I was so very tired when I woke at 6. A very late hour for me. I was mildly hungover, I drank on top of not being hydrated enough. I didn't like the feeling at all and regretted drinking. But, 4th of July right?
A Swainson's thrush was singing and a crow cawing. I got up to pee. My eyes were puffy and my body achy, I walked stiffly and with a bit of a limp. A deer stared curiously at me as I headed towards the bathrooms.
Today was all about coffee, resting and catching up on a few things. Mostly resting. I could feel the effect of the climb from yesterday and the whole week of walking. I shrugged it off.
I poked around camp a bit. I emptied my food bag and fashioned it into a purse for town. I realized I didn't have a small bag to haul things like a battery charger, wallet and cords into town. This worked perfectly.
As I walked into town I could feel it, my ankle was pissed. I was pissed at myself for not listening to my first instinct - not push it yesterday. On top of that, I had a hangover. I wasn't liking my choices very much right now.
Hangovers are weird for me as I get older. They bring on the typical physical annoyances, but they're very psychological now too. I am wracked with anxiety and fears that I'd done something terribly wrong, even though I remember everything from the night before and I know nothing was amiss. It's this crushing feeling of dread and doom that comes with it now. I hate it.
I find the coffee shop. I feel like an out of towner, because I am. I am barely acknowledged by the staff and I feel like I'm not doing something right. The bad coffee burns my mouth and my bagel is barely toasted. I get sesame seeds all over myself. I feel like I should be frustrated, but I'm not.
I tap at my phone for a good long while, catching up with life, checking in on work. Then it's 11, the burger hour. I agreed to meet John and Katelin for burgers today last night.
I order probably the best burger of my life. A chipotle bacon burger. It's messy and delicious. Dylan, the walker for charity shows up. We watch the depressing news intermittently and learn about Johns writing style and stories. The server gives us very bad service when we go to pay our check, but we all agree the food is good enough to come back. The waitress seemed severely out of it, I think the whole town of Manzanita is hung over. All sufficiently satiated, we part ways.
Afterwards, I wander to the library to use wifi and finish up some business. A piercing headache grips my brain and my whole body feels puffy and swollen. The lack of movement was making me achy and I felt rusty. I limp back to camp, oh my ankle is cranky. I notice a street named Beeswax, just like John had told us about the day before...
Then I am accosted by a huge orange tom cat! This makes me so happy. I miss my own orange cat, Tuckleberry Finn very much. He lets me pet him and I get belly scratches and playful swats. Oh silly kitties.
Manzanita is a neat little town. Definitely touristy, but seems to cater well to its local inhabitants as well. It's a nice place to rest up.
I buy a bag of ice from the park booth and lounge half way out of my tent with my foot resting on it. I avoid ibuprofen so I can monitor the severity of pain. I'm wondering how far I'll be able to make it.
I watch new cyclists arrive at camp, two ladies and a vegan fellow. He wastes no time, he reaches right for his stove the moment he's off his bike. From a distance of 50 feet I catch the flash of a green avocado. I imagine cyclists are able to carry better foods than a hiker... Suddenly I'm craving guacamole.
I make a pot of "fancy" ramen, with hemp seeds and crushed crackers added in. The kimchi by Nongshim is MSG free and really good. I wish I had packed the spicy seafood, all the oceanic smells made me crave seafoods and their favors. While I eat this I'm invited to join a fire started by my neighbor campers, two ladies who just started their ride to San Fransico. We exchange stories and warmth and food. I realize that I'm growing fond of the hiker biker community in the state parks as I work my way down the coast. All instantly bonded by our unconventional form of travel and often, life choices. I feel safe around these kind of people, and I wished sites like this were more frequent along this route.
I snuggle into my tent and sleeping bag. Looking over maps for my next stop, it appears tomorrow will be a long beachy day with a boat hitch and some more beach... Sleep takes me sooner than I thought possible.
The unforeseen expense of having to stay in a hotel for two days due to a stressed and injured ankle has me running low on funds for my trip. If you would like to support me, if you like my writing and would like to help support running this website, I gladly accept donations! Your support is very deeply appreciated.