Last night it looked like good cover. Now, first thing in the morning, people, lots of them, were crunching past, not more than a couple of feet from where he'd slept. Luckily, no one seemed to take any notice. Even so, like a shot, he jumped to his feet, grabbed the backpack, and scooted out of the bushes falling in with the first current that swept him along.
The night before, after being dropped at the campground, he'd searched the pitch blackness in vain with a AAA flashlight, unable to locate a vacant camping site. On both sides of the road for some distance into the woods it seemed, there were tents and campers and sleeping bags. And the signs were abundant warning of the consequences of not having a permit, but it was long past office hours at the ranger station, which was way back at the park entrance.
Too tired to be picky, he found a spot under a clump of bushes. It appeared private. That was important, because the fine for no permit was more than he had and there would be complications.
He'd been lucky his first night in. A new place and all that. Things had seemed to work out, mostly.
Now he just needed the washrooms … badly. The bushes were off limits. The woods here were mostly pine and cedar, not a lot of undergrowth, so you could see and be seen pretty far in. He figured there had to be facilities nearby regardless of which direction he was taken, because all these people … they had to be accommodated.
He was carried along in a sea of bright colors and cheerful talking and laughing, and the narrow swath of sky was clearing, fast moving white clouds making way for a clear blue sky.
It was already feeling warmer. He hadn't been cold overnight thanks to an extra layer, but now it was getting warm. Partly, it was the heat from all the bodies. They were so close and there were so many and they were all in motion. He wished he could slip out of the overlarge flannel shirt, but there was just no room to stop. There was only room ahead if he kept walking.
In a clearing with a heavy low-lying mist—from the river he heard someone say—he got his first view of the vertical walls of granite that bounded the narrow wooded valley where he and hundreds marched along the park trails. It would have been his first photo op, but the camera was in the pack and even if he could get to it he wasn't sure he'd know how to use it.
Eventually he saw the sign to the facilities, and he got out, and so did many others. After an hour and 15 minutes it was his turn.
He had to break out … to get away from all these people. He found a map that showed him trails he could follow to get to the top of the valley walls. There was no climbing gear in the pack, but he was all set for hiking, however far and high might be necessary.
Early on the cortege of hikers was thick and stayed that way until past the waterfall. The waterfall was the turnaround point for many. Lots of souvenir photos were taken there. He continued on, still in a line but a skinny one, no one to the left and no one to the right.
Hiking the narrow path was mostly safe even on the switchbacks. However, every now and then some guy—always a guy or guys—tried to squeeze by, never failing to take the inside track. It was bumper to bumper except when the shutterbugs stopped traffic while they scanned and focused on the perfect vista. Tempers were mostly held in check, even though everyone's vacation was slipping past. A Canadian's speedometer consistently gave readings of less than a kilometer an hour.
That was the beautiful trail to the top where it was no less crowded than the below. He was just in time to squeeze onto the last bus back to the lodge.
He hoped dusk would give him enough light to hitch a ride out of the park. Nature was more elusive than he'd imagined and people—they must all be crazy and so many of them. Besides if he came back on his own and after only one night, maybe they'd be lenient. He could hope, but it didn't matter, because he couldn't stay out … not without meds.
The night before, after being dropped at the campground, he'd searched the pitch blackness in vain with a AAA flashlight, unable to locate a vacant camping site. On both sides of the road for some distance into the woods it seemed, there were tents and campers and sleeping bags. And the signs were abundant warning of the consequences of not having a permit, but it was long past office hours at the ranger station, which was way back at the park entrance.
Too tired to be picky, he found a spot under a clump of bushes. It appeared private. That was important, because the fine for no permit was more than he had and there would be complications.
He'd been lucky his first night in. A new place and all that. Things had seemed to work out, mostly.
Now he just needed the washrooms … badly. The bushes were off limits. The woods here were mostly pine and cedar, not a lot of undergrowth, so you could see and be seen pretty far in. He figured there had to be facilities nearby regardless of which direction he was taken, because all these people … they had to be accommodated.
He was carried along in a sea of bright colors and cheerful talking and laughing, and the narrow swath of sky was clearing, fast moving white clouds making way for a clear blue sky.
It was already feeling warmer. He hadn't been cold overnight thanks to an extra layer, but now it was getting warm. Partly, it was the heat from all the bodies. They were so close and there were so many and they were all in motion. He wished he could slip out of the overlarge flannel shirt, but there was just no room to stop. There was only room ahead if he kept walking.
In a clearing with a heavy low-lying mist—from the river he heard someone say—he got his first view of the vertical walls of granite that bounded the narrow wooded valley where he and hundreds marched along the park trails. It would have been his first photo op, but the camera was in the pack and even if he could get to it he wasn't sure he'd know how to use it.
Eventually he saw the sign to the facilities, and he got out, and so did many others. After an hour and 15 minutes it was his turn.
He had to break out … to get away from all these people. He found a map that showed him trails he could follow to get to the top of the valley walls. There was no climbing gear in the pack, but he was all set for hiking, however far and high might be necessary.
Early on the cortege of hikers was thick and stayed that way until past the waterfall. The waterfall was the turnaround point for many. Lots of souvenir photos were taken there. He continued on, still in a line but a skinny one, no one to the left and no one to the right.
Hiking the narrow path was mostly safe even on the switchbacks. However, every now and then some guy—always a guy or guys—tried to squeeze by, never failing to take the inside track. It was bumper to bumper except when the shutterbugs stopped traffic while they scanned and focused on the perfect vista. Tempers were mostly held in check, even though everyone's vacation was slipping past. A Canadian's speedometer consistently gave readings of less than a kilometer an hour.
That was the beautiful trail to the top where it was no less crowded than the below. He was just in time to squeeze onto the last bus back to the lodge.
He hoped dusk would give him enough light to hitch a ride out of the park. Nature was more elusive than he'd imagined and people—they must all be crazy and so many of them. Besides if he came back on his own and after only one night, maybe they'd be lenient. He could hope, but it didn't matter, because he couldn't stay out … not without meds.
