Day 106: Hippies, Heat, and Hikers

Girl One: Have you seen any fairies out here? I am trying to catch some.
Girl Two: I haven’t seen any fairies, but I have caught some dragons.

Girl One: Oh my god! I want to learn to catch dragons. What kind were they?

Girl Two: Oh they were purple.

Girl One: Awwww.

Girl Two: Yeah, purple has been really resonating strongly with me. I was thinking of changing my name to [insert indecipherable Hebrew name here] because I’m more of a dark goddess. 


Mount Shasta is the kind of place where Boomerang could overhear that conversation in the woods. Mount Shasta is the kind of place where so many people are filthy with backpacks on, I have a hard time distinguishing hiker trash from normies. Mount Shasta is my kind of town.

I woke up super early and skipped down a massive hill toward the sounds of trains that rocked me to sleep last night. I laughed out loud to podcasts and made it to the road and then to Shasta in record time.

I met Boomerang and immediately went to a coffee shop. They gave me lots of veggies in my breakfast burrito and lots of fat in my cookie (the size of my head). I nommed as we called around to find the cheapest motel. We found a bed and breakfast.

Built in the pioneer days, the house was a work of art: delicious antiques, old photos, a room of our own. It even had a modern twist: a massage chair. I showered and then sat in the chair forever. It was perfect.

Then B and I ate and ate and ate and sat on the porch (!) and petted wandering cats. We were in heaven!