OMD Travelogue – Day 13

[x_section style=”margin: 0px 0px 0px 0px; padding: 45px 0px 45px 0px; “][x_row inner_container=”true” marginless_columns=”false” bg_color=”” style=”margin: 0px auto 0px auto; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_column bg_color=”” type=”1/2″ style=”padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_counter num_start=”0″ num_end=”240″ num_speed=”1500″ num_prefix=”” num_suffix=”” num_color=”#2ecc71″ text_above=”Rode for” text_below=”Minutes” text_color=””][x_gap size=”45px” class=”x-hide-xl x-hide-lg x-hide-md “][/x_column][x_column bg_color=”” type=”1/2″ style=”padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_counter num_start=”0″ num_end=”163″ num_speed=”1500″ num_prefix=”” num_suffix=”” num_color=”#3498db” text_above=”Covered” text_below=”Miles” text_color=””][/x_column][/x_row][/x_section][x_section style=”margin: 0px 0px 0px 0px; padding: 45px 0px 45px 0px; “][x_row inner_container=”true” marginless_columns=”false” bg_color=”” style=”margin: 0px auto 0px auto; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_column bg_color=”” type=”1/1″ style=”padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_text]The mid-day sun beats down on us as we make our way North.

Seeing the sign for Ross Lake we turn off the highway. Grateful for shade, I pull out the food bag and we settle into the dirt to enjoy lunch.

Once upon a time I was rather strict about Baylor getting any people food, but, well, life is short and on the road it’s more fun to share with him. So, Baylor gets both ends of a carrot and if I’m dipping in peanut butter he gets some, too, he slurps up the juice from the can of tuna and get’s at least one bite of every rice cake. Thems the rules.

Lunch complete, we walk to the lake. “Danger is my middle name,” the battle cry as I dive into the cloudy water without even waiting the recommended 30 minutes.

Properly cooled off we carry on, arriving in Hazelton by late afternoon. At the recommendation of a fellow rider I grab a map at the visitor’s center, pose for a quick picture and make the slight detour to visit the centuries old totem poles. I don’t know the deeper meaning of the carvings, but they stand tall – stunning works of art, now surrounded by a growing neighborhood.

Since the sun hardly sets here, we continue on in search of free forestry camping. A while later I turn down a dirt road, bumping along until we reach the deserted lakeshore.

Setting up camp, I’m rather pleased to have this spot all to myself. And then I begin to think of all the bear stories I’ve heard. Suddenly every sounds makes me jump. I clip the bear spray onto my belt loop, grab the food bag, and wander about looking for a tree. Finding one that looks suitable, I begin trying to toss the carabiner and line over. My aim getting worse with each attempt, I wonder if I should have watched a video or something about how to hang your food in a tree. Eventually I succeed and haul the food up. It’s not as high as I imagined, but I hope it will do the job.

Zipped into the tent, I notice how filled with sound the forest really is. Each leaf rustling, branch breaking causes me to jump. I hear noises that seem to be coming from the direction of the food tree. I strain my eyes, but it’s too dark to tell if anything is there. And what would I do if I did see a bear? Try to scare it away? Hope it just eats the food and goes away? Having never actually done this before, I’m not really sure.

Eventually I fall asleep, wondering what I’ll find in the morning.

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