiking trails in the U.S. It spans more than 2,600 miles between the California/Mexico border and the Washington/Canada border. It crosses six different ecosystems, from deserts to 13,000 foot snowy mountain passes to rain forests. This makes planning a bit difficult, as far a what gear to bring along.
I don't pretend to think I can make it all the way, end to end. It's pretty late in the season to start, and I pushed back by more than six weeks from my original plan for one big reason... the Sierra Nevada. In case you haven't heard, the California drought is over. The mountains experienced the most snowfall in decades, and even into July, passing through them will be technically challenging. I've added gear that I had never heard of for mountaineering purposes, to be shipped to me after the first 700 miles, the desert section.
Ah, the desert. The good news about the desert is that the storms that socked the mountains have the seasonal creeks still running in the arid zones. So maybe it won't be necessary to carry 15 lbs. of water in my backpack. Still, this is going to be tough.
People often ask why I do this, and it's not easy to answer. It is no vacation; it's the hardest thing I've ever done. But I know that each time I complete a difficult hike, it gives a great sense of pride and accomplishment. It's that feeling when I get my trail legs, just waking up one day to start walking and realizing that things are feeling normal and I'm in the zone. I'm starting out solo, but I don't expect to stay that way for long. It's meeting interesting people, overcoming incredible obstacles together, standing in places where few people will ever stand and experiencing things that few people will ever experience, that's what makes it all worth while, for me anyway. It makes me feel alive.
I'm stepping up my photography game this time, with a new Sony a6000 and a little tripod. I'll mostly be figuring it out on the fly, but I am excited to see what happens with it. It adds to my pack weight significantly, but I'm sacrificing a few niceties to make room, like my camp stove and fuel.
Camera and electronics setup on point!
I'll try to update my blog as time, energy, and phone signals permit, as well as the twitter @FittyShrimp and instagram @FittyShrimp. Also, please follow my progress on my map page "Where Fitty At?", send me messages, and come join me for a section if the urge strikes!
My travels found me in the Orlando area for much of November and December. My folks needed some help with the drive from Kentucky to the resort area around Disney to utilize their time share points, and I volunteered. But I would go crazy if I did not get away from that situation for a bit.
The Florida Trail has been on my radar for a while now, and by nearly all accounts, the most favored section cuts through the Ocala National Forest. I plotted a 100-mile hike whereby I could end at the Amtrak station in Palatka. From there, I could make my way back to Disney without asking anyone to come pick me up.
Tuesday, November 15th:
After dropping my sister off at the Sanford airport for her early flight home, I was dropped off nearby at the Bear Pond trail head in Heathrow. I was on the trail by shortly after daybreak and was set up for a lot of miles right out of the gate on Day 1.
Full moon setting over Bear Pond
Thanks Mom and Dad!
I was able to knock out close to 20 miles on the first day, all the way through the Seminole State Forest section. The day featured lunch at Black Water Creek, a quick visit with a crew of trail maintenance volunteers, a good bit of road and highway walking, and a long stretch without a good water source. Early in the evening, I finally found a spigot next to a maintenance shed at the La-no-che boy scout camp. I dumped out the filthy water I'd collected from a canal a few miles back and watered up for the night. I pitched my tent just as the sun was setting about 5:30. I was too worn out to eat after hiking that far. I opted for a nap before supper, but I didn't wake up until after midnight with the bright full moon beaming down.
More than a handful
Wednesday, November 16th:
I had a quick midnight snack and then slept straight through until 8:00 a.m. That's about 14 hours of sleep, quality sleep, too. Even though there are no mountains, 20 miles on the first day of any hike is a bit much for me. With a later start, this day would be much more manageable.
Good morning, tree!
Pretty early in the day, I entered the Ocala National Forest. I stopped for a long break at a small spring, and decided to stay at the campground at Alexander Springs, about 12 miles for the day. After a nice dip in the spring fed lake, I fixed a hearty supper of tuna and potatoes. Thursday, November 17th:
I took advantage of the shower house at the campground, but I couldn't get the water to heat up, and the morning temps were chilly, in the 40's I would guess.
Day 3 on the trail featured a lunch break next to Farles Lake and a trek through Farles Prairie. It's gun season in Florida this week, and I have my orange shirt on. This was the first day I came upon hunters, and it did make me a bit nervous as a hiker passing through. After about 14 miles, I set up camp along an overgrown dirt/sand road.
Farles Prairie
Friday, November 18th:
It's a bit strange that Florida has a population of 20 million, plus 5 or 10 million tourists on any given day, and I saw only a few of them all week. Today, I would get an early start and hang out at the Juniper Springs Recreation Area for a few hours.
The park staff at the front gate let me use a couple outlets to charge my devices, and off I went to explore. The store was open, and I gorged on microwave cheeseburgers and ice cream. The swimming area was beautiful, but only a few guests. I learned that a wild fire had closed the highway leading to the park, so only the folks staying in the adjacent campground would be around. Also, I learned about a mother bear and three little cubs that had been hanging around the area. While I was checking out the canoe launch dock, one of the cubs climbed out of the water and checked me out. I cursed my luck that my phone camera was on the charger, but it was cool to see.
Juniper Springs
I hiked on after lunch and quickly made my destination, Hidden Pond. There was one other camper, and we chatted a bit. I was entertained by a pair of sandhill cranes and I nearly stepped on a pygmy rattlesnake. I set up my tent overlooking the prairie, but I didn't even use it because it seemed like a nice night for cowboy camping in the moonlight. A pack of coyotes sang to me later that night.
Silly cranes
Saturday, November 19th:
Once I got moving, I made good time, other than an unfruitful side trip down a trail where I thought there was a sinkhole where I would water up. It wasn't there. An hour later, I reached said sinkhole.
There is a nice campground at the south end of the Hopkins Prairie where I took a long lunch break. The day turned uncomfortably warm, too warm to hike along an open prairie, but that was the agenda. The trail skirts by the eastern edge of the prairie, which floods frequently in the spring and summer, but is bone-dry this time of year.
I finally reentered the forest and stopped after a 15-mile day. Again, I decided to cowboy camp under the moon and stars. A cold front moved through late that night, with some wind and a few clouds. Then clear skies returned, and the temperature plummeted.
Sunday, November 20th:
I'm pretty sure it was in the 30's, but I cowboy camped anyway. Once the sun came up and the hiking started, I warmed up quickly. There is a place called the 88 Store, a pretty famous stopover among Florida Trail hikers, and I arrived late in the morning. I had read great things about this place and its proprietors. They were preparing to host a birthday party later in the day. Deer hunters from the local area popped in frequently, and it seems they could keep their kills in a cooler outside for a fee, not sure. There was a lot of hunting permit type business going on, and I didn't care enough to ask anyone. The food options were basically microwave sandwiches and candy bars, not what I was hoping for. Anyway, the place was way more of a dump than I expected, even by thru-hiker standards, and I didn't get a warm and fuzzy welcome vibe. So I stayed to myself mostly while taking advantage of the internet and following NFL games on my phone. I left around 4:00 to camp somewhere a few miles up the trail.
My plan was to check out Grassy Pond for possible camping. I took a side trail down to a nice grassy area by the pond, but a man and woman were getting it on there, so I decided to take advantage of the remaining daylight to push further along. Because of the long stop at the store, I put in only about eight miles total for the day.
Monday, November 21st:
I noticed a pain in my middle toe over the previous couple days. The pain is manageable if I scrunch my toes into kind of a fist, but this would not be a great solution if this were a much longer hike. I guess I strained a tendon somehow.
The highlights of the day's hike included the completion of the Ocala section at Rodman Reservoir, crossing the dam, and hiking along the canal greenway. There is a canal operator who escorts hikers across, but I arrived after his shift had ended. So I had to camp at a state operated campground next to the lock, which I had completely to myself. About 16 miles today.
Marjorie Harris Carr Cross Florida Greenway
Tuesday, November 22nd:
The lock manager was on duty bright and early, and I chatted with him a bit about the history behind this place (see video link below). Several manatee were frolicking around the upper pool and playfully greeted us.
Hiking outside of the national forest was not as great. Much of the day was spent on muddy logging roads, zig-zagging through mosquito infested wetlands for about eight miles to the highway, Rt. 100. From there, another eight miles along the highway, in the baking sun. At the first gas station I came to, I had a huge soft drink and two corn dogs.
The daily train to Orlando departs before noon, so I decided to pamper myself with a hotel room overlooking the St. Johns River. This concluded my 100 mile hike along the Florida Trail.
One day, perhaps, I'll attempt a thru-hike of the entire 1,100 route. Until then, here is a video from my YouTube channel covering this hike's highlights, the importance of the aquifer, and the history of the ill-fated Cross Florida Canal.
