Sunday, September 30, 2012


September 23

Lake Tahoe is used to playing second fiddle.  It is the deepest lake in the United States - except for Crater Lake.  It is the largest alping lake in the entire world - except for Lake Titicaca (I'll give you a few moments to repeat the word aloud Beavis).  On the ADT, however, there is no rival in diameter.  This liquid obstacle would not be navigated around quickly.
I continued on the circular corridor of the Tahoe Rim Trail, moving counterclockwise.  The TRT runs one hundred and twenty miles among the heights overlooking the Lake.  Constructed in 1984, this rimjob appeals to both hikers and mountain bikers alike, although the pedalphiles are restricted to certain dates and places. 
I hurried through Tahoe Meadows, past Mount Rose, and up to Relay Peak, the highest point on the TRT.  Lollygagging was out, I wanted to make the California border and also I was low on food.  Rose's Knob and Baldy Mountain fell like dominoes that I had stepped on, bringing Stateline Point into view. 
I was unsure if there would be a sign and in the usual sense of the word there was not.  Someone with a GPS and too much time on their hands a creative solution.  Using pine cones they drew a line and then wrote the word California on the proper side.

Soon thereafter I met my first natives, Harris and Susan.  The couple, who have a second home at Tahoe, were out walking their dog.  They asked a number of questions about the hike, then somehow the dialogue turned to politics, a taboo subject for me.
As a representative of the Wounded Warrior Project, even one they can deny the existence of,  I am required not to push a political agenda.  They are a non-profit, non-political organization and discourage partisan tomfoolery amongst their agents and employees.  I managed to carefully express my opinions, whatever they may be, while delicately avoiding statements such as "Obama is a secret Muslim devil" or "Romney is a Mormon bent on the destruction of the good church of Scientology and all they stand for."
Neither my border crossing or idle chatter had increased the meager rations in my pack.  I called Ted for advice.  He suggested stopping at Highway 267 and hitchhiking to a grocery store at King's Beach.   Armed with this knowledge an idea of my own formed.  I ceased for the day within earshot of the road, ready to put my plan into action come the morn. 

20 miles/3797 total miles

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