Sweet Creek

Today, we went to Sweet Creek.  (Or, as EDO would spell it, Sweat Creak.)  At any rate, it was the other side of the "Oregon Coast" calendar.  On the one side are beautiful beaches and on the other side are coastal rain forests:  Dense, lush, and filled with towering cedars, hemlocks, and Douglas fir trees.  On the way to our final trailhead, we were waved down by a young lady driving a Prius.  She had a flat tire and needed help.  Actually, I think she knew what to do, all the tools were pulled out of the vehicle and properly deployed.  She could not, however, get the donut (spare) free from the trunk.  The "easy release" nut and bolt system built into the car was rusted shut.

I pounded on it for a few minutes but had no luck.  I asked her if it would be OK to break it?  She was desperate enough to agree . . . anything to get off the mountain without needing to call AAA.  So, I began to muscle the spare back and forth, trying to snap the bolt.  I was sweating and making slow progress when a stocky Mexican guy pulled up with his family.  He shuffled over and took a look.  Then he bent his legs, bowed his back, and hugged the spare.  He nearly lifted the Prius off the ground, but the bolt snapped and out came the donut!  Goddamnit, I wanted to hug the guy.  He saved me hours of labor.  We had the young lady fixed up in no time and were able to hike to Beaver Creek (below).