---November 11th 2013--
The True American Spirit
I got to Lassen to close to nightfall to explore much, so I got to the campground, and went for a small trek. I was walking light, so I didn’t feel my injured leg (same injury than in Utah), so in the morning, I decided to take an 8 mile long trek heading to a gorgeous geothermal area, also passing by a beautiful waterfall covered in algae ranging from green to yellow to dark red. The first few miles weren’t so bad, but the constant climbing and the 60lbs strapped to my back got my body strained. And eventually, my leg went from very uncomfortable to horribly painful. The pain got so bad that eventually, I could only walk for five minutes before needing a break where my leg would shake for another five minutes. I felt like my knee was going to explode at every step. But I could stop since the trail didn’t have any easy way out. I just had to keep going.
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| Lassen Natl Park |
When I finally dragged my damaged body out of the trail, I realised I couldn’t hitchhike. The simple action of standing up was too demanding for me, so I dropped my bag, and sat on a rock at the entrance of the trailhead. Without my bag, I could stand up on my shaky leg but without putting too much weight. Being right next to the trailhead, I would ask people where they were going; hoping to get a ride out of the park, but everyone was heading the other way. Finally, as I was able to put full weight on my leg, I pushed myself through the ten steps between the road and I.
Two rides later, I was in Old Station. This tiny little town was my next destination. Being just a few minutes from Lassen, Old Station has another volcanic attraction which is not part of the park: the Subway. The Subway is a beautiful lava tube with naturally “polished” wall. Usually, the lava tubes has very rough surface, looking like the roof has collapsed, but this one look like someone had put cement on the wall to make the tunnel look like a subway station. These tubes are found close to old volcanic region since they are built from the lava itself. As the boiling hot and liquid lava flows down its path, it will contact the cooler air. That air steals the heat from the surface changing the liquid lava into rock. From that point, the rock insulates the lava, keeping it into a liquid state. Eventually, the lava will stop flowing, thus leaving behind a long fully enclosed tube. Up until part of the roof collapses, these tunnel stay unknown, but one day, time wins over the tube, leaving us the opportunity to visit these incredible formation.
Before carrying my bag to the tunnel, about a mile from my drop off point, I decided to grab something to eat. Maybe, just maybe, that putting a little extra food in my stomach was going to help me with the little trail left to walk that day.
As I was eating a sandwich, a couple entered the restaurant. They sat at the other end of the restaurant, but I guess for tem distance wasn’t of any concern.
“Are you one of those PCT hikers?” the man asked me while screaming across the otherwise empty canteen. The PCT is a trail going from the Mexican border to the Canadian one. Every year, a handful of courageous hiker tackle the long hike, passing through Old Station.
“No, I’m just hitchhiking across the western half of the state; going from park to park to enjoy the gorgeous landscape. In fact, I just came from Lessen, and I’m heading toward the Subway. The only problem, is that I realised I forgot my cap in one of yesterday’s car, so I’m a little exhausted due to that heat.”
The old man looked at me with his questioning face and handle bar mustache, and replied “Well, if you want, I have lots of cap at home. If you want, you can pass by after the Subway.” He handed me a drawing of the two streets town indicating were the restaurant was and where his house was.
I went exploring the lava tube and came back to town to get a new hat. When I got to his place, he notices I wasn’t doing so well. I stank, was sweaty, exhausted from the Sun beating on my head, and awkward walk due to my injury. He once more looked at me with his questioning face, and told me “You look like someone how needs a small break. If you want, it would be a pleasure for us to have you over for the night. We don’t have anywhere for you to sleep in the house, but we have a small cabin with a bed, and a washroom if you want.”
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| The Subway |
That sounded amazing. I could shower, wash my cloth eat, and sleep with a pillow and a comfortable bed to let my leg gain a little straight.
I hung out with them for the night, and eventually headed to dreamland. The next morning, I got out and saw they were awake. I knocked to thanks for the night, but got invited for breakfast instead. To make things even better, they offered me tons of food, saying they didn’t want to bring it back to Napa Valley, where they lived for the winter, and gave me there phone number in case I was going to pass by there.
Jurassic Park
After I left Old Station, I hitched slightly north toward Burney Fall, Mount-Sashta and Castle Crags. The road proofed slightly challenging, for mostly odd reason. As I had realised two nights before, I had forgotten my toothbrush at Joe’s place. I thought I could buy some in Old Station, but they all came in three-pack, so I decided to wait a little longer. The problem was that my teeth were starting to feel really dirty and even crusty. Not having much to my disposal, I decided to grab a handful of pine needles, bit them to make them slightly shorter and all the same length and used them as toothbrush. To my great surprise, it actually worked. As I was waiting for my next ride, I couldn’t help but lick my teeth to feel the cleanness resulted from my improvised toothbrush.
After having visited the 129 feet tall waterfall of Burney, I got stuck on one of those hellish roads. The waterfalls were located far from any road or town. As I got out of the park, I realised there was no safe place for any car to pull over, and I was in the middle a sharp curve. There was no way for me to hitchhike from the only sign telling drivers why I was in such a remote location. I had no choice, walk to the next town, hoping to catch a ride before. Still dragging my injured leg, I walked for two hours before a lady stop. Before opening the door, she lowered her window and asked me “Why are you here? You are far from everything. Did your ex-driver drop you here because he didn’t like you?” I explained to her that I was coming from Burney Fall but couldn’t find a safe place to hitchhike, and started walking instead. “Alright, hop in. You don’t look like a psychopath anyway” she replied.
We eventually got to the intersection where separating our path. I got to a gas station, bought a toothbrush, and walk for a little while until I found a place to hide my tent. I cooked and lay in bed for a few minutes until the urge of pooping caught me. I didn’t have the time to run back to the gas station, so I leaned on a tree and exited everything. Unfortunately, I had no toilet paper with me. Unlike my last nature dump, there was no moss to wipe, neither were there any leafs, soft bark or smooth rocks. Walking in the most awkward way through the forest, I decided to use a pine cone, but it was too painful, so I used pine needles, again. I stacked as much as I could and wiped. It wasn’t comfortable at all, but at least I had most of it off. I could now head to the gas station and wipe nicely.
The next morning, as I was waiting on the side of the road to start my decent south, I witnessed a horrible scene. I saw a grey SUV stop a few feet in front of me, on the other side of the street, and through a beautiful dog out, before disappearing in the horizon. I could see the dog’s sadness of being left out, alone in the forest. I felt so bad that I actually thought of taking it with me, but hitchhiking with a dog is not easy. I sure hope he found a new owner, and better than the jerk driving that SUV.
Just a few minutes later, I got picked up by probably one of my least favorite ride of the trip. Nothing bad happened, but the personality of the driver was unbearable. To that point, Americans had proven to be great people that valued helping and were far from being the cliché we see on TV. Of course, hitchhiking is more likely to make you interact with open minded people, but this one was the cliché overconfident patriotic disrespectful guy which is at the source of all the hatred the rest of the world has toward American. Despite all the racism thrown throughout our conversation, the story that stuck with me most took place when he was in New-Zealand.
“One day, as I was doing service in New-Zealand, I went to a bar in a local town. Eventually, I got up on my table and scream to everyone ‘You guys should all thank me. Thanks to the American, you can have a country. If it weren’t from us, you guys couldn’t defend yourself from anyone. So you are welcome.’ I mean, New-Zealand shouldn’t even be allowed to be a country. They are tiny, smaller than California. They have no right to be a part of the United Nation, if California can’t be in it. We are bigger; we should have more right than them.” He looked at me with the proudest smile, knowing I was going to agree. I couldn’t even smile at his statement. He was wrong on every level; from saying that while being a guest in their country, to the American is the reason the world exists, he was wrong. I do believe America has a great impact on the world, but from there to say that every country who is slightly smaller them California wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for them; I don’t think so. I must say, I was very happy to exit that overly confident driver.
There it was, the Pacific Coast. The coast I was to follow almost all the way until Christmas. My first destination was the Redwood Forest, mostly for Fern Canyon. The driver who brought me to the coast was much nicer; I was back with my usual rides: helpful and open minded. As we got closer to the park, I described to my driver what Fern Canyon was. Intrigued by my description, he offered me to visit the canyon with me. Once at the Redwood State Park, we got on a small dirt road and headed to the canyon. The road was passing to the luxuriant rain forest of the Redwoods. Between the oversized trees, a thick green forest floor covered the ground. Moss, small trees covered in lichen and disproportional fern gave the feeling of being stuck on Jurassic Park. Due to the late hours, we couldn’t make it to the canyon, so we got to ride back on the narrow passage crossing the prehistorical looking forest, but this time, only seen through the car’s light. With the fog slowly lowering itself, we weren’t scared for a deer or a moose on the road, but a T-Rex appearing from the deep darkness on each side of us.
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| Fern Canyon |
Once back in the XXIst century, my driver dropped me in Orick. The town was very small, but didn’t offer any place for me to camp, legally nor illegally. I went to the local gas station and asked if he knew where I could find a place to camp. He told to wait and called a friend. Just a few seconds later, he told “go to the third house on the right, and ring the doorbell. So I did, and so I got a backward on which to camp. I may have dreamed of Dinosaurs all night, ut I slept like a baby.
Never Judge a Book by its Cover
Out of my entire trip, this one is probably the weirdest (with the ghost), and the only one without a conclusion. As I was lowering myself through the state, I got picked up by my second RV. The vehicle was old and messy in the inside. In it, two modern hippies were driving. They didn’t have much money, and so, they would try to drive on the minimal; shutting down the engine when going downhill, driving at ridiculously low speed, and only using $5 on fuel at the time. Personally, I never understood that concept. You need to refuel in a few kilometers, might as well refuel fully, and get it over with. Plus, you end up losing fuel just searching for gas station, but that wasn’t my problem. I managed to get them to stop at Glass Beach for a few minutes, which they gladly did. What makes Glass Beach special is that the beach used to be a dump. Eventually, the town decided to clean the beach, mostly due to the environmental problem having a dump on the ocean had. The only thing they didn’t clean was the broken glass lying all throughout the beach. With time, tide and the constant salt grinding the sharp edges off, the small pieces of glass became polished, making the beach accessible and colorful. Now it is illegal to remove any pieces of glass as the town have decided to protect them.
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| Glass Beach, the only place in America where picking up trash is illigal (well at least for glass) |
After enjoying a nice time at the ex-local dump, we climbed back in the RV and headed south. As night had now showed itself, the inevitable happened, we ran out of gas. Even worst, we were in a sharp curved with a huge blind spot. Luckily for us, a road construction truck pulled over, and used his construction equipment to regulate traffic as we backed up on neutral to a safer spot. We asked the guy if it was possible to get a ride to the gas station about a mile from us, but he only had one place. Having my big backpack to carry around, the driver gave the fuel canister and told me to take the lift as he would walk.
Once at the gas station, I saluted the police officer refueling, threw my bag on the floor, and put my music. Two-three minutes later, another cop car pulled over, also to refuel. Finally, out of the darkness of a moonless night, I saw my driver slowly walking. I walked toward him as a third cop car came to the gas station. Still with my music in my ears, I gave the fuel can to the driver and got back to my bag, not minding much. I thought the cop was asking question about the car left on the side of the street. I couldn’t hear anything, even when I shutdown my music, but I was looking at the scene. The three cops gathered around the poor driver, and talked with him for a few minutes. Eventually, one came to me. With all the casualty in the world, he asked me who I was, what was I doing, and asked me few question about my trip so far. I thought he wasn’t interested in the story of the other guy and decided to see what was my story, but it turns out he was interrogating me with me knowing. But just as he left, he said “I just wanted to make sure you were not a part of this”. Be a part of what, I asked myself.
Clearly, something was going on, but what was I supposed to do. Leaving might tell the cops I’m trying to escape, but if I stay, do I listen or not. I thought the less I know, the less I’ll be involved, so I just stayed were I was and pretended to listen to music, as if nothing weird was happening. Eventually, I could see the tone of the discussion had grown in intensity. My driver started screaming at the three police officer, We could all see he was about to get physical, and just like that, one of the police officer took his handcuff. As he was getting handcuffed, the guy dropped the fuel can on the ground and screamed at me to “pick up my canister”. Why did he say it was mine? Was the canister involved in all this? Why was he suddenly mad at, I had nothing to do with all this.
Things were getting to weird, so I got up, grabbed my bag, and headed for a little restaurant across the street. To avoid looking like I was trying to run away, I saluted the officers, and left. The food may have being good, but I couldn’t fully appreciate it. What had just happened? Was I ever to know? Having that night stuck in my head for the next few days, I got to analyse it quite a few time, and all I got is that he had probably told me, as I wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying, probably looking at the surrounding landscape, that he had committed a small crime. And when he showed up at the gas station, he saw me with three cops. He probably thought I had snitched on him, which could be the reason why he was mad at me. But still, why my canister; what does that have to do with all of this? I guess I’ll never know!
My night wasn’t very nice neither, as a huge wood rat paid me a few visit, trying to get into my bag. I thought it was weird since all my food was stocked in a steel box on the camping lot.
The next morning, still puzzled, I got back on the road, and a thought came to mind. “I’m stuck on a small pull over cornered by the ocean cliff, and the highway. What if the guy got bailed out of jail and sees me. With his RV, it would be easy for him to corner me. Plus, he knows where I’m heading. That being said, I also knew where he was heading. It took two-three rides, but eventually, I got to Bowling Ball Beach where I knew he would turn. I visited the beach, with its slightly odd formations and got back on the road.
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| Bolwing Ball Beach |
I was still in shock from the night before when an old rusty pickup stopped by my side. I ran toward it and saw one of the most intimidating drivers of my trip. With his skulled bandana covering his grey hair and forehead, sunglasses covering his eyes, big white beard, leather jacket with motorcycle gang sowed to it, covered with studs and covering a jeans jacket, the decently sized biker was proving quite intimidating. He was the definition of the type of ride my mom would tell not to take. And following the previous night, I hesitated, but it wouldn’t be fair to refuse his generosity just because of the action of other guy. I told myself: “Prove me judgement wrong” and hopped in the car.
He turned out to be great guy. I told him I was trying to visit Salt Point, and he offered to make the detour with me to visit it, but we never found the entrance. We kept on riding in the direction of the Calistoga, so that I could visit their Petrified Forest. On the way there, the gentlemen bought me a few samples of honey, and once in Calistoga, he stayed with me, driving around town to make sure I could find some a place to camp for the night. Once found, we shook hand and he went his way. I guess this definitely show that you can’t judge someone without getting to know them. In one case, I got a ride from a guy who looks like some of my friends, but turned out to a bad person, at least from what I was, but I don’t have all the clues to lay judgement, and on the other, you have the type of guy people run away from, which turns out to be a real peach.
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| Calistoga's Petrified Forest |
Finally, a Familiar Face
After a quick visit of the Petrified Forest, I was supposed to head for Alamere Fall and the Muir Forest, but my head wanted otherwise. A few weeks back, Mik, with whom I was supposed to meet back in Vancouver, had sent me an email saying he was working in San Francisco. It had being three month since my last familiar face, and it wasn’t just any face, it was Mik’s, my best friend. I couldn’t help myself; I had to go see him. Being slightly inland, I decided not to detour toward the coast. I eventually crossed the famous Golden Gate Bridge and got in town.
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| Golden Gate |
I first decided to go for a walk along the pier and eventually, visit San Francisco’s streets. It was a perfect moment to visit a perfect city. As I was walking along pier 39, known for it’s seals, the song If You’re Going to San Francisco from the Mamas and the Papas was playing. Adding the warm weather after so many shivering nights and the perfectly clear sky, and you got the most ideal first impression of the mythical city.
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| Odd house in San Francisco |
When I found internet, I got to send him an email, and he gave me his address. He wasn’t in San Francisco, but in one of the suburbs. After five hours dragging my bag around the nice, and less nice, streets of San Francisco, I took the train, and after and extra hour lost in the suburb, I found his house. Just as I raised my hand to knock on the door, I saw him, still working. I froze for a moment; the time needed to fully enjoy the moment, and knocked.
Living at Mik new temporary house was something quite odd. He lived with ten other programmers, and as those who know programmers know, they do not have much schedule. With that in mind, there was always someone up working. What that meant for me is that as I would sleep on the couch, I would wake up at 3am, see all the light and think, “Oh the Sun is up, let’s start the day.” The first time or two, I actually, took a shower got dressed and got to the door before realising it was still night. I got to sleep in Mik’s bed on some occasion as he would work all night, but other than those nights, sleeping proved difficult.
Seeing Mik felt great, but there one thing that bugged both of us; he’s an outdoor guy and so am I. Only being able to hangout as he would work wasn’t enough, we needed to head into the Californian nature. At first, our goal was to hitchhike for a weekend, but hitchhiking couldn’t cover enough ground for us to enjoy the area and for him to get back to work on time, so we decided to call Gaetan, a friend of Mik who had a Westfalia. Gaetan and Mik met back in Vancouver, as Mik was desperately trying to find a way to head down to Frisco. Together, they drove through Washington, Oregon and Northern California. Once in San Fran, Mik left the ride to find a house to stay at, whereas Gaetan kept on travelling in the near region.
We took a few minutes and planned our small roadtrip. Still needing to work for a few days, I was going to hitchhike toward Pinnacles Natl Park, and the three of us were to meet in Gilroy on Friday evening, to drive until we were too tired to continue. First, we would take the time to visit the Sequoia Natl Park, followed the next day by Yosemite.
The Last Bit of Pain
I may have being looking forward for our little roadtrip, but I still had three days to kill, so I grabbed my bag and headed south. I took a bus out of the city, and got to Santa Cruz. I walked through town and headed to the Mystery Spot. This attraction is a manmade crocked house that gives the illusion of not respecting gravity. The illusions in the house were great, and I definitely enjoy my evening over there.
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| Odd gravity of the Mystery Spot |
Once in Soledad, I had to face the same faith that happens to nearly every hitchhiker in nearly every town; I had to cross the city by foot. This time, a surprise was waiting to happen. Travis, a local journalist from a nearing town saw me carrying my heavy backpack. With assumed I wasn’t a local guy, so he stopped by my side and asked me what I was doing. I expressed my goal to reach the Pinnacles National Park, and he told me to hop in.
As we drove, we talked about the different things he had done reports on, and also a little about my trip. Through these stories, I told him about my leg injury which wasn’t hurting that much at the moment, but that I could still feel. We arrived at the park entrance at around two o’clock in the afternoon. He knew it wasn’t smart to leave me there since the park was on a dead end and it didn’t have any camping. Furthermore, with the early winter sunset, and the late time, it meant all the cars were going to leave in not too long. I told him not to worry for me as I always find a way out. He responded with: “At least, take my card. If there is any problem, just call me and I’ll come pick you up. Please, don’t hesitate.”
I quickly realised I wasn’t going to hitch a ride to the trailhead, so I decided to walk there. This was the start of the most painful experience of my life. I climbed the first small hill, then a second one, and a third and fourth. Up until, forty-five minutes later, I got to the trailhead parking lot. My leg was starting to hurt again, but being that close to the goal forced me not to quite. I stashed my bag in the washroom, to make sure I didn’t have to carry it, and I left. A walked over a few more hill tops, through a landslide cave and through very rough terrain later and I was back at the parking lot. I had being walking for an hour and fifteen minutes. Thankfully, the washrooms were still open, but there were no more cars and the sun was dangerously low, it was time to go. My leg was slowly getting worst and worst, but at this point I had no option, walk back to the visitor center and hope that someone is still in there. As I was walking back through the small hills for another hurtful 45 minutes, the Sun vanished behind the clouds and finally, behind the horizon. The Sun was now sleeping, but still giving me it last few rays. As I was at the bottom of one of the hills, I looked up, and there I saw the silhouette of a creature I couldn’t quite determine. It instantly disappeared in the bush. I wasn’t sure if it was some sort of wild cat, a fox or a coyote, but needless to say, I didn’t wanted to see any of them at this time of the day, and especially with the amount of pain in my leg which would definitely slow me down.
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| Walking through the Pinnacles |
Scared and hurt, I managed to reach the visitor center, and to my great appreciation, there were still lights inside. I walk to the main door, but no one was there. A bit discouraged, I look left and right and finally notice a small line of light under one of the other door. I got to it and knocked. “It’s closed, come tomorrow” was the answer. “That is not the problem, I’m stuck in the park and need a little bit of help, could come open so we can talk”. I then heard slow step coming toward the door and a set of keys wiggling. I explained the situation to the park ranger who didn’t seems too happy about me bothering her while working. With a rough tone and serious face, she told me “Look, Google Map wants to make a street view of the trail in the park, so I need to fill all the paperwork for it. I don’t know I long it’s going to take me. I could finish at midnight, or at two in the morning.” She paused and continued with “Look there are your options. There are no camping in the park, and I won’t make an exception, so if you want to camp, you need to sleep in the ditch on the outside of the park, you can wait for me, but that might be a five or more hour wait, or you can walk to Soledad and take a small room at a local motel, it’s about 11 miles.”
My options were short, and the only one that made sense, to sleep in the ditch, wasn’t an option since I absolutely had to be in Gilroy within the next 24 hours. Being in a dead end meant that there would be no cars in the morning to pick me up as they all the potential car would first need to enter and visit the park before passing again. Not sure what to do, I tried to call Travis, but I had no reception, so that left me with an eleven miles walk in pick darkness, carrying 60lbs and with my leg getting worst and worst. The moon had being up all day, and was now resting with the Sun, and as for the stars, they two weren’t there as a thick cloud was covering them. There was absolutely no light and my head lamp had low batteries, so I didn’t wanted to use it. Awkwardly walking over my left leg, I walked along the white line of the street. It was the only thing I could see, and only for a small two feet in front of me. I felt like a blind men. The park being on top of the mountain meant that I would be walking downhill for the quasi-totality of my coming hike, but walking downhill also means that every steps are falling from a little higher and picking up more speed. This acceleration makes everything heavier, so my 60lbs were now a heavier, not by much, but with a leg injury, it was. And finally, since all of the road have a curvature, they force a leg to lift your body slightly more than the other one. Now I didn’t thought it would have such an impact, but when I changed side of the road, I instantly noticed a big difference. My injured leg wasn’t the one lifting me anymore. This turns out to be the only thing to my advantage as my blister also forced me to ware my other pair of shoe which didn’t have any soles, so my hills were hitting the asphalt without any support. I was hurt, and everything was going against me. My leg was getting worst by the step. I felt electric shock zapping my knee at every step also giving the impression it was going to explode, my hills felt like they were cracking to eventually shatter, my pack kept killing my low back, and with my blisters, I felt like thorns were piercing there wait in my foot. Without any food in my belly all day and dead tired, I just felt like crying with the amount of pain going through my body, which just wanted to give up.
Finally, as I got around a turn, I saw the lights of Soledad. Quickly, I took my cellphone out and tried to call Travis again. This time, I had connection, and he answered. I explained to him my situation and he told me he was coming to pick me up, but after work. He had for another hour of work and for an hour of driving, so once more, I had two options, sit and wait, or keep on walking. I looked at the millage sign and realised that by the time he would reach me, I could have walked to Soledad, so I decided to keep walking. Plus, being in total darkness meant I would have nothing to do for 2h, so the risk of falling asleep were big; at least, walking meant I would stay awake. Refusing once more to listen to my body experiencing the greatest pain I have had to endure, I kept moving, one step at the time, and requiring a small break every few steps as I could feel that my leg couldn’t handle the total weight it had to carry.
I kept walking until there was just about four miles left, when suddenly, out of the total darkness, I saw my shadow. At first I didn’t understand how, since it simply disappeared, but it reappeared and grew longer and longer. Wow, a car is coming my way. I instantly turned and tried to give my biggest smile as I raised my thumb in the air. The car stopped, and it was the park ranger. “Sorry if I seemed a bit mean earlier, but with all the work, I felt a little frustrated. Hop in!” I was finally out of my painful hike indeed, but having a car full of trash, there was no room for my bag, so I had to keep it on my knee, cutting the blood flow to my leg. Hurray, the pain keeps on going, but at least, for less long.
She drove me to the McDonald for me to eat and have an easy place to meet with Travis. I grabbed a meal, and sat down. A few minutes later, I called him, and he told me he was going to be stuck at work for an extra hour, but I didn’t care, I didn’t have to walk anymore, everything was all good, or so I thought. Having drunk a little too much, I eventually had to go to the bathroom. I got up, but instantly and without any chance fell down. I tried to get back up, but couldn’t. There it was, my leg had just stopped working. What a horrible news. Tomorrow I needed to hitch to Gilroy, and from there, I was going on a much anticipated roadtrip with Mik, I couldn’t be without legs, we had planned so many hikes. This was bad news, really bad news. Still on the ground, I grabbed the two tables on each side and lifted myself up, only to let myself fall back on the seat. My legs were shacking, and I had no control over them. I stayed sit for a few minutes until they stopped shacking, grabbed the two tables and lifted myself back up. My right leg took all the weight, but my left couldn’t take any. For the next fifteen minutes, I tried putting more and more weight on my bad leg, up until I thought it was strong enough to walk to the bathroom. While I waited for Travis, I kept on getting up to stetch my leg as much as possible, so when Travis came, I could walk to his car.
He brought me back to a friend’s house where we drank for a little while, but he quickly noticed I had absolutely no energy in me, so we called it a night and went back to his house. Not having any bed to offer me, he proposed for me to sleep in his RV, parked in his parking lot. That was my first night in an RV.
The next morning, he brought me to a small restaurant near the highway heading north and bought me breakfast. I felt already much better. My leg was in horrible condition, but I could walk on it, carrying my extra 60lbs. And, for the most part, I didn’t had to walk much that day.
My Second Roadtrip
It took me a full and long day to reach Gilroy, but extending my hitchhiking to nightfall, got me there on time. In fact, I got there a few minutes before Mik and Gaetan. We went for a beer before heading back south to visit the Sequoia Natl Park. Gaetan had his Westfalia and was the official driver, so seeing we were not going to make it, he decided to end our first day in the outskirt of Los Banos. Not having much money, we decided not to stop at a motel, but to sleep on the side of the road. Being his car, Gaetan had the inside of the West, whereas Mik and I camped outside. Knowing we were illegally camping in an orange field, we decided it was best not to put up our tent, so it would be easy to pack back and leave if necessary. I threw my tarp on the dirt and we unrolled our sleeping bag. The night was frisky and the coyote howling at the half covered moon made it hard to fall asleep, but eventually, I did. The next morning, got even worst. The vapor from our breath had frozen, leaving a thin sheet of ice on our sleeping bag. I guess it was time to get back on the road. We drove at first through the orange fields until we saw the mountains, from there; all we had to do was to climb up the zigzagging roads. The trees were getting bigger and taller as we accumulated altitude.
We got to the park, and headed for the first parking lot. The parking lot on its own was impressive as right next to our car, 300 foot trees towered to the sky. The worst is that they weren’t even the tallest yet. We followed a first trail, and as Gaetan who had a cold and was tired due to it, went to back to bed, Mik and I went for another one. There were many more three hundred footers and even two trees that were cut down before the giant sequoia started being protected, but the best part were the few trees which had fallen and who lost their inside in forest fire, leaving behind huge tunnel in which we can walk perfectly straight. When standing up, the sequoia look huge indeed, but as you are walking inside of them the scale go from huge to out of proportion.
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| Can you spot my friends at the bottom of these giants? |
After a quick half hour rest, Gaetan woke up and we decided to aim slightly more south to visit the King’s Canyon, another section of the park. We visited the King’s Canyon, but the low cloud prevented us from fully enjoying it, so we decided to head back in the forest to enjoy a few more trees. Still tired, Gaetan decided to take another nap, as Mik and I once more headed for a trail. Unlike the other trail, this one was down a dirt road. We started walking along the rough road as the Sun was approaching the horizon. The cool air came down bringing with it a spooky sheet of fog. It brought a horror movie like atmosphere as the sequoia would vanish through the white cloud. As we were still walking the spooky road, we started hearing a roar. We turned and to our surprise, we saw a car heading our way. As a joke, especially with the ambiance of the foggy forest, we raised our thumb, but it turned out that the car stopped for us. The driver was a young girl, about our age. What a surprise to have a single girl stopping for two guys walking along the dirt road, not to forget to fog. She drove us to the trailhead just it time to have the last few Sun rays. We walked for half an hour, but eventually had to quit. As we got back to the parking lot, we looked up and saw what could very well be the most amazing sunset I’ve ever seen. I’m not quite sure how this happened, but the normally brown and green sequoia turned into the brightest and purest red, as they would intercept the abnormally low rays of our Sun. As we would leave this incredible sight to look the other way, we could see the red sky piercing through the forest like a forest fire. I had seen lots of sunset at this point, they all showed a yellow and orange sky with pink clouds, but this one went beyond the orange reaching this unique red sky. Truly a moment Mik and I will remember for a long time, and to have experience it with my best friend was a blessing.
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| Sun set with the Sequoias |
We got back on the foggy road and headed back to the car. We walked until the darkness caught us right handed and left us in a pitch dark forest. Enjoying this moment and only having to follow the road, we just kept walking without even using our headlamps.
The end of the first of our two days roadtrip was about to end as we headed to Yosemite, our second destination. We first decided to stop at a small local restaurant, Clingans Junction. As we ordered, the lady looked as us a little puzzled and finally asked if we were from Quebec. When we confirmed her statement, she told us she had lived for a little while in Montreal and had recognised the accent on Gaetan and Mik. Happy to reconnect with this part of her past, she offered us, on the house, some onion rings, garlic bread and desert. We hung out there for a little while for the band to play a few songs, and eventually, got back on the road. On the road maybe, but not for very long as Gaetan’s was getting more and more sick, making him very tired. Knowing there was barely and towns on the road, we decided to pull over in a pullover and sleep on the side of the road. This time, though, we were literally just a few feet from the road. Mik and I put up our tent right next to Gaetan’s West for protection, but other than his car, only ten feet separating us from the highway. The rocky floor of the pullover made it hard to rest properly, so we all woke up early and headed for Mariposa Grove, a section of Yosemite where you can find other giant sequoia.
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| Clingans Junction |
The Sequoia Natl Park was great and had a lot of sequoias, but Mariposa Grove was a notch over. The trees were slightly bigger in diameter, and some were very accessible. So accessible, that we could get inside the still standing and alive tree. One of the neat characteristics of the sequoia is their bark. The bark possesses a certain chemical that is bug-proof, but more importantly, fireproof. With this ability, the bark of the tree will be able to keep the tree living through the many forest fire these 3’000 years old trees will live. That being said, if there is a small hole in the bark, the fire will crawl inside and burn in interior of the tree leaving behind just the bark to hold the tree. With its 24 inch thickness and being the section of the tree feeding the leaves, the sequoia has no difficulties accepting his now burn inside. As a touristic point of view, it is amazing to go directly under these unrealistic trees.
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| That's me inside this Sequoia |
Even if Mariposa Grove is part of Yosemite, the distance between the two entrance is huge, and seeing we were not going to make it in time to San Francisco, Mik called his boss and managed to get an extra day off. This was perfect; we could now take our time.
We got to the valley of Yosemite by mid-evening. We managed to take a few pictures of the ex-glacial valley, but didn’t get the opportunity to explore the park in much depth. We got to a restaurant, ate, grabbed a park map, and headed to the campground. Being a social beast, Mik got us into the fire circle of our neighbour. Once everybody got to bed, we looked at the map and explored each hike to choose one for the next day. Four Miles Hike it will be. This 4,8 miles hike (8,6 if we head back to the trailhead) seemed perfect. It is at walkable distance from the campground, it gives a 180° view of both side of the valley, and it brings us to Glacier Point, the view point of the Half Dome. The Half Dome was our first choice, but being winter, the dangerous hike was closed.
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| The view of Yosemite from the tunnel |
The next morning, we grabbed Mik’s bag and headed to the trail. Unlike all the hike we had done so far in our little roadtrip, this was the first long hike and the first hiking up a mountain. I left with my bad leg and Mik with an injured back. We shared the bag as we climbed up, and when I say share, it wasn’t a question of when you are tired the other one takes it, but rather, when you think you think you’ve walk enough without the bag, you ask to have it.
The hike kept his charm from the very beginning to the very end. The main part of the trail zigzags on the edge of a nearly vertical cliff. At first, the trails climb the west side of the rock. At every turn, a spectacular view of the valley still [light] by the early and low rays of the Sun contrast the two sides of the valley. Despite being in the morning shade, El Captain still thrones the valley with his huge vertical leap falling abruptly into the forest at the bottom of the valley. About halfway up the cliff, the zigzagging trail changes side to offer to upper part of Yosemite. El Captain is left behind, whereas the Half Dome comes to fill the scenery, still [light] by the morning light. This huge monolith sticks out of the surrounding cliffs, and unlike the other domes, the Half Dome have being cut directly down the center by an ancient glacier giving him this unique look. As for the valley, rather than slowly building down toward a regular forest, they keep their dimension until they disappear in a curvature. Unfortunately, this incredible sight eventually leaves place to the third and final stage of the hike. Fortunately, this stage is also magnificent. As most of the hike look at a vast landscape, the hike now focuses on your near surrounding. The summit part of the trail enters a forest of surprisingly huge trees covered in fluorescent green moss as you also start to feel the freshness of the altitude and enjoy the patches of snow lying here and there in the forest and on the trail. Eventually, the trails open up and you meet the view point, Glacier Point. This belvedere, situated 3’200 feet above the bottom of the valley, gives an amazing view on the Half Dome, but this time, you can appreciate a full view of the Yosemite. On the north, a few granite domes give the feeling they are trying push the forest away from them, as they are trying to grow bigger. Right next to them, in the bottom of the valley, the forest gives place to a gorgeous little lake, isolated from the more touristy part of the park.
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| A perfect day to hang out with your best friend: Half Dome |
As the south wall of the valley climbs back up, the Half Dome stands out with all its glory now leaving on its side a small waterfall otherwise hidden. As for the south of the valley, hundreds of hills give way to other smaller valley and a few sharp mountains. To finish off, a picture perfect cloudless blue sky covers the totality of the valley. The trek was amazing, the final view even more, but to have being able to once more share this moment with a friend made this moment even better. I’ve noticed that despite enjoying travelling alone, mostly for the liberty of having no compromise, sharing a souvenir feels better then telling a story.
By the time we climbed back down the 4,6 miles, it was late in the evening, so not able to head for the other trail we had in head, we decided to meet up with Gaetan at the Yosemite Falls. We enjoyed one last little hike, and headed back to San Francisco. I stayed one last night at Mik’s house and in the morning, I took a bus out of town, and headed back toward Yosemite, this time to cross the mountains and head toward route 395.
Highway 395
When I realised I was not going to make it through Yosemite due to the snow, I decided to use the Sonora Pass to connect with highway 395. I hitched all day, but eventually the day gave place to the night, and I had nowhere to sleep. For the first time of my trip, I decided to hitchhike during the night. I got slightly behind the light of the only light pole, to make sure the light wasn’t creating spooky shadows on my face, and got my thumb up. Hitchhiking seemed futile, but eventually, someone gave me a chance. When I entered the car, the light of the car light up and exposed the face of my driver. Being too close to the light, his face was covered by these spooky shades, but I didn’t want to wait, so I hopped in. The man had a lazy eye, knotty hair, a two days beard and a speech disorder, nothing to let me relax. I made sure to stay awake for the whole ride. When we got to Sonora, I climb out of the car and looked for a place to stay for the night. It was dark and the fairground was already used for something else, so I had to look for another place to camp. Eventually, I found a ditch covered by a thick forest. It sure wasn’t comfortable, but I had a place to sleep all night.
The next day, I tackled the Sonora Pass. The traffic was very low, but eventually, I saw my third car (about 45min) and it stopped. The driver was heading to Schulman Grove, one of my many targets for the 395. Before starting rolling, he told me he was going to stay at Sonora Pass for the night and only head down to the highway the next morning. Leaving me in the middle nowhere, I had me in a tight situation, but knowing he would be heading toward highway 395 on the next day meant that at worst, I would have a ride on the next day. But as we were riding through the mountains, he explained he was heading to Schulman Grove the next day. Knowing this was a particularly hard location to visit, I decided to hang around with him over night and head there on the next day. Being high in the mountain left lots of snow all over the ground. For the typical Canadian that I am, I couldn’t help but to through my tent in the snow weather than on the dirt; it wasn’t the warmest of night I must say.
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| Not the warmest night of the trip |
Not in a rush, we decided to take the time to explore the road before heading to Schulman Grove. We first stopped at Mono Lake, a salty lake with a few tuff towers (towers of salt) covering certain area of the lake. Not wanting to pay for the desert looking parking lot, we ended up with a ticket. Then, we headed toward Devil’s Postpile, a basalt column cliff, but the road was closed, so instead, we ended up visiting a nearby lake. And finally, we got to Schulman Grove. Before heading up the road, David told me he was going to camp there for two nights. I was welcome to hike with him, but if I chose to follow him, I needed to accept staying for two nights. There was no way I was going to say no, so we packed our back, left every useless thing in the car, and left. As usual, I wasn’t very well prepared, we were going to hike along a snow covered road for two days and all I had were holed shoes. We walked for about two hours and set up camp along the closed road. Still a few more warm Sun rays; I sat on a warm rock, and dried my sucks. Eventually, the warmth of the Sun (about 15°C) left place to the cold of the night. A mix of altitude, desert and winter brought the temperature down to -10°C the coldest I had to camp with. Every time I wanted to get pee during the night meant that I would need to exit the tent only in my underwear and barefoot on the frozen dirt and endure the cold wind sucking all my heat. As horrible as it was, the moment I would jump back into my still warm sleeping bag made it quite enjoyable. The next morning, I dressed up with my freezing cloths, but as I was trying to put my shoes back on, I realised they were fully frozen; I couldn’t even put my feet in them. I smashed them on the ground a few time, to break the ice, and managed to slide my feet in them. It took only 5min for my toes to freeze. The Sun still hadn’t warmed the air back so everything was cold. All I could do to help was to walk round and round to produce a bit of body heat, and to use the friction of my shoes to help warm my toes. It took me a full hour before the pain started disappearing. We walked around the area for the day, and slept another night in the height of the White Mountains. Once more, we enjoyed an amazing view of the Sierra Nevada, as the Sun was lowering behind them, and once more, we tackled a cold night in the negatives. Same night, with the same morning faith, but this time, I knew we were heading back to the car and have more heat to warm my toes again.
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| A 5000 years old Bristlecone Pine |
After another visit of Mono Lake, I raised my thumb once more and left toward the Alabama Hills. After having endured my frozen toes for two days, I decided it was time for me to buy new shoes. Unfortunately, as I was walking around the Alabama Hills, I started getting blisters; I needed a solution. At that moment, I remembered a trick Max gave me (the German guy hitchhiked with in Washington), he told me to fill my shoe with water and use them fully wet for a few hours. Once I found a creek, I dipped my shoe in the water and put them right on. It felt weird all day, but never again did they hurt.
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| The Modius Arch windowing Mt-Whitney |
After a few rides heading south, I stopped a McDonald to check my mails an saw an email from my sister telling me her and my brothers were going to pay me a plane ticket to come back home for Christmas to make a surprise to my mom. I didn’t really want to go back home for Christmas, scared of not being able to get back on the road after, but knowing my family hadn’t been whole in a few years and that my mom’s mom was sick, I decided to play along and do a surprise to my mom for the holiday, in roughly one month.
Death Valley
Death Valley, not necessarily the most pleasant name to hear when you’re hitchhiking and just to see the road leading to it made its name sound worst. Still, I knew it was worth going. That being said, it wasn’t to be easy. I tried to get a ride before dark, but the Sun forced me to stop for the night. I looked around the small intersection, and found an old boat container lying behind a near house. The door unlocked meant I had refuge for the night. As I started assembling my tent, I saw a police car stop in front of the container. I instantly hide behind one of the doors. Tripping in some old trash, I indirectly told them I was in. They took their flashlight out and enlightened the container. Scared of being busted, I squeezed myself as far in as I could. “FIEW, the light is now shut, let’s take a look. Ok, they are turning the corner”. I was now set for the night.
The next morning, I got back on the road, but I didn’t find much more luck than the night before. I waited and waited, but no cars were heading that way. I took my map out and started looking for an alternative road, but there was nothing. Eventually, I saw a car slowing down with its blinker pointing my way. I raised my thumb and smiled the best I could not to miss it, and it worked.
The guy was a Russian driving a convertible. He asked me if I was going to Death Valley. Obviously heading there, I got in. The man driving didn’t know much about the park, for me, this was an opportunity to visits the place I wanted to visit most. We passed through the Mesquite Sand Dunes, the Badwater Salt Flat, Artist Drive and Zabriskie Point.
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| Zabriskie Point |
Despite having seen the salt flat the day before, I decided to go for a walk on it. After a few minutes along the road, I was picked up by a couple, Dale and Gwen. They were also heading toward it, but first stopping at the Devil’s Golf Course and Natural Bridge. Once at the lowest point of the continent, I waved goodbye and started walking. I walked and walked, but it didn’t seem like I was moving. When I finally turned, I saw the mountains I had left from and saw how small they had become. This scale-less landscape made my walk back as no progresses were notable. To finish my day, I tackled once more the Artist Drive followed by an hour walk along the Gold Canyon to watch the sunset.
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| Badwater Salt Flat |
It was now day three in Death Valley, and I was now heading to the north part of the park. Being less popular, this end of the park had a lot less traffic, but all things come to an end, and I finally found an older guy willing to host onboard. He may have been old, but he was in pretty good shape. He was getting ready to tackle the Death Valley Marathon, and to warm up, he decided to bring me in Falls Canyon, followed by the Titus Canyon. Put together, these two canyons took all day. Not having had the opportunity to see the Ubahebe Crater, I once more oriented my thumb north and found a ride to Scott’s Castle. Having a few minutes before the beginning of our tour, the family I was riding with decided to follow my advice and explore this odd orange crater. As I walked back from the Harmony Borax Mine toward the camping, I saw Dale and Gwen. We talked for a little while and eventually, they invited me for supper.
After five days in this amazing park, I decided to tackle one last hike: the other entrance of the Golden Canyon, and this time all the way to Zabriskie Point. Carrying my 60lbs with me, I walked for a good 2h, climbing dunes and a few small dry waterfalls.
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| Gold Canyon |
As I mentioned earlier, when I entered, I thought reaching Death Valley was going to be a challenge, but it turned out that exiting was a whole lot harder. It took me almost all morning to find a ride to a near abandoned town, followed by another ride to a tiny town of 8 people. From there, it took me half of the afternoon before getting my ride back to main road.
Barstow Key
By the time I got to Barstow, it was nightfall, and I had no place to stay. I saw a Starbuck and decided to use their internet to look for cheap hostel nearby; unfortunately, none were close to my whereabouts. The guy working at the coffee, Nathan, eventually asked me what was I doing. I explained my situation, and eventually, he invites me to stay at his place, once the coffee closed.
As he was passing the mop, he asked me to wait outside for a few minutes. I sat in front of the shop and waited, but this picked a police car’s attention. They pulled over and started interrogating me on why a homeless looking hitchhiker is sitting in front of a coffee shop in the middle of the night. I explained the situation, but remained nervous as I thought the image projected to Nathan, graciously accepting a stranger in his house, wasn’t too nice. The police officers asked the station to run a background check on me, and just as Nathan got out to ask about the situation, the police told me I was free to go, conforming I wasn’t a bad person.
While we were heading back to his house, Nathan asked me why was I in Barstow. I told him about Rainbow Basin, a small park about 10km north of town. Never having heard about it and intrigued, he offered me to drive there with me on the next day, after church. I went to church with him and an hour later, we got to the basin.
The soil was green, but not due to the grass, but to the sediment of the ground, and towers of rock hatted by huge rock were decorating the canyon of clay. We enjoyed climbing the walls of the small canyon, and eventually got to the top. To go down, we took another canyon a bit west, much bigger than the first one. Still lowering ourselves down, we saw a huge bottomless hole. The first thing that came to my mind was how this hole came to be. Obviously, the water eroded the soil, but if there is a hole, there has to be a way out for that water. We both started looking around for that hole, and eventually found the entrance. Without any light, we entered and crossed the tunnel to the bottom of that huge sinkhole. It was beautiful!!
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| At the bottom of the bottomless hole |
After another night at Nathan’s house, I got a ride from his sister who was heading a few towns over. This was for me the opportunity to get out of the city without too much walking. I started heading toward the Devil’s Punchbowl and without much energy, I found not only a ride toward it, but even a place to stay for two nights, but a ride back and forth to Joshua Tree Natl Park. As I took my clothes off to clean them, I realised I had Nathan’s house key he had passed me the day before, so I could do a little shopping while he was working in the afternoon. In panic, I sent an email to both him and his sister to let them know I still had it. Since I needed to pass by Barstow to reach Las Vegas, I could pass by their house without too much of a detour.
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| Joshua Tree |
The next day, I hitched highway 15 again and got a ride to the entrance of town. My driver was going for a job interview, but was offering a ride to downtown afterward. I tried hitchhiking to speed things up, but another hitchhiker had the best spot in town. I waited for him to be picked up, but his temper made it an issue. At every passing car, he would throw a rock at it. To my pleasure, the cops eventually showed up and arrested him. Despite my best effort, I could get a ride, but at least my previous driver was to eventually pass.
The next day, I tried to leave town in the direction of Las Vegas, but very rapidly I saw it wasn’t going to be easy. Obviously, hitchhiking toward the Sin City isn’t too charismatic, but with the amount of competition while hitchhiking, this turned out to be simply annoying.
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