The morning was cool and everything was dripping wet but no rain, after a couple of miles I came to a concrete bridge with a lot of water slowly flowing underneath and it was full of swallow nests some only 16” from the water. The little swallows were flying everywhere, cute little puffy ones; they seemed fatter than most swallows I have seen. I rested there for a while and enjoyed their presence. All other bird life seems to be hunkering down, after the storm.
When I got to the black top hiway I met some county road workers. I talked with them a little bit; some of them knew me and all of them I talked to were from TroutLake or BZ Corners. They were clearing out the sides of the road. I told them I was scouting a route for my horse and cart and I was going to bring my horse and cart back this way and the woman from TroutLake , Tyane Parker, wished me luck on both ventures. I asked if she had any ideas what I could use for my sore feet and she suggested the fuzzy leaf mullein!
I was wearing these “tennis shoes” that were called air Jordan’s that I bought at the Trout Lake Annual rummage sale for about 3 dollars and they were starting to hurt my feet. I started putting mullin leaves in the bottoms of my shoes and kept on going.
I took an old road that I saw on goggle earth just before Fisher Hill Road and it was a good short cut. When I got up to Fisher Hill Road I saw it had been paved since the last time I had been on it. I couldn’t believe it was paved considering how much it is used! Anyway, I took a rest there, right at the top; where there is a little meadow and good view of the Mountain.
I kept walking and now this was the 5th of June. Maybe a car or pickup every hour or so went by. I passed some water on my left and a gated road but kept going. And then Wow, there was a beautiful old home stead with no buildings, so I went in there and found a camp site, well off the road. There was a shallow lake bed with pleanty of water in it. A really beautiful place, an old corral, some big trees and aspen groves.
Whether a lack of funding, or the good nature of the homesteaders; the place still held the reflection of an appreciation of the land and what it had and had not to offer.
I found a safe place to build a fire and I found a large old pine knot that was so full of pitch that it probably would not rot in a hundred years. It burned most of the night.
It is so comforting to have a fire all ready to start up easily, on a cold morning!
After fixing my breakfast and applying mullein leaves to my feet with fresh pitch as a kind of medicinal glue. I walked on and realized I was not far from the Whakiakus Heights Road. The sign said nine and a half miles to Whakiakus.
I walked down that road thinking it would be a good road for a bare foot horse and tried to observe where there might be feed and water for Taboona. I walked until I got to the edge of the breaks of the KlickitatRiver. As I went along, there were more and more houses so the next best opportunity to get away from the road and camp where I was not in someone’s back yard, I took it. It was a dry camp. No water, so I built a very small fire to cook my evening meal and then put it out and made sure it was dead before I took off in the morning.
I text my son Reed and asked if he could meet me at the River and resupply me, as I knew I would not have service down in the canyon.