Mile 1161 to 1153
I wake in the loft of the Peter Grub Hut, pack up and struggle to get down the ladder with my pack on. My shoes have dried nicely by the fire, but my socks are now so stiff I cannot put them on. I pull out another pair. I chomp down a couple of donuts and walk out the door.
We hike 7 miles over a couple of small passes. The north sides have stretches of wet snow, but nothing bad. Breakfast is more on my mind than snow. Soon we can see Donner Lake, and are about as hungry as the Donner Party. The trail drops us into the parking lot of Sugar Bowl ski resort. Ironically, our trail on the Sierras is covered in snow, but the ski slopes here look as dry as the desert.
It takes about 20 minutes to get a hitch. There are tons of cyclists who offer rides on their handle bars, but very few cars. Eventually we get a ride from a young couple. The young man went to Foothill High School in Pleasanton, where my three sons graduated. It is such a small world. They drop us in the old part of town at the Wagon Train Cafe. I destroy the pancakes, sausage and eggs. I drink more coffee than I probably paid for, but it was good and we were in no hurry.
The waitress falls under the trail magic spell. She calls her friend at Hampton Inn, gets us a great rate and takes off work to drive us to the hotel. The entire way she apologizes for not having her larger vehicle. We are gracious enough to forgive her. The hotel is great, but a little further from downtown then we would have selected.
While trying to figure out how to get our shopping errands done, I get a text from Sherrie Gilliam saying she and Chuck are in Truckee and do we need anything. They strap on their angel wings and fly us all around town. At the sporting goods store I get gaiters and extra socks for the coming Sierras. At the hardware store I get fuel for my stove. At the grocery store I get three days worth of food. We finish up at a Mexican restaurant, where I tackle a plate of carnitas. Our angels return us to the hotel and fly away. It was so great to see them. I am again thankful for my SPOT beacon and Chuck’s fascination with the moving dot, for it brought them both to us.