The forest grew increasingly dense as I wended my way. I prefer the desert, but tho't it'd be a nice change of pace being in the woods. Then it rained (Rain!!) and the trees, by now denser than ever, acquired an Edgar-Allen-Poe ominosity. I recognized the symptoms: ah had the heebie-jeebies!!!
The sun wuz wukkin' hits way t'ward duh horiz'n whin duh dirt road 'peared (right on time). Five miles later ah beginned tuh wonder, but yea olde intuition bellowed "Keep goingk!" I rounded a curve, the forest opened and there (as seen in previous post Metolius Headwaters) was Mt. Jefferson, only ALOT closer!!
At the top was a parking lot.
I went back down about a mile to a cubbyhole that Eggbert fit into perfectly.
The trees were big.
The next day I went over the mountain to the eastern steppes where I could see more than 50 feet. My claustrophobia disappeared. Guess what? Dynamo Donuts is in San Francisco.