When we stayed with our Lions Club hosts in Sacramento we had the opportunity to take showers. As Cindy went to take hers I hung out in the kitchen to work on a blog entry. No one else was around, which was fortunate when Cindy came running out of the bathroom in a panic, only partially covered by a towel. She needed my assistance to turn on the shower.
The shower was not complicated, basically you pull and turn the faucet. The situation stymied and panicked Cindy nonetheless because of her cognitive decline. Cindy was doing well physically, but small events such as the shower left no doubt of her affliction.
Our route east from Sacramento first followed the American River bike path. During this section we stayed in the evening at the home of Roger and Barbara. Roger originally was from Norfolk, though of a different generation. Another Norfolk native and mutual friend used the Internet to connect the two of us from afar for our stopover.
Ky transported us to our hosts as well as to REI for purchasing a tent. We had been using a tarp up until this point, but the continuing rain and cool temperatures in the lowlands meant snow up in the Sierra Nevada mountains. Why we did not bring or use one of the tents we already owned I cannot say in hindsight.
Setting up our new tent in our host’s yard proved to be an impossible task for Cindy. We used to do this together, but that was not to be. I showed her how to put a tent peg in one corner to anchor the tent, but she was unable to repeat this in subsequent corners. I ended up assembling the tent by myself.
As we hiked along the north shore of Folsom Lake we were stopped by a mild-mannered yet jovial man, out for a day hike with his wife and a friend. As we approached each other from opposite directions he pointed to our packs and said: “Looks like you are hiking a long ways.”
We all introduced ourselves and chatted. I told him just how long we were hiking. Carlos responded that he and his wife Mariana once hiked a long ways as well, during the 1986 peace march across the country. An instant bond formed that continues to this day.
Carlos invited us to stay with him that evening, which we were able to do. In hindsight I do not recall why we were full packing that stretch, yet still managed to meet Ky at the end of the day.for transport. I do remember I was not going to miss out on an opportunity to learn about someone who not only went on the 1986 peace march, but also organized the following year’s peace march that occurred in the Soviet Union. He also kayaked along the Central American coast for peace.
After Folsom Lake we ascended steadily towards the town of Foresthills and the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. We could see the mountain range blanketed in white as we neared. A trail crew we passed warned us that the minimum depth of snowpack crossing the range was fifteen feet. The ranger station in Foresthills confirmed that on June 14th the snowpack on the trails over the Sierra Nevada ranged from 15 – 40 feet.
Evidently we had some problem solving to do.
