There was a layer of frost on the picnic table next to me when I awoke and I again grabbed everything and took it into the restroom to regroup. There was an outlet and I charged my phone one more time.
I had planned to stop at the small store in Cleone but realized now it would be a half mile detour and decided not to stop after all. I needed to get to Oregon before it got too cold.
There was a nice bike path out of Cleone, then beach, then a long bridge. There were places along the highway up ahead for tourists to stop, but no water. I had about fifteen miles between Cleone and Westport, the next town with a store, and some of those miles involved circuitous bluff trails and beaches. I had checked in with my parents in the morning, they were now reading each section of the guidebook to see what part of the trail I would be doing that day, and following my SPOT device's updates to monitor my progress. Their tickets for Oregon were booked and I was doing my best to get there in time.
The trail moved off the highway and onto a path just next to it, lined with blackberries. I ate some of the berries, grateful for the find, though didn't want to take too much time picking them.
A cyclist riding toward me on the highway slowed and I stopped to say hello and introduce myself. We got to talking about ultra distance events and he said he knew of one guy who did those. "Who is it?" I asked, maybe I knew him. The guy he knew was none other than Bob Hearn! This man, Wayne, was Bob and his wife Elizabeth's close friend, from San Francisco county! Elizabeth and Wayne were colleagues in geology research. Wayne had taken a weekend trip to Mendocino county. What a coincidence. I told Wayne of my dream to do the first segment of the Lost Coast in one fell swoop, without sleeping, to get it over with sooner, since it scared me. He said I better get on my way...
Eight or so miles later I arrived at the Westport Community Store. They had an outdoor outlet, wifi, a deli, and lots of snacks. I ate a vegan hummus wrap and fruit while trying to calculate how many miles I had until the aptly named town of Shelter Cove, so I could determine how much food I should buy and carry with me. It looked like about 55 miles. I grabbed a few bags of trail mix and some packets of nut butter, Swedish fish, and gummi bears. With a little work I was able to stuff everything in my pack.
A man on a trip to take photos of the coast was waiting for his friend to finish hiking, hanging out at the store. We talked about the hikes he had done, including the Florida Coast, despite having metal implants in his back. He used to work as a production assistant in Hollywood but said that he didn't like being told what to do. His dad -- who was still going to school in his 70s to avoid paying back his student loans -- had bought a marijuana farm, and he had left his job to help out. I asked him about the rumors of cartels in the area. The guy at the checkout counter had heard the rumors too. He told us that if we saw marijuana leaves we should head the other way, but that we shouldn't be too concerned.
I was also worried about food and water. Online guidebooks said water was plentiful on the Lost Coast, check. The clerk and his friend told me I could always eat wild berries if I had to (this turned out not to be the case -- there were hardly any wild berries along this segment of the trail, maybe I missed them or went too late in the season! I appreciated their enthusiasm and consolation anyway, it gave me the confidence to proceed. :) ).
I headed out, aiming to make it twenty more miles to Usal Campground that night. About a mile up the road I stopped at the camp store to try to buy one last extra set of batteries -- the store in Westport had only had a single triple A for sale. No luck, the store was closed for the night. I met a couple there who offered to let me camp with them, I told them I was already caffeinated and trying to make it to Usal. The woman looked horrified, "that doesn't seem healthy." The man asked me if I would be stopping at "the bridge," it took me a minute to realize what he was talking about -- the place where Cheryl Strayed chooses to end her hike in the book and movie "Wild." "No," I told him, my finish line was the Oregon border.
I stopped for some photos of the sunset and wondered if my friend had gotten the photos he had wanted. I began counting down the miles to civilization, only 45 to go!
Growing sleepy, I made it to Usal Road. I listened to Psycho-Cybernetics, the author spoke of his time wrestling for Dan Gable, my dad had also wrestled for Dan Gable at Iowa. The author explained why he admired Dan so much. When he was 15 Dan had been on a fishing trip with his parents, his sister was supposed to arrive the next day, but never made it. She had been killed in the family's home. Her death devastated the family and caused his parents to argue. Dan's parents had kept Dianne's room empty and considered moving out of the house. "Sensing that the family wasn't going to survive if the fighting continued, young Dan stepped up and made an announcement. 'I'm moving into Diane's room,' he said with his hands on his hips, elbows flared like Superman. Dan's move saved the Gable family."
There was hardly any traffic on the highway. Good for running but not so good for keeping creatures away. My headlamp illuminated a pair of eyes staring at me from a hill above the street. I clapped loudly a few times and the animal, which appeared to be a mountain lion, ran off. I began playing my music from the speaker of my phone and hoped it would scare off any animals ahead.
Finally, I made it to Usal Road. I kept my eyes out for the characters the police officer had mentioned. One car passed me while I hiked up the winding road. Near the end of Usal stood a trail sign with the CCT insignia, only a few more miles to the campground. The newly built trail was easy to follow in the dark and I happily jogged along it, my spirit uplifted after so many miles on the highway. I hadn't expected it, but my energy was renewed every time I had a forest or beach segment, as opposed to the highway. After a few miles I arrived at the campground. No water in sight. Near two other groups of campers I spotted a large tree and laid out my bivy under it.
Trail Notes
High tide near Dehaven beach, so took alternate route.
In the morning, after the long bridge, had to backtrack on two segments here. One segment looked like the trail went on the beach, I tried it but had to stop when I couldn't go any further -- only inlet of water and cliffs, trail was on the bluffs. Had to bushwhack following the trail up to the road on another segment, lots of animal trails.
Thankk you
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