So I picked up the real trail the next day and took it down to the creeks edge. By and by it led to a huge log that spanned the creek. I walked the log only to find it not connected to the other bank. I clambered over its roots and hopped ashore but the bank was steep with no path in sight. Frustrated at this conundrum I back trailed in search of an alternate route. I found one little diverging path that spilled out onto a rocky shore. It did not look promising. I looked across. On the opposite shore was a log pushed up againts the bank by the current. Oddly enough there were rails bolted to its side as though it were meant to be a bridge. I looked further up and sure enough there was another section of log with rails bolted on, this one was connected to a path. Judging from the clean edge someone had obviously cut it with a power tool, but why? Curiouser and curiouser. I had to wade across the creek which was treacherous for having a current and slippery rocks. I was kinda pissed. Who's maintaining these trails?
A little ways up I came across the main trail that indicated the exit was immanant. I was relieved, a few days without human contact was sweet bu I was tired, hungrey and sore. I made the trek to Merrymere falls which was all fascillitated and heavey with tourists. Nice waterfall. Tall. And then it was out.
I ended up hitching a ride back to Port Angeles from this rat bastard. He was racist (refered to Muslims as "towel heads"), sexist (said women are dumb because they consider children their primary concern when they should be looking after their husbands who make all the money, how old school is that?) and just plain belligerant. We did agree on a few things, weed is sweet, George Bush is dumb and religion is fucked up. Well I wasn't really gonna argue with him. Shit, he was doing me a favor. Back at Thor Town I passed out hard. I'm gonna lie low and then head to Portland tomarrow. I'm comin' for you Liz!
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