The Andersons

May 30: Just 24 miles up the trail from the Saufleys, there's another hiker hangout known as Casa de Luna, where the Andersons live. From the scuttlebutt I've heard on the trail, this is more of a "party place" than the Saufleys. I'm not really into the party scene, but I've heard so much about the place, I wanted to see it for myself. It's part of the trail experience, so I planned to experience it.

I only had about ten miles to get to the road for the Andersons, so I wasn't in any particular rush to get moving. I still managed to start early enough to catch up with Karma, Detective Bubbles, Tradja, and Jess at the oasis. Karma, I don't think I've mentioned him before, but I first met him during my 2003 Appalachian Trail hike. We hadn't talked much on that trail, but it's always fun to see a familiar face from a long ago trail. Detective Bubbles is his wife, recently married, and instead of a honeymoon, decided to thru-hike the PCT together instead.

Calling the oasis a water cache would be something of an understatement. It did contain water, but it also held an ice chest full of cold sodas and beers. The grove had chairs set up for hikers to rest their weary feet, and decorations of skeletons, palm trees, pink flamingos, and even a Pooh bear decorated the area and gave it class. It was a pleasant little stop, and gave me time to chat with Karma and Detective Bubbles which I hadn't done much before then.

Then we continued on. I reached San Francisquito Road at the same time as Karma and Detective Bubbles, and we started down the road to the Andersons. It's about a mile off the trail, as we understood the directions, but we didn't have to hike for long before a pickup truck stopped and gave us a ride the rest of the way.

He dropped us off at a location that looked, to be perfectly honest, inhabited by rednecks. Couches rested on the front lawn, trash cans filled with empty beer cans littered the place, and walking around barefoot seemed like a dangerous proposition. Terri Anderson came out, giving the three of us a hug and wishing us a hearty welcome to Casa de Luna.

We got a tour of the facility, although I forget the fellow's name. He warned us to not "fraternize" with the other hikers until the tour was over, and to keep our hands and feet inside at all times. He took us behind the house, where we set down our packs, and led us through the house that looked like a bomb went off. Bodies could be found laying around in the heaps of junk--napping hikers, I hoped--and led us through a manzanita grove behind the house where hikers could set up camp.

A board leaning against a tree, we were told, was used to throw knives at the day before. I wondered if that was a good idea--I saw some evidence that hikers had set up camp behind it.

The tour over, we sat down on the lawn furniture in front of the house and chatted. Terri cooked hot dogs for everyone for lunch. They were charred, but a nothing that a healthy dose of ketchup and mustard couldn't cover up. I ate three of them. =)

Terri noted that it was the hottest day so far of the year, about 85 degrees in the shade.

It was a nice, quite conversation, but that ended when "the boys" arrived. Terri had warned us that "the boys" were quite excitable and loud, and the quiet would be gone when they got back from playing their Frisbee golf game. She was absolutely right. Much shouting, grunting, and cheering ensued. Photos were taken, beers were opened, and a gas mask for smoking pot came out. One hiker's watch alarm went off. It was set for 4:20, to make sure he didn't miss his "daily hit," I suppose.

I went inside and tried to find something to watch on television, finally settling on Kill Bill, Volume 1. Occasionally a hiker would pass through and complement me on my selection. (This never happened when I started Best In Show at the Saufleys. Hmm.....) But then several hikers wanted to watch some videos taken the year before of hikers wrestling in oil, so I went on the Internet and did a little work instead.

Most of the night, I hung out on the back porch, chatting with the more quiet people on the trail (and probably a little more sane and a lot less stoned), including Karma, Detective Bubbles, Tradja, and Jess.

The joke is that the Saufleys have a two night maximum that hikers are allowed to stay. The Andersons have a two night minimum. 

Eventually I headed off to sleep, kind of regretting to spend the entire night there. The Andersons are very nice people, but the "scene" was exactly as promised, and it really wasn't my kind of place. I'm a quieter and mellower kind of fellow.

The strange dreams continued. I dreamed that I got a job at a pizza place in the Seattle Center by the Space Needle, with two sister who owned the pizza joint but didn't have a clue what they were doing. They couldn't even agree on how many slices to cut a large pizza into. They needed help. Badly, and for some bizarre reason, I volunteered to help them get on their feet.

Then, just as I got off work, a small Canadian plane crashed into some trees outside. I'm not sure how I knew the plane came from Canada, and I don't know why it crashed or who was in it, because at that point, I woke up when the rowdy group in the front of the house cheered loudly about something. I bet the neighbors around here hate the Andersons. I don't know that that's a fact, but it would seem hard to believe they didn't. People do like to sleep at night, after all. =)