I left the home of where I’d spent the past evening at about 9am. A quick stop for noodles, then walking till I caught a short ride across the border into Brookings. And thus ended the majority of my riding.
I spent nearly an hour on the road, alternating between flying my sign and eating from the blackberry bushes alongside my spot. After an hour or so, I punched holes in my sign, cut one of my animal balloons in half, and took off with my sign now prominently attached to the backside of my pack (updated from reading ‘NORTH’ to ‘ALASKA: Day 3’). I walked till I found a cut off to the beach, then decided I needed a break. I’d had less than an hour’s sleep the night before, due to a long lasting conversation with the previous evening’s host. As soon as I found sand, I took off my pack, sketched for a few minutes, then laid down on the ground and crashed out for an hour’s worth of power-napping.
After a few more minutes of blackberry picking, I started down the road, stopping at any place with a significant shoulder, until I came to a warning sign that said ‘SLIDES.’ For some reason, I didn’t feel like walking on that particular stretch was likely to be safe. I stood at the top for an hour or so, with the occasional car passing me by. I pulled out a copy of the Funny Times T----- had given me yesterday, and alternated reading with thumbing, a very pleasant way to pass the gaps until cars showed up on the horizon. Not much luck, though. I eventually flagged down a guy who motioned that he was only going a short distance, making it clear that, by this point, I just wanted to get past the next mile of slim shoulders, and didn’t really care if that’s as far as he could take me.
Getting dropped off at a small restaurant/resort down the road was perfect, as I was able to fill up my by-then-empty water bottle. Much easier than knocking on the doors of scattered houses, or boiling water from creeks. By this point I’d realized that I wasn’t going to get a house to sleep in this evening. It was time for my first night of stealth camping.
What is stealth camping? It’s the art of camping where you don’t have permission, be it on public or private land. To be honest, it’s not something I really enjoy doing (due to the questionable legality), but if the option is set up a camp in an unused space, based on leave-no-trace principles, or wander around on the road at night, it’s not a very difficult decision. My hope today had been to get another 25 miles or so, where I could have beach camped legally in accordance with Oregon state law, or into a town where I could CouchSurf. The best laid plans….
I found a stretch of road that was wide enough for cars to stop just as the sun was setting (I wanted to leave as early as possible in the morning), then hid my backpack and wandered down the hillside till I found an appropriate place to camp: outside of view of the road and on a bare enough patch to disturb the minimum amount of vegetation. That it provided an absolutely incredible view of a nearby inlet was a perk. After being treated to a beautiful sunset, I pitched my tent in the dark and went to sleep.
Trip Stats:
Total Time: 8 hours
# of Rides: 2
Total Cost: $12.00
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