Day 16

Delighted at the prospect of starting my day with food and an orange pop, I wake excitedly and empty my sleeping bag cover of its store of goodies. Ummmh. It occurs to me that chicken sandwiches make almost as good breakfast as they do dinner. The sun seems to be lazing about just over the southern dike, and the idea of crawling back into my bag and doing the same is quite tempting. But just as I'm contemplating the thought, another of BNSF's clamorous trains rumbles through causing such a cacophony among the surrounding wildlife that I put the notion out of mind. I light up my little Colman stove in order to intermittently warm my hands between the stages of disassembling the tent. Brrrrh. The temperature is dropping, noticeably so, with crystals of ice lining the edges and fly.

It's a matter of 20 minutes and the soles of my shoes are again treading the shoulder of Hw 14, something I'm confident they're accustomed to by now. I, however, am growing progressively weary of the monotone in the topographical features I've been seeing. For two days I've been beset by the insipid yellow hills and their inability to evoke much emotion. I miss the verdant forests and singing steams of the Cascades.

In Roosevelt I quickly charge my electrical devices at the general store. I'm elated to find a message from the friendly couriers who'd ferried me across to the Dalls inviting me to stay a night (Seriously, Chase and Katie, it would be an extreme pleasure to meet up with you both again) but sadly I must decline as a sense of urgency presses me to put up some decent numbers for the day.

Around the fifteenth mile an unusually good spot appears off to the right, problem is there's a 'No Trespassing' sign posted. So, effectively, I present my quandary to my creator:

'You know', I say, 'it's doubtful that I'll come across another place quite this open yet secluded from the sight of traffic. I'm not keen to infringe upon the property rights of BNSF, but come on! Are they gonna claim every good access point to the water?'

Now in my limited experience, God's not necessarily the longest-winded of conversationalists, but He does have a making a pretty succinct point. In this case, the words 'No Trespassing' just seem to embed themselves in my retinae and occlude me from taking that first step across the boundary.

In any case, what happens next is really cool, irrespective of one's spiritual paradigm. I continue on up the hill, and at signpost 146 there appear tracks off through the tall grass and sage brush. I follow them and they take me over a hill and onto a pristine plateau which not only provides total anonymity but also gives an optimal view of Lake Umatilla. This is yet another example, solidifying for me, that when you make the right choices, although not the easiest or most convenient, the results tend to be immensely rewarding. After boiling some drinking water, I take a good long time to bask in the beauty of these surroundings. A welcome satiety fills my soul as I watch the sun cast a kaleidoscope of colours over the valley below.