I allowed myself to sleep in a bit so felt pretty rested this morning. Highway wasn't too bad when I left, but I was glad to turn off onto dirt. It was a bit soft but plenty rideable. Solitude once again. Climbing more than descending dominated my morning, up and down, on pretty soft sandy dirt. I had to be extra careful at holding my line in the middle of the rut when going downhill and the uphill was slower than it should have been. The final push up the last steep kicker to the summit for the day was down a very overgrown, mostly singletrack road that had a fair amount of deadfall to negotiate. And it turned out I could probably have stayed on the main, non overgrown road anyway as it joined right back up. I made what kept thinking was terrible time getting through to the final descent to Crescent, but I made it to the post office with 45 minutes to spare till closing time, and picked up my package. So now I have two spare derailleur hangers, and another spare set of brake pads. Another worry off my chest. I resupplied at an honest to goodness Dollar General, and for the life of me couldn't find a park between Crescent and Gilchrist. There were all kinds of businesses, restaurants, RV parks, a sawmill, even a short bike path to avoid the crazy busy highway, but no park, not even a single bench or trash can. Weird. I ended up buying fluids at a little grocery store in Gilchrist. Then I had to just sit in the grass at a little church for a makeshift park. I rode out of town on a shortcut road, and boy howdy do drivers in the west not give a crap about cyclists. Even when there's no oncoming traffic. I even get buzzed by the cars with bikes on the back. I was thrilled about turning off the pavement onto another sandy dirt road. I rode for a few miles to the national forest and didn't get far enough away from a highway, but it's tolerable enough a campsite. In a very dense stand of pines, reminds me of Georgia honestly. Not a single sagebrush in sight. The smoke today improved as I moved further west away from the Bootleg fire. To the point that by the end it smelled kinda like being about a mile downwind of a campground that likes using up all the firewood every night. Rather than the worst of yesterday, which was like being a bit too close to a campfire.