Northern California.

Well, I survived the High Sierra.  All the snow, the falling down, the river crossings, the dizzying mountain passes... It's all done.  After about 300 miles of solid snow, we finally emerged out of the arctic tundra that was the Sierra this year.  For a few hundred miles more the snow showed up regularly to hide the trail for a turn or two, but it dwindled and dwindled until now: Northern California.  The trails are gentle and rolling, cutting a path through dense forests and quiet brooks.  Life is good on the trail.

After the big snow, we hit the big rivers.  The first, and what we thought was going to be the deepest, was chest deep.  I had my already fragile mp3 player in my hip belt--now the 2nd disc of Ryan Adam's Cold Roses album is all it will play.  The next river crossing, and what we're hoping will be the deepest, was Stubblefield Creek.  I went first, stepping slowly through the water as it got deeper and deeper.  About half way out, I was just bouncing on my tippy toes in the current, losing ground and going down stream.  Next, Andrew almost got swept away.  This convinced Smokey the Beard, Zorro, and Digger to cinch down their packs and swim across.  Things are getting ridiculous when people are swimming across snow-banked rivers. 

We watched Spain take the World Cup--catching games in Mammoth, South Tahoe, Tahoe City, Sierra City, and then Belden.  Our friend Zorro, who is from Spain, was the happiest man I've ever seen.  I hope I can summon up half of the joy for the birth of my first child as he did for his country's first World Cup.

Currently we are in Old Station, CA just passed the half way marker (mile 1325) where we did the Half-Gallon Challenge.  There are about 1300 miles to go until we show up at that Canadian Border with our mountain beards and hiker stench.  Aaaaah, we'll be there in about 5 weeks.  Time to do some big miles and wrap this baby up!

Hope everyone at home is doing well--

Clay