After an early start, we leave both the other hikers and the slightly sad mood from the previous day behind. Today, something fun is planned: hot springs! The Deep Creek hot springs are natural hot springs only reachable on foot and are a staple stop for pct hikers who want to relax their stiff and aching muscles. The path there winds along Deep Creek itself, a green vein in the otherwise dry desert. We arrive at noon. Laura is there already and she received her trail name: Solemate. This after she messed up the insoles of her shoes by washing them. Coyote and I don’t waste any time and jump in. The water is scalding hot, but feels great. I let myself soak and wash off the caked dirt on my legs. The others with us seem to be a close community of varying age. They give off a very hippy vibe. An older man is telling a story of how he’d ride a bus with a dedicated weed smoking area in the back. Another is talking about his naked outdoors yoga routine. The last is a girl with dreads and a horrible laugh. I wanted to take a photo of the springs, but the omni present nudity would endanger the family friendliness of this journal.
Calves arrived shortly after we got out. ‘You got here fast’, I remark.
‘I told you I’d be here at 3, didn’t I? And here I am, no sweat’, he looks me intensely in the eye.
‘Yup’, I reply. The rest of our conversation consists of more of such enrichening exchanges. I like him less by the day.
We decide not to camp there and instead continue on to the highway, where we read on FarOut, there is an inn close by, of which the owner comes pick you up if you want. I call them and shortly after, our driver arrives. His name is Alan and he keeps taking in abandoned kittens, up until the point that he has 18 now. He always has the intention of giving them away he says, but he gets attached to them.
He takes us to a taco truck where we can buy warm food, which we take with us to eat at the inn.
The inn is actually a bar, the type of remote american bar you usually see in movies. The patrons, whom you also usually see in movies, all turn their heads at the newcomers who obviously dont belong there. As we eat our (delicious) tacos, they come to talk to us about the trail, telling stories of their own. As I’m still hungry, I order a pizza, together with a sandwich for coyote.
The evening goes on and some people leave the bar, stupid drunk, driving home in their car. We get more involved in the conversation with the others. They are very friendly and amicable towards us, but they do have some questionable opinions. Covid is a ploy to take away their guns for instance.
‘Hey Dave, would you die to defend the constitution?’ Ruben asks.
‘Fuck yeah!’ Dave replies. Just as I plan to go to sleep, James, a man with ‘guns in every room of his house’ offers me another beer. I accept and Coyote, as he regularly does, starts talking about Cinnabon, a kind of cinnamon roll that is supposedly much better than normal ones.
‘There’s cinnabon at the truck stop’ Ruben says.
‘Should we go there?’ James asks.
The two decide to get their truck and drive us to the cinnabon at night. They return as the bar is about to close, in a gigantic white Dodge Ram. America all right. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a car this size.
‘Wish we had Trump back’, Ruben muses, ‘Trump loved America more. And Putin would never have invaded.’
We arrive at the truck stop and get 4 cinnabon. It is indeed much better than cinnamon roll. After the pizza and the tacos I feel like I’m about to explode.
‘Have you guys ever been to Walmart?’ James asks.
A short drive later we’re in the gigantic store that is Walmart. Row upon row of stuff, literally something in every category. We browse a bit and then return.
Ruben ends the night with a zinger: ‘Democrats allow children to get confused.’ I never find out if he’s talking about homosexuality or transgenders.
I’ve mixed feelings on this night. On one hand the people at the bar had some controversial opinions, to put it lightly. On the other, they were so kind and welcoming towards us, a lot more than in any european bar. James and Ruben also took the effort to show us around in their car, even though they had to get up early in the morning, while James even paid for our drinks, cinnabon and gave us beef jerky sticks. Nothing is black and white I guess.