Thanks a Vermillion: Getting There (09/21/07)

Backpackers as a whole are a lazy bunch. We know that in order to conserve calories we cannot spend a whole lot of time talking. Therefore, it is imperative that we abrreviate everything. The Pacific Crest Trail becomes the PCT. The John Muir Trail, the JMT. It was only natural then that the outpost to be found in the middle of the trail should be referred to as the VVR: The Vermillion Valley Resort.

Maybe spitting out multi-syllable words is a challenge because we are too busy putting down tasty dehydrated dinners. I know that I would eat Thai-Peanut Chicken, Lasagna, and Stroganoff (Just add two cups of boiling water!) everynight if I could. But dehydrated meals cost 8 bucks, and that's like, two extra value meals at Mickey Dee's! But joking aside, the VVR actually had a great buffet, comparable to anything I would find here in Vegas. Of course, maybe that's because I kept telling myself that each real meal I ate would be the last real meal I had for days.

In many ways that was true.

Trevor and I convinced a friend to take us to the VVR (Thanks Matt!!), which in and of itself was no easy task. The last real point of civillisation is Clovis, CA, and from there it is a 60+ mile drive on treacherous one lane roads surrounded by steep cliffs. Resort is not the right word. Heck, I'm not even sure if Outpost is the right word. I offered to buy Matt a couple of beers for his trouble, but he wanted to turn around and get back before the sun went down. Somehow he knew that he would be driving over the cliff if it was dark--something I don't think he would have a big problem with if it wasn't a company owned vehicle that he was driving...

Did I mention that we didn't tell Matt that we needed a ride to the VVR until we reached Clovis? In actuality we had only secured his services until that point. I'm not sure how he ended up driving us the rest of the way, and I'm actually surprised that he didn't throw us out when Trevor mentioned that we would have to stop to pick up our permits half way to the resort.

Thanks again, Matt!

When we arrived at the VVR there were no masseuses to be found, no hot rocks, no steam baths or pedicures. Just a campground, a store, and a small "restauraunt". Dogs roamed. Backpackers with 14 day old beards. Everyone was checking each other out, but noone was really talking. It was like a scene from the Cantina in Star Wars.

To be continued...