On Sunday I had my first glimpse in the daylight of the transformation of Belden during the music festival. The quaint and quiet town that my mom and I saw the week before when we left my truck and trailer there, population about 22, had been transformed into a crazy, lit-up, busy mini-city. I must have stuck out like some kind of alien in my jeans and t-shirt, among all the girls with bangles and beads and flowing flower-printed skirts and the half-naked people with dreadlocks everywhere. There were stages and bands and DJ's and tents and RV's crowding the one-lane road that passes through the town in front of the lodge. But everyone was friendly and welcoming, even the park rangers who I met that had been kindly keeping an eye on my truck and trailer over the past days (I had left a note on the dash explaining that I was riding the PCT and would be back for it, as I wasn't sure it was actually legal to park it where I did). I drove slowly through town and over the one-lane bridge to the highway on my way to meet Pam Williams, one of my mom's friends, who had so nicely volunteered to meet me and drive me back to Belden after I left my truck at my next destination, which was just above Old Station, about a two-hour drive from Belden. Pam was amazing--she brought me a delicious lunch and took me to a campground where I could get a shower (at one time I had hoped to get a room at the lodge at Belden for the night, but the music festival made that impossible), and we talked and laughed as she took me back to Belden. It was a long day of driving for her, and I was incredibly grateful for her help (and the promise of meeting her had kept me pushing through the long ride on Saturday, as I didn't want to miss this chance!).
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