Crater Lake To Stanley, Day 0 : Discomfort

It is evening at my first campsite, about half a mile back from the rim of Crater Lake. Dad has wished me good luck and left to drive home. I’ve constructed my tent and placed all my gear in the bear box. The bike is leaning on its kickstand, chained to one metal leg of the box.

I’m sitting on top of the picnic table, looking at my iPhone, which is displaying “No signal”.

“This is it,” I think. “I’m really on my own, now. The only way out of this campground is on that bicycle; and from there it’s 600 more miles to get where I’m planning to go. … I sure hope this works.”

I think the weather is mocking me, because it began to rain just as I was setting up my tent, and now that the tent is constructed and thoroughly wet, the rain has tapered off.

Evening turns to night quite suddenly. I am dead-tired, even though it is only 9:00pm. I crawl into my damp tent, jam in some earplugs, and have nine hours’ worth of strange dreams.

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