Vagabond Scrapbook

a diary of wanderlust from the Pacific Crest Trail
While loading my pack this morning, I came across a gift I had been given to carry to Canada, 80 miles ago under a tent in the desert among the wind farms  near I-10 at Ziggy and Bear’s. I was their 200th hiker this year, and it was a special day that they wanted to celebrate. They treated us to hot Epsom salt foot baths, hotdogs, ice cream and cake; and then as night fell, the merry hikers were silenced for a special commemoration. Ron, a double triple crowner, who I later learned was the owner of this place, held two bricks, taped together into a cube. He said he’s building a hiker hangout in Canada, brick by brick, carried by special hikers. As number 200, it was my job to carry two bricks the rest of the way with me. He was joking of course, but said that there WAS something that he DID want me to carry the remaining 2450 miles. He cut the bricks apart, and there, sandwiched inside, was a Canadian $20 bill. He handed me the money and wished me luck on the rest of my journey. I promised I’d write them and tell them what I spent it on when I reached British Columbia in the fall.

While loading my pack this morning, I came across a gift I had been given to carry to Canada, 80 miles ago under a tent in the desert among the wind farms near I-10 at Ziggy and Bear’s. I was their 200th hiker this year, and it was a special day that they wanted to celebrate. They treated us to hot Epsom salt foot baths, hotdogs, ice cream and cake; and then as night fell, the merry hikers were silenced for a special commemoration. Ron, a double triple crowner, who I later learned was the owner of this place, held two bricks, taped together into a cube. He said he’s building a hiker hangout in Canada, brick by brick, carried by special hikers. As number 200, it was my job to carry two bricks the rest of the way with me. He was joking of course, but said that there WAS something that he DID want me to carry the remaining 2450 miles. He cut the bricks apart, and there, sandwiched inside, was a Canadian $20 bill. He handed me the money and wished me luck on the rest of my journey. I promised I’d write them and tell them what I spent it on when I reached British Columbia in the fall.

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