After a lovely slumber under our nylon roof, Carrie and I started the day eating the rest of the food in our possession: some oatmeal and a Snickers bar. Well, I got some of the Snickers. I ate my half and left the rest for Carrie in the wrapper on the picnic table. We left the Snickers at the table while we finished packing up the tent.
When Carrie returned to the picnic table the Snickers wrapper was still there but the hunk of pure energy was missing. A mystery was afoot. The game was on. Who stole Carrie’s Snickers?
We searched the picnic table for clues. There were no fingerprints on the wrapper but mine. Drat! Then Carrie noticed a piece of tree bark on the table. On the smooth underside of the bark someone scratched the following message:
Wen U wer pakin up I stol yer fud.
With heavy hearts we closed the case. Carrie would never be able to recover her Snickers from the evil Dick.
Lucky for us we had a short ride planned. From our campground south of McCloud we rode over one major hill to the eclectic town of Mt. Shasta, where the town’s namesake looms like the top of a vanilla ice cream cone in the eastern horizon.
We had lunch in front of the high school (go Loggers!) and then checked in to a motel. At least once a week it’s nice to have a real shower with real towels and to sleep in a real bed with real pillows.