[pct-l] Au Revoir Pink Motel

[StoneDancer1 at aol.com (StoneDancer1@aol.com)]

Because I left Lake Morena at noon on Saturday, and missed Meadow Ed's  
stories of water, I did not know the Pink Motel existed.  After struggling  to 
Cabazon to pick up supplies and struggling with rain to get back to the  Trail, I 
walked through the desert.  Suddenly, there was the sign "Welcom  PCT Hikers", 
followed shortly by a sign "No Trespassing."  I struggled with  the paradox 
awhile and then headed up the road.  One of my fondest memories  of the Trail 
was coming around to the back door, having it open a crack, and an  arm, 
bearing a frosty beer, emerge... all attached to the warm smile of  Ian-the-Brit.  
We sat through the afternorn and watched the storm rage  across the face of San 
Jacinto, listening to the 1812 Overature on a portable  radio and the wind 
wrestle across the windows and eaves of the house.
 
I will not miss the Mouse Olypics which kept me awake most of the night,  but 
I WILL miss the feeling of peace and security and warmth (not to mention the  
referigerator)  and the most marvelous view of a world of rock and snow and  
wind and sand from the kitchen window of the Pink Motel.  

"No Way" Ray  Echols