Day 114: Not So Desolate Wilderness

9/7/2023

Section: Milepost 1121.4 to 1093.4

Total Trail Miles: 1846/2650 

Distance: 28.71 Miles  

Moving Time: 12:23 hr

Elevation Gain: 4,564 ft

Today was a juge day. We had randomly been connected with some wonderful people in Placerville via a mutual friend of Amanda’s named Katelynn Barnes who had hosted PCT hikers before and were excited to host us. We had agreed with them to meet at Lower Echo Lake today, in the evening. Now, the only thing that stood between us after 9 days on the trail and a car ride to a mattress was 28 miles so… we were stoked but knew we had a long way to go.

The stage today is defined by a high point at Dick’s Pass (yea - can’t make these names up). It starts by circumventing Sourdough hill and passing the western shore of Richardson Lake (White Man Names, amiright) before ascending to gain a ridge across the lower flanks of Lost Corner Mountain. Once on the ridge, the stage continues its solemn climb up and up towards the pass. Along the way, it skirts the shores of Middle Velma, Upper Velma and Fontanallis lake. Oh, don’t forget Dick’s lake - yea, the pass and the lake are named after this dick. Once Dick’s Pass is mounted, the path drops precipitously across the upper basin of Half Moon Lake before curling down to Susie Lake. Susie lake starts a long chain of lakes, including Heather and Aloha, before the trail drops out of the lake basin, past Upper and Lower Echo lakes and eventually deposits weary PCT hikers out at the Lower Echo Lake trailhead. Did I say lake enough?

We woke up at five which, even for us, is a little early, but we knew we had a long way to go and a rendezvous with an actual mattress later this evening so, we were pumped. We shot down some breakfast with a little coffee before getting our things packed up. As we packed we talked with our herb-loving, Canadian neighbors about the PCT. They were hiking it but we hadn’t run into them before so we exchanged beta about everything they had coming ahead as well as what we had coming downtrail before heading on out. 10 minutes before 7 we were on our way, making quick work of the gorgeous trail lined out before us. 

The Desolation Wilderness is poorly named. As one of the crown jewel wildernesses of California, it gets a lot of love - and rightly so. The area is pock-marked by quintessential high-Sierra lakes nestled at the bottom of centerfold-worthy granite basins so, it was not a surprise when we ran into a group heading north through the wilderness, early in the morning and then continued to do so for the rest of the day. We wound our way up along Richardson lake in the early morning light. The trail was smooth but I was a little worried about running into a bear since we were so quiet. Crazy that we have walked over 1800 miles and not seen a single, brown-furred buddy. We’ve run into plenty of bears hiking in the past, but none yet on the PCT, however, we had heard that, if we were going to see one, the area around Tahoe would be the place. 

We continued on, reaching our first string of lakes at Velma and peered jealously at the first of many tents set up on idyllic granite shelves, their inhabitants still fast asleep inside. This would be the first of many instances where we found ourselves envious of the flexibility that comes with weekend backpacking. After leaving Dick’s lake behind, we climbed steeply, running into some cheery Tahoe Rimmer’s on our way up and were on top around 1 pm where we took the opportunity to eat lunch and film the epic climax of our sprint up Dick’s pass. 

After about 30 antic-filled minutes, we started to descend. Dick’s was the first place I had gotten decent reception in a few days so I sent out a text to our mutual friends in Placerville and gave them my best estimate of our arrival time. Hannah texted me back saying they would be there and we began our descent. I also let her know that my phone was going out on me. Everything is dead - my phone, the power pack, headphones. Nine days is a long time to go without a decent charge and I'm pretty sure my little solar panel is toast as well.

On the south side of Dicks, things started to get rocky - like literally, the trail became a chaotic mess of marble size stones that slowed our progress waaaay down. This section is right up there with the Marble Wilderness for trail difficulty and brought our moving average down to less than a mile an hour in some places. I love these trail runners for hiking but they do not soak up stones like a pair of boots can - still worth the trade-off though. We are really in the core Desolation wilderness now and these lakes are GORGEOUS! Amongst the granite outcroppings tons of tents started popping up - vibrant reds and oranges amongst the beige granite. At one point I got another note out to Hannah indicating we would be about an hour behind, which she indicated would not be a problem as we sprinted along the eastern banks of Aloha lake. By the time we departed from the south end of Echo lake we were crawling. Nine days ending in a marble strewn mess of trail will really take it out of you.

The sun set on us as we made our way past Echo lake, serpentining around homes built up on the lower banks of the lake. Car headlights beckoned us on and eventually we were down to the parking lot, making our way across man-made bridges over fish laters. It was at this moment that a black, bushy dog ran up to me barking and I heard a guy farther up the trail yelling “Aria, Aria, ARIA!!” He recognized us as he came around a turn and waved as Amanda said hello to the excitable Aria. He introduced himself as Hannah’s husband, Evan and asked, with a smile, if we were looking for a ride. We laughed and introduced ourselves and said sorry and thank you half a dozen times before starting a short walk back to the car. At the car we said hello to Hannah and apologized for how bad we were sure we smelled before getting into their car and speeding down I-50 back to Placerville. Along the way we talked, getting to know each other. Hannah was a local librarian and Evan worked for the local government with marijuana growers in the area on permitting. About 50 minutes brought us down the gentle west side of the Sierra and into the lower foothills where we stopped to get late night drive-through Mexican. It was exactly what we needed when we got back to Hannah and Evan’s place, where they said there was still a chance we might see a bear as there had been a local one pillaging the garbage cans.

After our Mexican dinner, Amanda went for a shower and I talked with Hannah and Evan. We found out then that Aria was not a fan of me in the slightest but curious enough to still investigate the chances of friendship. After Amanda was done with her shower I took mine before passing out on a wonderfully soft bed, my bruised and battered feet finally getting a chance to do some repair and so looking for a 0-day in Placerville.

Day 113: Tahoe Lake

9/6/2023

Section: Milepost 1148.3 to 1121.4

Total Trail Miles: 1818/2650

Distance: 28.11 Miles

Moving Time: 11:43 hrs

Elevation Gain: 4,429 ft

Click here for current location

Today, the great, blue lake Tahoe came into sight. I have to say, as a native born Californian, I am a little ashamed to admit that this was my first, conscious sighting of this great, beautiful, blue expanse. None-the-less, we were happy to see it, because it marked another step closer to the core Sierra that we were quickly approaching from the north. 

Today’s route continues on the ridge we had gained the day before out of the Donner Ski ranch, headed south. We started by circumnavigating the west side of Anderson Peak, then the east side of Tinker Knob (what a name) from which we began a 3.5 mile, 1200 foot descent into the North Fork of the American River. From the river we climbed back up - another 1200 feet - to the east flank of Granite Chief, crossing under some lifts in the upper reaches of The Palisades ski resort and crossing into the Tahoe National Forest. This precipitated another descent, larger this time, 1500 feet into the Whiskey Creek basin before regaining another ridge on the western reaches of Ward Peak, crossing under some more lifts within the Palisades Ski area boundary. For 5 miles, the route stays at a consistent elevation until Twin Peaks, where it drops down to the North Fork river and climbs back up to 8250’. Here, the day’s stage makes a final, major descent, around Barker Peak, to Miller Creek where we stopped for the night, just short of the Desolation Wilderness.

This morning was a slow start. I know I've said that a few times but our bodies definitely needed a good rechard the night after our first 30+ day… and the Micky’s. We woke around 6:30 and began getting ready for the day. At over 100 days in, we have this down pat. Someone usually makes breakfast while the other person rolls up the tent. We have been living with a broken zipper on my side for over 2 weeks now and I am so looking forward to getting our buddy Josh (and Maddy’s) tent in Placerville here in 2 days while we coordinate the delivery of our waterproof replacement from Big Agnes. 

By 7:30, we were up and walking. The days are getting shorter after their pinnacle in late June but it’s still difficult to tell. We walked a bit before crossing behind the west side of Anderson Peak. Couldn’t help but think how nice it might have been to go a few extra miles last night to get to some official campsites on the southwest side, but, whateve’s. The pace was slow. A lot of up-and-down as we made our way along the ridge. The views west and east were gorgeous as we traversed along the highline and at around 8:30 am, the lake came into view. “There it is!'' I exclaimed as we rounded a low hill. “Whoa,'' Amanda said as she looked up. We picked a small, granite shelf to set up the GoPro and snap some pictures. It was SO BLUE! “That’s gorgeous,'' I said and Amanda agreed. We sat and finished off some BBQ Fritos - new favorite - before helping each other get back into our backpacks and carrying on. 

At noon, after passing under some ski lifts, we stopped at the Middle Fork of the American River and filtered water. The Sawyer is still holding its own and I have been carefully backashing it in hopes that we don’t have another Northern California incident. We had a quick snack of trail mix and a new bag of Kettle Chips before continuing on down and back up. While I'm glad to be back in the Sierra, the up and down is brutal. It reminds me of my home mountains, the North Cascades, where every trailhead sits at the bottom of a several-thousand foot climb up to some ridge or peak. The concept of flat is lost on most of the west coast. As we passed into another section of the Palisades Ski Resort we ran into, for the third time, the European/mid-West group we had first met crossing into Sequoia National park on Day 50 and then again just south of Ashland on day 86. We stopped and said hi to them as they were snacking. Never having been great conversationalists, they didn’t have much to say but were happy to see us. We spent a little time discussing the last 50 days and exchanging beta before wishing each other good luck and continuing our separate ways. 

Shortly after, we went into audiobook mode. I continued my book, Assembling America, and saturated myself in the deep geological history of California. It really is a fantastic state for so many reasons. I found out today that Placerville, the town where we were staying with some friends of friends, was named as such for the many gold deposits found in stream beds in the local rivers throughout the area so, yea, prepared to stun our hosts with that geographically significant fact when we see them tomorrow.

In the afternoon we sped up significantly - probably due to the generally downhill nature of the later stages. This really is a gorgeous trail. In the afternoon, we also started running into the TR (Tahoe Rim) hikers who, in some cases, were setting up their tents at 4 pm. We passed by, a little jealous of the early stop many of them were able to afford on their timeline. As we continued on, the English guy we had last seen in Sierra City passed us and we stopped to chat for a while before he headed on out ahead of us.

We walked on…and on. Eventually, we passed through a parking lot which marked a popular entry into the Desolation Wilderness and talked to an older guy with a very prominent and sunburnt nose for a few minutes. Eventually the sun set, as it is now more regularly doing on us. 

We continued on, a little nervous, because Tahoe Lake was supposed to be big black bear country. We have both seen our fair share of bears backpacking but hiking at night always ups the fear factor a bit. Eventually we found our target campsite, on the banks of Miller Creek, and stumbled around until we found a good, flat pad to set-up the tent. We tried to not wake up more than a few of our neighbors as we did so. I ate a pretty terrible Backpacker’s Pantry Sante Fe bowl but an excellent Belchin’ Beaver IPA more than made up for it before I stuffed our minimal remaining food stores into the bear canister and walked it a good 50 yards away before making my way back to the tent. The smell of reefer wafted over to our tent from the nearby neighbors as Amanda and I passed out after another epic Sierra day. 

Day 112: 40’s for 30

9/5/2023

Section: Milepost 1178.3 to 1148.3

Total Trail Miles: 1791/2650

Distance: 30.65 Miles  

Moving Time: 12:06 hrs

Elevation Gain: 4898 ft

Click here for current location

BIGGEST MILEAGE ON THE TRAIL SO FAR!!! So cool to get over 30 miles, and we WORKED at it! This section is absolutely gorgeous and the first day that I can say, without a doubt, we are firmly in the Sierra. 

The path today starts from the saddle we ended at the night before at the head of Jones Valley and proceeds south-southeast. The first 12 miles is composed of a maddening up and down between 7600 and 8200 feet. At 4.4 miles in, the path turns distinctly east and passes through Lacey Creek Campground at Meadow Lake Road before climbing back up the nose of a northeast running ridge and continuing on east. At around 10 miles, the PCT passes below the quintessential granite cirque of White Rock Lake before turning south and climbing up to the day’s high point below Basin Peak. From this highpoint, the trail descends rapidly down to I-80 through a shrubby basin riddled with beautiful white granite boulders. The PCT crosses I-80 near Boreal Mountain Resort and continues south, serpentining through more gorgeous granite. At Donner Pass Road the day’s route bottoms out before making a heroic climb out of Donner Pass, skirting the boundary of Sugar Ski Bowl and following a ridge south to Anderson Peak where the stage ends.

Today was an exciting day because we were going to get to Donner Ski Ranch and that meant FREE BEER so, we were up and getting ready around 5:30 am - the sun already getting up and about. I enjoyed some oatmeal and a hot coffee before we rounded up our things and set off. The early part of the day passed without too much incident. The granite was starting to become common and the air was really starting to smell differently as we truly entered the high sierra. The other giveaway that we were starting to get into the true Sierra was the elevation. We hadn’t seen days that stuck around in the mid-7000’s since we had left this area earlier in the summer. 

We hiked throughout the morning discussing how well we were sleeping and how nice it was to be consistently dry. Eventually we topped out near Basin Peak and stopped to eat some lunch. The day was sunny and the perfect temperature for hiking. On restarting we decided to go to headphones for some books on tape. I have just started reading “Assembling California,” by John McPhee, which is a perfect book to be reading right now because it is all about the geological formation of California. It’s so perfect that, about 20 minutes down the trail, just as John starts recounting the beginning of his geological trip across California at Truckee on I-80, I-80 came into sight! We wound our way down to the big road through a gorgeous open basin riddled with giant, white granite boulders. Along the way I started to see lizards again which had been gone too long from our trail days. We passed a few day hikers along the way who gave us a wave and kept going, stopping a few times to marvel at the big ‘ol Foxtail pines that had, seemingly, sprung up out of nowhere. 

The path paralleled I-80 for a while but eventually passed under it before undulating its way through small alpine lakes and giant boulder fields, then passing under some well bolted crags and dropping down to Donner Pass Road. Here, we excitedly turned onto the road and sprinted up to Donner Ski Ranch. The excitement here was not only the chance to get a great burger but, also, a free 40 oz Mickey’s! That’s right, show your PCT permit at the Donner Ski Ranch and you get 40 free ounces of malt liquor! We arrived at the Donner Ski ranch in the mid-late afternoon and dropped our stuff on the porch before entering, ordering our burgers and getting our ice cold drinks. We sat on the deck while waiting for our food, marveling at the change of scenery in front of us. It really was incredible to see the Cascades give away to a very different landscape and it felt so good to be inching our way back to where we had bailed what seemed like ages before. 

Eventually our burgers came and we scarfed them down. I put a good dent in my Mickeys before deciding another burger was in order. Amanda agreed and we ordered two more. After we were done with them we discussed how much further we had in us. We agreed we could do 7 more to get to 30 and red-shouldering our packs and heading on out. We hiked back down Donner Pass Road and turned right, back onto the PCT, and started another stout grade up under the Mount Judah Express rising from Sugar Bowl Resort. We climbed and climbed, eventually passing under Mt. Judah and serpentined along a ridge towards Anderson Peak. The sun set on us and we continued to hike. On and on we went until Amanda finally said she was done. We were a ways from any good camping so we found a clear spot and set up our tent off the trail a little ways. We weren’t hungry or energetic enough to make a formal meal so we ate some snacks we had before doing some yoga and passing out happy to have reached our first 30 mile day and finally be in the true high country of the Sierra. 

Day 111: Milkshake Mania

9/4/2023

Section: Milepost 1196.5 to 1178.3

Total Trail Miles: 1761/2650

Distance: 18.77 Miles  

Moving Time: 07:36

Elevation Gain: 4,616 ft

Click here for current location

I think it took me most of the night to get warm again. The cold soaks in deep hiking in the rain for 4 days straight. We decided that, due to the circumstances, we would sleep in today - figured we had earned it. Of course, with Amanda, sleeping in means sleeping ‘till about 7:30, maybe 8 max. The day was gorgeous outside as we went about picking up our room. It was a funny look, with clothes hanging off just about every horizontal surface we could find but the good news was that everything had dried well overnight. 

Once we were a bit more organized and I had checked on our tent hung over the banister on the back deck, we went across the street to the Sierra City General store that sold the same burritos Lightweight had gifted us the night before. We put in our order and I grabbed a tub of sour cream to accommodate it and, just as we sat down at the table, Fiver came into the shop looking very ragged. “How are you doing?” Amanda asked, waving for him to join us. “Okay,” he said sheepishly. He sat down and told us that the day before, not long after he had passed us, he had gotten very cold and worried that he might be hypothermic. At Packsaddle campground he had gone into the outhouse and slept on the floor for an hour or so, because it had a heater, before pushing on to Sierra City. Once in Sierra City, he hadn’t found a place he could pay for so had slept against the side of the general store. We told him we were sorry to hear that and offered him some of our burritos - they were waaaay too big for one person, which he happily accepted. We told him there was a good hiker box across the way in the Sierra City hotel and that he should take a look. He said he would and that he was going to try and get a hitch out to Truckee because he had gone as far as he could with the paper maps he had and needed ones for further south in California. We wished him luck and told him we had enjoyed sharing the trail with him the past few days and, just like that, he was gone.

After the burrito, Amanda and I did a little resupplying. We were still about 4ish days out from South Lake Tahoe and needed some odds and ends to get us there. I bought a milkshake because, you know, nothing like grocery shopping with a milkshake, and got to perusing. After about 10 minutes, Amanda and I had collected everything we thought we needed for the trail ahead, paid and stepped outside. On the deck we talked with an English guy for a while before heading back across the street and grabbing our stuff. We paid, and Uncle Rob agreed to give us a lift back to the trail head. We jumped in his Dodge Pick-up and he sped up the road to our destination. At the trailhead, we took some pictures with him and thanked him for the stay before getting into our warm-ups and setting off.

The stage today was a short one due to the late start, but it climbs pretty much the whole way. On the south side of Route 49, the trail parallels the road for a bit before crossing the North Yuba River on a beautiful bridge and starting to climb along and then away from it. At 2.5 miles in, the PCT crosses Milton creek and then Haypress Hydro Road before ramping up through the Milton Creek drainage. The next 3.5 miles are solid climbing which eventually culminates in attaining a series of low hills. At mile 11, the PCT crosses FR H07 near Pass Creek Campground and continues to grind upward, passing through a labyrinth of forest service roads. The path eventually gains a ridge and turns due east, eventually arriving at a saddle below the day’s highpoint where we stopped for the night.

We crossed the North Yuba River, marveling at the beautiful trough it had cut into the granite before continuing on. Early on we encountered a number of day hikers that steadily fell off as we climbed out of the Yuba drainage and eventually got ourselves into the Milton Creek drainage. The day was sunny and warm, a wonderful change from the last 4 days of rain and we made good time. We reached a series of low hills and serpentined around them for a while before descending slightly to Henness Pass Road, where we stopped for a quick bite to eat. 

After our short lunch we continued to climb again. Jackson Meadows Reservoir spread out below us on our right as we gained altitude. Eventually the path turned east and we started looking for a place to bed down for the night. We reached a rise and descended a short distance to a saddle where we called it and made camp for the night. I went to get water while Amanda got the tent going. We had some freeze-dried meals and took in the fading light over the landscape that was looking ever more Sierra-ee by the mile. We passed out shortly after, so glad to be dry again. 

Day 110: Sierra City Swim

9/3/2023

Section: Milepost 1220.8 to 1196.5

Total Trail Miles: 1743/2650

Distance: 23.54 Miles  

Moving Time: 09:33 hrs

Elevation Gain: 3,473 ft

Click here for current location

One of the most bittersweet sounds on the trail is the steady drum of rain on a rainfly. Definitely more on the bitter side if you know your tent fly is compromised. 

We woke on day 110 to that steady drum and wordlessly got organized. I made myself a classic Land o’ Lakes mocha and Amanda some tea, keeping inside the precarious cover of the tent as much as possible. Fiver’s tent was still very much up and its occupant appeared to still be asleep. Slowly we packed the last few things into our backpacks, carefully ensuring all the items that needed to stay dry were getting the cover they needed. Our plan was to get to Sierra City today where, hopefully, we would get to dry some stuff out, but it was going to be a long haul and we wanted to make sure we were prepared to camp one more night if we had to.

The route today was another brutal one. We were into September now and our trail legs were in full swing, so 20-30 mile days were becoming the steady norm. Like many days in northern California, the PCT starts this stage climbing 800 feet out of a saddle, demarcated by the parking lot we had slept in, and gaining the south side of a southeast running ridge. From here, the path runs parallel to the Taho/Rumas National Forest boundary, making its way southeast through dense thickets of pine. At 4.5 miles, the PCT intersects with Long Lake Trail and continues on southeast. At 7.61, the path crosses FS Road 12M01 and climbs a short distance to 7400 feet before plunging down past Deer Lake to Packsaddle Campground at 6100’. From here, the PCT turns back up to Tamarack Lakes through a labyrinth of forest service roads eventually topping out back at 7400 feet where the trail crosses the Sierra Buttes Lookout Trail. The path traverses around the exposed south side of the immense Sierra Buttes massif with clear views down into Sierra City, dropping consistently along the way. At 20.5 miles, the route continues its nearly 3000’ descent as it winds down some impressive switchbacks which eventually arrive at Route 49 where the stage ends. 

It was almost 8 before we were on our way, the light illuminating details of our surroundings we couldn’t grasp in the darkness the night before. We spotted a loan Jeep Liberty making the rounds in the early morning fog as we left the parking lot, likely scouting for some hunting spots or the ORV path. We ducked into the woods and began our climb up to the ridge along which we would be spending our am. The morning was damp but we warmed up quickly. The path through these sections is spongy but quick and we made good time along the mellow climb. Water rushed everywhere and fell relentlessing from the sky as we pushed on upwards. We made the ridge and started winding our way south as the morning passed by uneventfully. Eventually, Fiver passed us saying hello as he did so. He looked a little more damp this morning and maybe just a touch less chipper. The ridge would have offered good views out to the north but, shrouded as it was in a dense fog, there wasn’t much to see. What little views we did get, though, strongly suggested we were indeed transitioning away from the cascades and into the Sierra. Granite was featuring more and more in the geography around us. 

Around 11 am I threw a hissy fit. Really glad Amanda was ahead of me because it was not a moment that would have made her proud. I was cold, i never really got warm today and, eventually, I brought out my puffy and put it on. I really didn’t want to - the puffy is your last line of defense against cold and, usually, it’s a silver bullet for staying warm but if it gets wet the nicely distributed down in each individual cell clumps together and the jacket becomes worthless. I knew that was going to be the case despite the rain jacket I was wearing over the top of it. This gear is good, but nothing short of a plastic bag is going to put up with 12 hours of solid rain and I really wasn’t interested in being a human Sous vide either. Anyway, i was cold and tired, we couldn’t see anything and the rain just kept coming down. I was trying to put my puffy on and keep it dry but my hands were wet, which meant that they wouldn’t pull through the sleeves and the whole time I could just feel the one thing that might keep me a little warmer getting waterlogged. So I screamed some expletives and had a little pity party for a few minutes before reshouldering my backpack and continuing on. Really bad look but, fortunately, it was just me because no one else seemed to be stupid enough to be out in the middle of this storm. 

About an hour or so of descent brought us down to Packsaddle campground. The rain started to abate as we got down to the campground. We stopped there and kinda warmed up in a few stray sun rays that made it through the clouds. We ate and contemplated trying to hitch into Sierra City but eventually decided we were going to finish off the day. We got back under our packs and started the climb out of Packsaddle Campground which, under sunnier conditions, looked like it would have been beautiful. On the way up, we ran into a NOBO named U-haul who was nice to talk with but deflated our already low spirits when he said there wasn’t much in the way of vacancies in Sierra City - maybe one room left at the Sierra City Hotel. “Ugh,'' I said to Amanda, when U-haul had pulled out of earshot, "I am not sleeping outside tonight, whatever it takes,” which she promptly agreed with. 

We climbed and climbed and eventually topped out through a notch which transitioned us to the south side of the Sierra Buttes. The next few miles we traversed alongside the exposed south side of the buttes…on shale. Compared to the wonderful trail we had been on throughout the day, the shale was a killer. There is almost nothing worse to hike on - maybe lava rock, it’s a terrible way to end a day. We picked our way along, looking down on clear views of Sierra City, hoping that there would be something there for us. Around dusk we finished the traverse and started down what I can honestly say are the most annoying switchbacks on the 2650 miles of the PCT. Look, I'm all for keeping the grade minimal but these stupid things extended the day by probably two hours, keeping the grade under 10%. Like, Amanda and I got angrier and angrier with every step. At about the 9th turn she finally shouted “What the F*%# is up with these switchbacks?” “Yea,” I agreed “this is ridiculous, just take us down.” It was about 40 minutes and several thousand feet later that we were finally delivered to the bottom at route 49. It was also pitch black, the sun having sunk long ago. “Well, nothing like getting a hitch in the dark,” I said to Amanda. 

We debated what to do on the road. Catching a hitch after dark, in the middle of nowhere California seemed improbable…and a little sketchy and a potential driver would probably be thinking the same thing. On the other hand we were cold, tired and had never wanted a warm shower more in our lives. As we waited we saw the lights of a car coming up the grade. “Let’s give it a shot,” Amanda suggested. We stuck our thumbs out as a white Prius came around the corner. Miraculously, it slowed as it went past and pulled over to the side of the road just a bit beyond our spot. “No way!” I said, grinning at Amanda. “Serial killers don’t drive Priuses, right?” she responded back. We made our way up to the car and a younger woman jumped out and asked where we were going. “Sierra City?” Amanda asked. “Oh yea - I can do that,” the woman replied with a light French accent. We thanked her profusely before loading our backpacks and getting in the back. 

As our savior sped up the road she told us that she was up visiting a friend from South Lake Tahoe and had done sections of the trail so tried to pick hikers up if she saw them. We told her this lift was probably the most appreciated we had had on the trail, which made her laugh. We rolled into the tiny street of smaller buildings that was Sierra City. Sadly it looked like most of the sources of food were closed, but light was coming out of the Old Sierra City Hotel so we asked to be dropped there. We tried to pay but she just smiled and said good luck before disappearing into the night. “Well - luck is holding so far, let’s see if there is any room in the inn,” I said to Amanda. We entered to a boisterous crowd talking in a pool parlor area, led by a middle aged man behind the bar. Lightweight was there and we congratulated each other for getting through the deluge. When I could get the friendly bar tender’s attention I sheepishly asked if there was any space left. He smiled and said “I think i have one room left, let me go make sure it’s ready to go.” After about 5 minutes he came back and showed us a very warm, very dry and wonderful living space. 

I hung the tent outside and our stuff along with everyone else’s things in the common area amidst the cacophony of space heaters while Amanda showered. I asked our proprietor, who was affectionately known in the area and on FarOut as “Uncle Rob,” if there was anywhere we could get some food. He shook his head before informing me sadly that everything was closed but Lightweight offered what was left of a massive burrito from the county store across the street and Uncle Rob did offer to go get a 6-pack of beers from the same store so… in the end, everything was just fine. Eventually Amanda came down and we all talked for some time. Uncle Rob was an absolute character and had endless stories about the place. Sometime around midnight we couldn’t stay up anymore so decided to call it quits. We said goodnight to those still up and passed out in a nice warm and dry bed for the first time since leaving Chester.  

Day 109: Outta the Burn, Into a Cloud

9/2/2023

Section: Milepost 1245.3 to 1220.8

Total Trail Miles: 1719/2650

Distance: 25.49 Miles

Moving Time: 11:00

Elevation Gain: 4993 ft

Today was…wet - the whole way through - which dampened our spirits a bit but I guess this is how you truly experience the trail in all its glory. It rained all night, sometimes lightly and others…less so. The tent is still leaking, though not as bad as during hurricane Hillary. Still, I woke up with a small puddle on my side of the tent. The nice thing is that, with these new sleeping bags, most of the fill stays on top so the only thing that really gets wet is the sleeve that the air pad slips into, and the air pad itself, which isn’t really a big deal. I ran out and retrieved the bear canisters so that Amanda and I could enjoy our breakfast in the relative dryness of the Big Agnes. Our campsite mates, who we now knew as Fiver (previously Bean Pole) and Bam (the other guy) , were still fast asleep. We ate our dry breakfast but I did heat up some water, remembering how my dad had once said it was his dream to have to use the vestibules to cover the stove while he heated water, and got caffeinated. As we left in a downpour, Fiver and Bam still hadn’t shown themselves. Getting up in the rain is brutal - it’s so much nicer to just listen to it pound against the rainfly then have to go out into it.

The stage today is massively frustrating - the profile looks like a heartbeat monitor. Just up and down all day, but at the same time moving up in elevation all day. It starts at the extreme east side of the ridge we had traversed the evening before, climbing up past Fowler lake and around Fowler peak. On the east side of Fowler Peak the PCT establishes itself on Lumpkin Ridge, crossing a road with the same name before turning northeast. The path stays on top of the ridge before dipping down into a little saddle at La Porte Road and eventually curling south above the origin of the South Fork of the Feather river at the 11 mile mark. From here, the path gains another ridge - Bunker Hill Ridge - and crosses above a lovely pond with a horrible name - Duck Soup Pond. At Duck Soup Pond, a 1200 foot descent begins and continues over the next 4 miles to mile 18, crossing the north side of Etna and Stafford Mountains in the process. Eventually, the bottom of the bowl is reached near Johnsonville McRae Road and a 1500 foot climb proceeds for 5 miles before, again, dropping to a saddle where the Sloat McRae road and Lavezzola Creek OHV Road share a modest, gravel parking lot, which served as our camping spot.

I think I've said this before but I will say it again - the worst part of hiking in the rain in trail running shoes is your socks. You carry, at most, 3 pairs of socks and most people carry less so, if you walk in the rain for 2-3 days, there’s a high likelihood that you will be putting on wet socks in the morning. That was what I was thinking of as we began our saga on day 109 - my feet were already wet. The unfortunate part is, not only is it cold and unpleasant to walk in wet socks - it is much easier to develop blisters that way which makes things really uncomfortable. We hiked in silence. It was wet, cold and we knew there was a lot of elevation in front of us so… we weren’t very chatty. It wasn’t exactly cold but when you are damp, it’s tough to stay warm. Today was actually one of the coldest days for me on the trail because I was damp most of the time. I’m also really thinning out. I haven’t weighed myself in a while but I would guess I am at or maybe sub 170 which, at 6’3”, is really light for me. No body fat is keeping me warm. I tried to keep my puffy off because, once it gets wet it’s pretty useless and once it’s useless it can’t keep me warm.

Around midday, Fiver passed us, wearing shorts and a wool jacket and seemed to be in good spirits. I guess at 18 or 19, that doesn’t take much. We also passed a girl sitting at the junction of the PCT and a side trail. We asked if she was okay and she smiled and said yes and that she was just waiting for a friend to come back with water. We stopped shortly after for some snacks and Bam passed us with a friend whom he introduced as Happy Feet. We wished them luck and continued on shortly after.

In the early afternoon I looked around and commented to Amanda “I think we are out of the burn!” It had happened so suddenly but, thinking back to what we knew about the Dixie fire, today should have been about the day we left it behind. It had just happened so sneakily, looking at the ground all day and hiking through a soup, we had not really noticed but, all of a sudden, we were again surrounded by lush pine forests. “Yea,” Amanda replied, “we must be out of it now.” Outta the burn and into a cloud - what a transition, can’t say we were too thrilled given the fact that everything was soaked and we still had hours to go.

We came to a clear section of trail and were able to look out a bit. There were probably amazing views out in front and behind us but nothing was really visible, so we kept moving. We passed a tent and called out to check in on the occupant. An older guy came to the flap and said he was fine and that he just didn’t feel like hoofing it through the rain. Shortly after we passed Bam and Happy feet, relaxing out of the rain, under a large tree and then two more tents with hikers who had decided to wait out the rain.

Eventually, the dark came and we approached our end point for the day. A parking lot near a spring. Ironically, despite all the water falling from the sky, it was still a bit tricky to find water, so we wanted to make sure we were camping near it. We almost missed the parking lot and had started hiking when I ran into a sign that said we were at the trailhead, so we turned back around, did a little recon and found Fiver’s tent staked back in a little alcove on the south side of the parking lot. We pitched near him and he started up a conversation through the wall of the tent. Actually, he was talking with himself at first, but then we joined the conversation. I went and got water while Amanda set up the tent. I had promised us both hot chocolate so, when I returned, I heated some water and we had some hot chocolate to warm the soul and to try and stave off the misery. We ate in wonder at the soup of super hydrated air all around us before ducking into our tent, where our sleeping bags lay miraculously dry waiting for us. It was a brutal day but the great thing about brutal days is they make for amazing sleeps.

Day 108: Up…and Down

9/1/2023

Section: Milepost 1269 to 1245.3

Total Trail Miles: 1694/2650 Miles

Distance: 25.29 Miles

Moving Time: 10:37 hrs

Elevation Gain: 3740 ft

Whale… they said it was going to rain last night and rain it did, and it did not stop when we woke up. The bright side is that the tent seemed to be keeping the water out better than past deluges. The not so bright side? We had to walk out in this. As this was not our first day in the rain we were a little better prepared for getting underway without getting soaked. We did as much as we could under the tarp and then quickly evacuated the tent which we then promptly shook and packed away. There aren’t many worse experiences than packing a wet tent away knowing that it likely won't get a chance to get back out and dry off before you need it again later in the evening.

Speaking of the tent - I forgot to mention - on the climb out of Belden yesterday I was able to get some service and work out a replacement plan with Big Agnes. Turns out, they are going to just wholesale replace our tent, so - big thanks to BA. Bad news was we weren’t going to have it through what looked like at least a couple days of rain but you know, can’t have it all.

The stage today climbs up from Buck’s Lake road around the east side of a small hill, squished between the summit of the hill and Big Creek Road. The PCT crosses FSR 24N29Y before crossing Big Creek Road itself. From Big Creek Road the path climbs around 500 feet, crossing a number of ambiguous forest roads and eventually gaining Lookout Rock from which a distant view down a long grade can be observed to the east. Shortly after, the trail winds down that same grade into the Bear Creek drainage, losing over 2700 feet on the way. Once on the bottom, the trail climbs…again, up to a small saddle where a spring, aptly called Deadman Spring, sits before plunging down again to cross the mighty Middle Fork of the Feather River. Finally, to cap off the stage, the path climbs one final time, 2000 feet, to Sawmill Tom Creek Spur road on top of a northwest running ridge, along which the trail runs for some time before finally coming to a rest for the night.

We did get out a little late today because of the rain. Our boots were on the ground at 07:45. Well, not really the ground - on the asphalt, because we had to get back up to Bucks Lake road summit before we could even really start hiking. We walked the road in a healthy downpour both wondering if we should just sit this one out at the resort. Eventually, a green, late 90’s Land Rover Disco came up the road and we stuck our thumbs out with big smiles on our faces. It was clear the lady behind the wheel did not want to stop but eye contact held a lot of power and she begrudgingly pulled the old Land Rover over to the side about 10 yards after passing us. We rushed to catch up as she swung out to open the back for us. We thanked her profusely and she motioned for us to get in. Amanda got in up front and I got in the back where I found another passenger, already there in a car seat. “Hello,” I said, which was met with a silent smile. Our rainy day savior was quickly back on the road, heading up for the summit and chatting with Amanda about all the typical things. 10 minutes brought us back on top, our offer of 5 dollars was turned down and we were left with well wishes for our journey on. We waved as the green SUV made its way down the north side of the summit, did our warm-ups and started off down the trail.

The rain was…consistent, if nothing else, as we made our way up a slight grade through thick, young evergreen trees. We have learned a thing or two since our last run in with rain. Namely, we are both putting our bear cans to good use, not to protect our food, but to keep our sleeping bags dry. I was miserable after Hurricane Hillary up near Shasta and one of the key contributing factors was the fact that my sleeping bag got wet. Not happening this time. This time, my sleeping bag is sitting with 4 mm of hard plastic between it and anything damp - no wet sleeping bags for me.

As Amanda and I walked we talked about the American dream, how it is increasingly difficult to realize it and whether it was really a great thing to begin with. We passed a girl getting back on the trail with a few friends for support who gave us a clementine so - that was neat. Near Lookout rock we took a short break and were passed by the twig of a kid we had seen first in Belden Town. We said hi and he hurried on. The day passed pretty uneventfully. Eventually we started the descent into Bear creek and got down to the creek itself in the mid-afternoon. We stopped here to eat and take a break. These days are long and brutal and they don’t always have great views like in, say, the Marble Wilderness. It’s sort of a return to Oregon - big, long, green tunnel.

After a rest and water refill at Bear Creek, we returned to the suck, climbing almost 500 feet to go over a stupid little saddle, which both Amanda and I agreed could have been avoided, only to go back down 600 feet to the Feather River. Despite what seemed to be a really unnecessary up and down, the middle fork of the Feather River is spectacular. Outside the Core Sierra, it might be one of the most beautiful rivers on the whole PCT. Definitely one of the most overlooked - and the bridge spanning it? I would say that the bridge over the Middle Fork of the Feather River is the most beautiful on the PCT, it’s gorgeous. We chilled at the bridge for a while, half taking it in and half trying to put off what we knew was a brutal climb out of the Feather River drainage. Eventually though, with night pushing in, we got up and started off on the final climb of the day.

Ending the day on a climb is tough. It’s one thing on a day like Belden town, where you get on top early and then finish off with a descent, but a big climb at the end of the day can be a nightmare, especially because you know it is there the whole day. What made this climb even suckier were the manzanitas. About 1200 feet into the climb the trail was overtaken by the tenacious bush which bruised and battered us up the last 800 feet into darkness. We lost the trail several times and walked a bit on a parallel abandoned road grade, eventually stopping to get water at Fowler creek before heading into the darkness.

Another mile brought us to an area where FarOut had stated, somewhat non-committedly, that there was a camping spot. As we looked around, desperately wanting to call it a day, we heard a voice saying there was another spot nearby. We went over and found 2 tents. The guy who had called us over pointed to a spot nearby but said we should look up as the trees close to the burn zone were actively dropping large branches from up high. We peered up into the darkness and pitched our tent in an area that looked to be out of the drop zone. The other tent was occupied by our beanpole of a friend whom we also said hi to. Amanda and I ate, I did my nightly yoga and eventually we climbed in, exhausted from another big day - this one almost entirely in the rain.

Day 107: Belden Climb

8/31/2023

Section: Milepost 1293.6 to 1269

Total Trail Miles: 1670/2650

Distance: 25.14 Miles

Moving Time: 10:40 hrs

Elevation Gain: 5919 ft

Click here for current location

Phew… I did not win any “husband of the year” awards today… let’s just say that to start. This morning it took 90 minutes to get moving and I got… impatient…after about the 1 hour mark, but a lot was working against us. For one - there was more weird deer shit in the night. The evening before, Amanda put her socks out to dry on a rock and this morning one was missing. What we think happened was that a deer walked through camp, because we definitely heard it dicking around in the woods near our tent, and spotted Amanda's socks, at which point it attempted to eat one, failed at that and threw it back up on the ground. Filled with shame, we think it attempted to bury the sock, which it did poorly, before stumbling off into the woods. Deer are so weird. We extrapolated all of this based on a few noises in the night and the fact that her sock was very damp and poorly buried under some pine needles near where she had left it. In any case, the sock incident mixed with just general exhaustion, made for a slow morning which I did not handle as well as I could have. No poise and grace from this guy. So we started with a bit of chippyness which prevailed through most of the morning.

Today’s route continues down the same Chip’s creek drainage we had fought through the day before. More steep grades, more golf balls and more overgrowth. The trail maintains above the bottom of the drainage before switching down and running out to the Feather River and accompanying road. About 1000 feet separated our camp the night before and the river itself. At the Feather River highway the trail runs parallel to the road, occasionally climbing above the road before eventually crossing it and the Feather river itself and making its way into Belden town. At Belden town, the trail crosses back west, against itself for about a quarter mile before delivering hikers to the foot of one of the more memorable climbs on the PCT - the Belden Grade. Admittedly, this is a descent for most NOBO’s but, in our current position, it was a climb. The trail crawls up a brutal grade for the next 7 miles gaining 4000 feet in the same distance. The worst part? The “hill” up which the grade makes its way doesn’t even have a name - just, “Nameless Peak” or something. At mile 13, the grade finally takes a break, but continues a light climb on the south side of an east-west running ridge. Southeast of Mt. Pleasant, the PCT finally peaks and maintains an annoying up-and-down cadence while gorgeous “sierra-ish” lake basins unfold below. Just after mile 20, a trail runs off northeast to Spanish peak while the PCT turns due south and descends to Buck’s Summit road.

One of the reasons I might have been a little off this morning was that I was secretly holding out hope we could make it to Bucks Lakeshore Resort by the end of the day. I should really stop doing this because it injects an unnecessary amount of anxiety into our days but I jump at any chance to get a burger now - for better or worse. Once the whole deer-sock situation had been put to bed and we had gotten some food and caffeine in us, we started off downhill on the bowling alley. The walk was quiet and tense as we skirted above the Chips river - in fact, I was encouraged to “walk ahead” since I seemed to be in such a big hurry. As the trail continued to descend, moods improved and by the time we had reached the road, everything had pretty much smoothed over. At the base we found ourselves looking up at a historic mining facility built by “Joshua Hendy Iron Works’ which we immediately took a picture of to send to our friend Josh. As we walked across the parking lot next to the road, some power line technicians beckoned us over and offered us water. Begrudgingly - because I was still hoping for the burger - I went over to talk with them and accepted the bottled water. Having done a lot of work on lines near the PCT they were familiar with the trail and peppered us with the typical questions. We happily relayed our experience and chatted with them for a while. They offered us some apples which we accepted before thanking them and moving on…to the pit toilet, which we both made use of.

At 5.6 miles in, we crossed the Feather River - a beautiful granite floored river spanned by an old trestle bridge - and entered Belden town. In Belden town we were met by silence. Literally, nothing was open. We had been forewarned about this on FarOut but still - sucked to find it so abandoned. It sounds like everything comes alive around 4 pm so I guess if you can get here in the evening it’s amazing but ‘twas not the case for us. In any case, we stopped at a bench and took a quick rest. As we sat there, a younger, bean pole of a kid showed up behind us and asked if we thought anything was open. We smiled and said we had seen on FarOut that nothing was likely going to open for some time. He looked at us a little absently before saying “oh well, i’m going to go pick some apples then.” Sure enough, there was an apple tree behind him that he promptly went up to and began foraging. We laughed silently before shouldering our backpacks to start the climb. “See you in a bit,” we called over our shoulder as we began our venture out of Belden town.

The road led back westward along the southern edge of the Feather River. It was a beautiful day and still relatively cool, which we were so grateful for. The trail climbed up, slightly, to a railroad where we crossed and started the climb in earnest. Amanda and I were now on slightly better terms so I turned to her and said “you ready?” “Let’s get it done with” she replied and, just like that, we were on our way up. There was one thing I was worried about today more than the steepness of the grade. FarOut had been very clear that poison oak was everywhere along the climb and they were not wrong. Almost immediately, I noticed shiny green and red leaves crowding in from the side of the trail. “Is that poison oak?” Amanda asked, pointing to one of many small bushes on the side of the trail. “Yea,” I replied “it’s everywhere.” When I was 12, my family moved out of California to Oregon and just about every year after that, throughout my teens, I had one major Poison Oak incident a year. They were not light incidents either. I’ve had my eyes swollen shut and rashes over 70-80 percent of my body. Let’s just say - memorable experiences with the stuff - but after I was about 17 years old, the reactions just stopped and it had been a long time since an incident. Even so - seeing those oily leaves didn’t make me too comfortable. “Try not to touch it if you can,” I murmured to Amanda as we wound our way up and up.

We climbed in silence. The grade was brutal but we made good progress. There is something about committing to a dedicated climb that is encouraging. It’s like you know every step is progress and there is comfort in that. An hour brought us up a few thousand feet and we stopped to talk to a woman coming down the grade. She indicated that we had come up a ways but that we still had a thousand feet or so to go. We thanked her, ate some “pocky-yakis” and then returned to the grade. A little further one we passed Joe and Sarah who had stopped in the shade of a granite boulder. We talked for a little bit and commented on a herd of deer below. Amanda told them about her deer experience the night before, which elicited some laughter, and we continued on. Another 45 minutes brought us to the first of many mini summits for the day and we proceeded to dip in and out of the contours of a ridgeline. The views now that we were on top were amazing. We sped along the ridgeline and stopped around mile 15 to fill water at Mill creek. Here, we ran into a familiar face, Jay, whom we last saw at the Italian restaurant in Idyllwild 93 days before. He had originally been with Charlie’s group but had made it a point to try to get to all of the “high-point” sidequests along the trail and had fallen a bit behind. We chatted with him for a while, while I filled up our water, and eventually went our separate ways. We crossed Mill creek and committed to a much smaller but still despised climb up out of the little Mill creek river valley to a saddle near Mt. Pleasant. It was not pleasant… On top, though, we were treated to more epic views of a landscape looking more and more like Yosemite with every step. We hiked along the edge of a steep precipice, which plunged down into deep, granite cirques with little pools nestled in the bottom.

The trail continued in a despised up-and-down fashion as it made its way along a southeast running ridge. I got some cell service and looked up the Buck’s Lakeshore Lodge which suggested that the bar would be open until 8. “I think we can make this,” I said to Amanda. We sped along, hope of a burger and beer putting a little more speed in our step. At this point in the day, if I have an objective, I start doing math. Like - it’s 4 o’clock and we are walking at 2.4 miles per hour and we have 8 miles to go - okay, this is going to be a close one. And it always is, it always seems to be close. In any case, at the turnoff to Spanish peak, the trail began it’s nosedive down to Buck’s Summit. So began the endless descent, complete with a few annoying switchbacks. On the way down, we re-passed Joe and Sarah as well as the bean-pole of a kid setting up about a mile before the summit. They waved and we yelled that we were “risking it for the biscuit,” which, in this case, was a burger and beer. “Good luck,” they called back.

A seemingly endless set of switchbacks brought us down to a road. We saw a few good tent pads that we thought might work as a backup and Amanda took a restroom stop while I headed out to the road to see if I could flag down a car. I have to admit, hope was running low because we had had the road in our sights for a good hour and I had heard maybe one car on the entire descent. None-the-less, I settled myself on the side of the road and waited. Amazingly, 30 seconds brought the sounds of an approaching vehicle up the road. It was going the wrong way but it was coming. I threw my thumb out and a sheepish grin on my face as a mid 2000’s Toyota Tacoma raced up to the saddle. As soon as the driver saw me he threw on his brakes and pulled over. A middle-aged male face asked “where are you headed.” “I know it’s the wrong way, but my wife and I were hoping to get to Buck’s Lake Resort tonight.” Amazingly he just smiled and told me he would be happy to take us down there. “Thank you so much,” I said with a huge grin on my face. He jumped out and got to work getting his tailgate down and I called up to Amanda who didn’t respond. A few more shouts brought her out in a bit of a hurry as I loaded up my backpack. She reached the truck and added her backpack to the chaos before jumping in the truck looking at me sideways. Evidently, my calls for her to come down to the road had sounded a little frantic and she thought something was wrong. In any case, the driver flipped a U-ee and headed back towards Bucks lake.

15 minutes brought us down to the lake and the front steps of Buck’s Lakeshore resort where we thanked our driver, tried to give him 10 bucks, which he refused, and unloaded ourselves into the resort. Resort might be too strong of a word, but it was a very nice lodge and we stowed our things out of the way in the entrance and found our way to the bar. A kindly middle-aged man was conversing with a large group of regulars but eventually extracted himself to come get our order. “Is the kitchen still open,” I said with a weak smile. “For you guys, I think it can still be,” he said with a wry smile. “That would be amazing,” I said. Amanda and I both ordered burgers and I got a 10% IPA because, you know, it had been a day and that sounded like a great way to round it out. The burger was AMAZING. I really don’t think it was the rabbid hunger talking, this burger was one of the best on the trail. Not quite better than Yaks, but easily #2 or 3 on the trail so far. While we ate, we asked the bartender if he knew of anywhere we could sleep. We had heard the campground was full and that there might be a state campground about a mile or so up the road - but walking was going to be rough after a 25 mile day. “Tell you what,” the bartender said, “ you see the volleyball court behind you.” We turned and, sure enough, there was indeed a green space with a volleyball net behind us. “I don’t generally offer this out, so please don’t post it, but feel free to stay there tonight so you don’t have to walk the road out tonight.” We thanked him profusely and he just smiled before getting back to the large group of regulars. We ate, talked and drank for another hour before the bar eventually started to shut down. We helped turn up the chairs in the bar before saying thanks again to the bartender/owner and making our way out to the nice volleyball court, setting up our tent next to a large propane tank. Clouds were forming overhead and a front was making itself obvious out west of us. “I think we should probably put the rainfly on tonight,” I said to Amanda. “You mean the rainfly that doesn’t work?” Amanda said back, half joking. “Yea…” I replied “that one.” Another 15 minutes had us set up and on our backs, with full stomachs looking up at the inside of the rainfly. We both fell asleep shortly after as the first raindrops began to fall from the sky.

The face of chippy-ness

Day 106: Back into the Sierra

8/29/2023

Section: Milepost 1319.1 to 1293.6

Total Trail Miles: 1646/2650

Distance: 25.63 Miles

Moving Time: 10:54 hrs

Elevation Gain: 3,009 ft

There was…a bird this morning. It sounded like a car alarm. I love birds - I love all birds, but this one just made my shit list. I don't really know why it felt like it needed to scream that early - like, what was it trying to accomplish. No other birds are up and neither is the sun. On the other hand, my pad stayed inflated all night - #Blessed.

The stage today starts with a short climb out of the saddle where the previous day had ended before continuing along the same ridge for two miles and then sinking into a second saddle where a trail shoots off to Little Cub Spring. From the second saddle the trail continues south, straddling a ridge as it goes. At the 6 mile marker, the PCT crosses Humboldt Road where it turns due east and crosses high on the northern flanks of Humboldt Peak before turning back south and continuing along a narrow ridgeline. The path circumvents Locke Peak and crosses Humbug Summit road at 12.3 miles and climbs up to go over Snow Mountain ridge before it begins a long and brutal descent into the dramatic Chips Creek drainage.

We were up and moving by 6:30 this morning after some caffeine and grits! That’s right, I had a little warm breaky this morning. We made our way in the early dawn light dodging between short outcroppings of volcanic rock and catching beautiful glimpses south of us. Much like the day after Walker Pass, the big mountains out ahead of us are coming into sharp contrast, promising lots of epic Sierra scenery in the pipeline. About an hour and a half into the day brought us past the 2 eastern European lads just starting to break camp near Humboldt road. We waved and said good morning before continuing on. Lightweight caught up to us shortly after and we hopscotched with her throughout most of the rest of the day.

The day was cool, clear and uneventful. The burn remained prevalent but pockets of surviving trees were becoming more and more common as we made our way south. At mile 19 we stopped at Obsidian spring where, again, the new water filter CRUSHED through the water. So, so, SO nice to have a working filter again. As we sat and ate, bemoaning the remaining 6 miles we had, two big ol’ bumblers alighted on my leg and started to mill around. “What are they up to,” I said to Amanda. “They must like the salt,” she said with a grin on her face. “Guess so,” I said back. I waited a few minutes for my new friends to get their fill of whatever it was they were getting their fill of before we reshouldered our backpacks and started off south again.

Not far beyond Obsidian spring we ran into a sign I had been looking forward to almost more than the official halfway PCT sign - the demarcation for the northern border of the Sierra. That’s right - there is a sign denoting the rough border between California’s northern volcanic third and middle granite third and what a site it was. We were both giddy to be back in the Sierra though, looking around, nothing much seemed to have changed. Our giddiness was cut short buy the next 5 miles of descent however. Steep and strewn with loose and irritatingly spherical rocks, the descent took our moving rate way down as we struggled to avoid taking a fall with our still very heavy packs. On down we marched, eventually getting passed by the eastern European guys and the short couple, who introduced themselves as Joe and Sarah from New England. Shortly after, we walked through swarms of dragonflies in the midst of what must have been a feeding frenzy or something. I mean, no joke, like thousands of beautiful dragonflies buzzing around like crazy - I wish I had been in a better mood to enjoy it.

Around dusk we finally stalked into camp, confirmed by the presence of Joe and Sarah already setting up. I left Amanda to get the tent going and walked down to fill up water. A few nice rocks near our tent pad made a nice shelf to get things set-up and going. We made dinner, the pain from the brutal late day retreat finally subsiding before laying our laundry out to dry and crawling into bed.

Day 105: PCT Midway Point

8/29/2023

Section: Milepost 1332.4 to 1319.1

Total Trail Miles: 1620/2650

Distance: 13.04 Miles

Moving Time: 05:42

Elevation Gain: 2969 ft

We woke up at 5:30. Funny thing about town days is, we don’t actually sleep that well and it's difficult to sleep in as much as we think we would like to the night before. The post office wasn’t going to open until 9 and there was no guarantee the package was going to get there right at opening anyway so we had a bit of a lazy morning.

We headed down to get breakfast at a place called Lola’s. The restaurant was frigid, but the chilaquiles were amazing! The shorter couple we had met at the hydroelectric station 4 days ago were coming in as we left. With some time still before the post office opened we made our way over to the grocery store where we filled up on goodies for the long push ahead.

Amanda and I had discussed and mutually agreed on a strategy for the rest of California. August was coming to a close and my sister, Claire’s, wedding was coming up in early October. We have larger packs which allows us to stretch time between resupplies, so our strategy going forward will be to go as far as we can between supply points and only stop at larger, convenient towns. The next stretch we have planned is from here, in Chester, to South Lake Tahoe (technically, Placerville, because we have some friends of friends who want to host us at their house there). This stretch, from here to SLT, is about 10 days, including today, with a few minor resupply options along the way, so we loaded up big time at the grocery store.

While we grocery stopped I repeatedly checked in on the last REI package we were waiting to arrive. This one was important, as it FINALLY had a replacement Sawyer in it, so we aren’t leaving it behind. It has been 20 days of hell but we are finally getting a replacement for this stupid thing. As we were checking out I was notified that the package was waiting at USPS, so I ran over to the post office while Amanda went back to the hotel room to organize our groceries. Back at the hotel room, we loaded our bags, checked out and headed out to the street to look for a hitch.

After 20 minutes or so we were picked up by a kindly old lady in a silver accord who motioned for us to put our stuff in the back of her car. We got in and she introduced herself as Karen and said she loved giving rides to the hikers. As we sped up the highway she talked about the fire and how she was part of a swing dancing group that met during the week to dance in the park. She was adorable. Eventually we reached the trailhead and we traded spots with a group of NOBO’s coming off the trail. We did our warm-ups at where we had ended the day before and set off south for the long stretch to Lake Tahoe.

Today’s stage was a short but stout one. It starts with a short, flat sprint south of State Route 36, crossing Soldier Creek before committing to a long and steady climb up the northern flanks of Butt Mountain - yes, that is literally its name, Butt Mountain. Someone took the Butte joke a little too literally. The trail climbs 1600 feet in about 8 miles before traversing a ridgeline for 2 miles and descending to the head of the Carter Creek drainage.

We crossed the road and got back on the trail. The path was flat and we made good time for a tiny bit but then ran headlong into Soldier Creek. It looked like, at one time or another, there had been a decent bridge across the marshy, meandering waterway but that bridge was gone and, irritatingly, we had no choice but to forge. Off came the shoes and into the squishy mud of the creek we went. On the other side we threw on our sandles and walked in them for a bit. Just before we reached the beginning of the climb we ran into some more familiar faces - Charlie and Company, who we had not seen since before Tehachapi. We stopped and talked to them for a while. They had gone straight through but had just hit the midpoint of their trip which, in their case, was the actual midpoint so they were in great spirits. We wished them luck and dropped some Chester beta on them before heading our separate ways.

At a mile and a half in, the trail turned upwards and we started the long march up Butt Mountain. The sun burned bright and we had no real coverage due to the fire but a cold front was taking the edge of the temperatures which made things bearable. On and on we climbed, commenting on all the little trees coming up through the scorched earth. At 7.7 miles we hit the halfway marker and stopped to take some pictures. A couple of guys from eastern europe were just leaving as we arrived so we said hi and talked for a bit. We wrote our names in the register at the marker then firmly closed the lid on the box before heading on.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. The temperatures dropped throughout the afternoon. Towards the end of day, the trail meandered along a ridge dotted with stacks of squat, volcanic rock. We came across the short couple we had seen in the morning at breakfast and decided this would be a good place to crash. We stopped at the Carter Creek trail junction and I left Amanda setting up the tent to get water, which was about half a mile down the Carter Creek trail. Nothing better than putting in a day of hiking only to hike a little more for water. The bright side is that the new filter is AMAZING. So fast. I came back to find Amanda had gotten everything sorted and we enjoyed a solid meal of ramen with shredded beef before passing out with nighttime sounds of the forest starting to come alive.

20 Yards of mud really takes the momentum out of a day

Day 104: Chester, CA

8/28/2023

Section: Milepost 1342.5 to 1332.4

Total Trail Miles: 1607/2650

Distance: 10.74 Miles

Moving Time: 4:04 Hrs

Elevation Gain: 1480 ft

Click here for current location

Last night I peed out of my side of the tent. This might be TMI but my side tent door is, for all intents and purposes, no longer functional. I can open it a tiny bit but that’s all and if I want to leave I have to crawl over Amanda, which is irritating for all involved, so this morning, at 2 am, I woke up and had to pee and said f*&% it, i’m not doing that and just peed out the small opening in the door. It’s not pretty and it’s the patriarchy at work but it’s what happened.

The stage today climbs steeply up from Domingo Springs campground via a vast saddle between North Stover and Ice Cave Mountain. The path peaks at just over 6000 feet and 3.7 miles in before paralleling West Stover road for some time. The PCT crosses Stover Springs road before dumping down off the south side of the plateau to a lower plateau where it meanders the last few miles out to State route 36.

The morning was a bit chilly, which was great for sleeping - I have really appreciated some cooler nights recently, but maybe not so great for getting a move on. Despite that, we were up and off by 6:30, both making use of the pit toilet before we left. As we turned left on CR11 to find that overgrown access trail we had come in on, we ran into Skull and Crossbones and Lightweight. They had decided to hike into Chester on the road (CR11) since it ran straight into town and cut some miles off. Theys asked if we wanted to join them. We said thanks but that we were planning on sticking with the trail and said we would catch them in Chester. We headed up the road and quickly found the little trail we had used the night before and were soon back, speeding down the PCT. We scrambled up the early day climb, constantly crossing busy logging roads. The sound of heavy trucks was incessant. We would find out later that day that logging companies were actively trying to pull out as much of the burned timber as they could before it was no longer viable lumber. 90 minutes brought us to the top of the saddle between North Stover and Ice Cave Mountain and we dropped quickly from there down to the upper plateau. From up here we could see State Route 36, which quickened our pace a bit.

We descended off the plateau and made our way across the lower bench - running into a few elderly hikers coming up from the highway. The burn was really bad here, almost nothing survived. 9 miles and 3.5 hours brought us down to the highway altitude and about 30 more minutes saw us exit to the highway.

As always, we ran into a few hikers getting back on at the trailhead and they gave us some beta on the breweries and food in Chester. Sounded like a pretty typical hiker town. We got our comfy shoes on and made our way to the westward side of the highway where we eventually flagged down a beat-up old red suv with an old timer behind the wheel. “Get on in!” he said, coming around the back to help us load our bags. Tragically, I broke my spoon in the chaos of loading up the bags - left it on the shoulder strap and it hooked the frame of the car as it was getting hauled in. Titanium is light but not super durable. The ride was about 20 minutes and along the way our driver told us all about the fire, about how he had been evacuated and about all the work that had been done to save Chester, which sat smack-dab in the middle of the burn zone. According to him, the town had almost been lost, but the fire had been stopped just inside the city limits by a herculean effort to keep it at bay. He also was the one who explained the crazy amount of log truck traffic on all the local USFS roads. In town, he drove us down the single stretch, pointing out all the places to eat and resupply and eventually dropped us off at our location for the night - the Antlers Hotel. As we rolled in, we recognized some familiar faces that we had not seen in a very long time. Two of the infamous Ride Brides, Rubie and Maddy, smiled back in recognition as we unloaded our packs from the old SUV. I tried to give our ride a few bucks but he turned me down point blank, saying that he always gave PCT’rs rides and never took any money. Amanda and I thanked him profusely before running up to give Rubie and Maddy big hugs. I left Amanda talking with Rubie, Maddy and the other 2 girls they were hiking with to go check in. After checking in, I picked up 2 Miller Lights that were hanging out in the hiker box and went outside to catch up with 2 of my favorite hikers on the trail. We sat with the 4 girls in front of Antlers for probably 2 hours catching up. The other two were named Wonka and Token. Token was from North Bend, so we had that West-side Washington connection. Maddy and Rubie had been bouncing all over the trail and were skipping the burn section down to somewhere around Buck’s lake to continue heading south. Eventually we said goodbye and good luck to them before finally heading to our rooms and getting cleaned up. Amanda showered first while I organized our gear then she went across the street to grab some deli chicky nuggets and beer while I showered. After eating, we went to the post office where I found out one of our boxes was not due to arrive until the next day, which was a let down, and ran into Lightweight who said the road walk had been a breeze. After that, we returned to Antlers to get laundry moving through and I waterboarded my Thermarest to find the holes which were leaving me on the ground at the end of every night. Turns out, my sleeping pad is starting to do the same thing Amanda’s was in the desert. One of the baffles towards the head location is starting to separate but, unlike Amanda’s, every time mine does it forms a new, small leak. I am now actively chasing this baffle with patches as it works its way across the pad. I am up to my 3rd patch and the leak continues to propagate. I also attempted to repair the tent zipper on my side with no luck - it’s FUBAR.

That night we went to dinner at Timber Brewery. Good beer and decent food. Afterwards we came back and did some digital catching up before passing out in clean sheets.

Day 103: Lassen Learned

8/27/2023

Section: Milepost 1371 to 1343

Total Trail Miles: 1597/2650

Distance: 28.4 Miles

Moving Time: 11:13 hrs

Elevation Gain: 3478 ft

Click here for current location

Today, I officially gave up on my coffee purge. I really tried and, honestly, I think I did pretty damn well. 103 days of *almost* no coffee, but in the box that my parents had sent was what my dad called “poor man’s mocha” which was a pack of ritzy hot chocolate mixes and Starbucks Via packets. This morning, I mixed these two things together with some hot water and *chef’s kiss* what a wonderful thing to start the day with.

Today’s stage starts on the banks of Hat Creek with a 1200 foot climb up the southern flank of Badger Mountain where it passes into Lassen National Park at the 4 mile marker. From here, the trail gets very fast as it meanders east and turns south in the shadow of the large cinder cone - Prospect Peak. At 11 miles, the trail junctions with the Bear Lakes and Rainbow lake trail, in quick succession, before meandering along the banks of several lakes, including Lower Twin and Swan lake. At mile 16.5, the trail crosses Kings Creek and climbs a bit before making a steep descent down Flatiron Ridge to a road near Drakesbad Trailhead road. The path climbs up off the road and eventually reaches Boiling Springs Lake and Little Willow Lake at mile 22.5 where it leaves Lassen National Park behind and starts the long descent down to Domingo Springs Campground which was our destination for the night.

We were up, fed, caffeinated and out by 5:18 this morning - what a rush! The older couple left just ahead of us. Gotta say - bringing your food into your tent for the night goes against everything i’ve ever been told about backpacking but it does make getting going in the morning a whole lot more speedy. Still don’t think we are going to do it, but I get it. Lightweight was still asleep when we left but we figured we would see her somewhere along the way given her pace. We climbed for the first 2 hours of the day, appreciating the cool morning air as we exerted ourselves. Along the way, we spotted a few tents tucked back into the trees at the boundary of the park boundary. Just before entering the park, we passed the older couple and said good morning to them. They seemed nice, if a little standoff-ish. At the park boundary the light was just starting to come up and we stopped for a quick picture in front of the backcountry sign before heading in.

From the northern boundary of the park we noted two things. One - the trail was smooooooth and so fast. We cooked through the 1st half of the day. The second was that the fire damage was apocalyptic. Lassen was absolutely devastated by the fire but, despite that, life is already starting to come back and the small but silver lining is that the fire opened a lot of views onto the mountain itself throughout the park. We sped east and then south. As the day warmed up we started to notice lots of bees tucked into flowers and leaves on the foliage along the side of the trail. I had forgotten that bees do this - they don’t always go back to their hives at night and will sometimes sleep inside flowers. Amanda and I stopped to peek into a few flowers where little bee butts could be seen poking out. I don’t know why but this little discovery put us both in a great mood.

At about 4 hours in, we came alongside Lower Twin Lake and said hello to a set of weekend backpackers who had stayed by the lake that night. At Swan lake, a little bit on, we stopped for some snacks - Skittles and teriyaki sticks, which Amanda and I now affectionately call “Pocky Yackies.” Lightweight caught up to us and we chatted for a while before she took off ahead of us. We followed her as the trail dove off a small plateau and entered the King Creek canyon with Mt. Lassen rising up above us. The trail crossed a few marshes which had encouraged a bit of over growth on the trail before reaching the main crossing of King Creek at mile 16.5. Here Amanda stripped off her shoes to cross while I found a nifty little log up the creek and a ways to cross over. On the other side, we found Lightweight waiting and we stopped for lunch. A group of hikers from San Jose came down an intercepting trail and peppered us with questions as we ate and we talked with them for 15 minutes. They also wanted some pictures with us so we got to our feet to take part and then we went our separate ways up the trail.

The trail climbed out of King Creek to the top of Flatiron Ridge, gaining about 300 feet in the process. The climb wasn’t bad but the day was, again, in the low 90’s which made every step take just a bit more effort. At the top of Flatiron ridge we stopped to take in the views. The burn was bad but, honestly, not as bad as some of the NOBO’s had made it seem. Everything was bright green. After the junction with Bench Lake trail the PCT nosed down and made a quick drop to Drakesbad hot springs and Warner Valley Hot Springs. From here, we climbed back up to Boiling Springs lake where Amanda and I stopped to go look at the boiling lake of volcanic mud. It smelled strongly of sulfur and you could clearly see places where people had walked past the “Do Not Cross” signs to get down closer to the banks of the lake. Not really sure what was down closer that you couldn’t see from the viewpoint but whatever it was, it probably wasn’t worth dying in boiling water for.

After some pictures and a few carrots, we muscled on. There wasn’t really a predetermined endpoint for today. We would be making it to Chester tomorrow so, as had been the case in many pre-NERO days before, the idea was to bite off as much as we could for our exit day tomorrow. We continued on and reached Little WIllow Lake about an hour later. We considered staying there but Nicola had told us he had stayed in the area on his journey north and, in the night, had woken up to a sound so strange and eerie he had packed up and left at 2 in the morning. Multiple comments on FarOut confirmed hearing something similar. Between that information and the multiple large, dead trees surrounding the semi-established campsite, we decided to eat dinner there and push on 5 miles to Domingo Springs Campground. We set up on a flat tent pad and I went in search of the spring that had become very obscured by the mid-summer overgrowth. Along the way I made friends with a few frogs. As we sat and ate dinner a few familiar faces came through including Skull and Crossbones and the couple we had met two days before, just south of the little hydroelectric power station. We talked a bit but both kept moving. Tonight we had some Peak Performance meals which are awesome because they require very little water and are almost all over 1000 calories.

After dinner we packed up and continued our hike through the burn. It was definitely hotter on the south side of the park but pockets of green pervaded here and there. We went up and over two small humps in elevation but eventually reached the long descent. Just at the inflection point, before heading down, I got some reception and called into Chester to reserve a hotel as I had heard it might be difficult to find one. I connected with the Antlers Hotel and reserved a night as we passed the younger couple setting up for the evening.

From here we reached what I think of as the “Zombie March” at the end of the day. Basically your body is done and really wants to stop but you just keep moving your legs forward. The sun eventually set as we neared the bottom of the descent and we started looking for the little exit trail out to the campground. At 27.6 miles, I found what appeared to have been a trail and we bushwhacked our way out to CR311 where we walked the last quarter mile into Domingo Springs Campground. At the campground Amanda set up the tent while I went out to the spring itself to fill up. We took full advantage of the picnic table to organize our things and I enjoyed a delicious stout I had packed from Old Station. Since we had already eaten dinner, we wasted no time in crawling into the Big Agnes and passing out.

Entry to Lassen

Day 102: Old Station

8/26/2023

Section: Milepost 1392 to 1371

Total Trail Miles: 1569/2650

Distance: 22.34 Miles

Moving Time: 08:30

Elevation Gain: 1378 ft

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Today was a sprint to Old Station. The post office in this tiny northern California town opens from around noon to 3 pm on Saturdays throughout the PCT season to allow hikers to still get their resupply without having to stay overnight. What this meant was that we had to do over 17 miles by around 1 pm in order to get my mom’s resupply package. Doing the math, I had told Amanda that we needed to be up and moving before 5 am today to reach Old Station in time. We both hated it but made it happen.

Today’s stage starts on the same volcanic bench we had stopped on the night before. The trail tiptoes along the edge of the bench for 11 miles, paralleling FSR 34N34 most of the time before making a pit stop at a scenic viewpoint and bathroom just off of Old Station Road 44. From here, the trail descends steeply into the canyon, dropping 800 feet in less than a mile and begins a slow meander along its floor. At the 13 mile mark, the trail crosses Route 44 before, a mile later, climbing a stout grade up to near the Spatter Cones Trailhead at mile 15. The trail then crosses south under the watchful gaze of a small cinder cone before paralleling State Route 89 the rest of the way into Old Station, which most hikers enter via the Hat Creek Resort and RV Park. The last 4 miles of the day compose a tumultuous climb up to the border of Lassen National Park, which most PCT hikers camp just outside of to avoid carrying a bear can in this section.

We woke at 4 and were indeed out before 5 am. We left the analysis-paralysis couple behind and made our way south in the predawn light, the open expanse of Hat Creek canyon opening below and west of us, ranches dotting its floor. I heard a rumor later that the PCT was originally supposed to go through the floor of this canyon but private interests had lobbied against it in the 70’s and ultimately got the trail rerouted up onto the high plateau we were currently walking. It would have made for an easier day yesterday but the high vantage point at least made for some nice views today. The sun started to come up around 5:30 casting beautiful light on the trail ahead. Today was our first contact with the Dixie fire, which became evident as we progressed along the canyon rim. The Dixie fire was a massive fire that occurred in the summer of 2021 and extended from today’s stage, near Old Station, all the way south to Buck’s Lake. For perspective, today was the first of 6 days that we would hike entirely though the burn zone left over from this fire - it was catastrophic. Most of Lassen National park was wiped clean from this fire and some PCTers now choose to skip this section all-together to avoid hiking in the devastated zone.

We hiked on, making a strange little U-turn at about 2 hours in to stay along the edge of the canyon. Here, the strange acquaintance we had made yesterday caught up to us and passed us without a word. We crossed over a few cattle guards and continued to meander south. State route 44 came into view and it wasn’t long before we came upon a very new built viewpoint with bathrooms. We hiked past and soon found ourselves on the steep descent into the canyon. We started down and, about halfway, my feet skated out from under me and I found myself on my ass. Amanda gave me a worried look before she saw me smiling. This might have been my first non-snow related fall on the trip so, felt like I was due for one. We found the bottom about 20 minutes later and the trail flattened out on a landscape dotted with small cinder cones. A little more walking along the canyon floor brought us to the true edge of the fire at a small campground that wasn’t on the map but had a pit toilet and box of goodies for the hikers. Amanda and I rooted through the box and located a can of WINCO refried beans which put a huge smile on our faces because, well, WINCO is the best. We sat and ate the beans and made use of the pit toilet while commenting on the fire before reshouldering our packs and moving on.

We crossed Old Station road around 10 am and considered walking into town on the road but I had heard it was better to head up to Hat Creek Resort and RV Park and go into town there because that was where the post office was, so we continued on. The day was getting hot, we hadn’t hit noon yet and it was already 97 degrees so, when we came to the last little climb, we were not stoked with the heavy grade that met us there. We lumbered up the 3 or so hundred feet, listening to 2-stroke engines whine up and down the gravel roads that criss-crossed the area and eventually found ourselves back on level ground. We followed a barbed wire fence for a while before reaching the turn-off for Hat Creek Resort and RV Park.

We made our way into the resort, looking longingly at some of the large 5th wheels parked in the full hook-up spaces and eventually navigated out to state route 89 and Old Station. While technically not at the heart of Old Station, the Hat Creek Resort and RV Park is situated right next to the post office and so gets most of the hiker traffic. It also hosts a gas station with a very small cafe in the back where you can order their “famous” Chicken and Waffle Sandwiches. We came around to the front of the little store and dropped our packs at a picnic table where the guy with whom my joke hadn’t landed the day before was already sitting down. We said “hi” to each other and went in to get beers and a chicken and waffle sandwiches. We came back outside and enjoyed our meal while talking with the guy who I found out was most recently living in Portland. Amanda and I referred to him as “Skull and Crossbones” because of the tattoo on his calf. After eating our sandwiches, which were “meh,” I went over to the post office and picked up my mom’s package which weighed in at a solid 22 pounds. I also got a chance to see Sheryl Strayed's note about her time here in the early 90’s. Oddly enough, she also encountered heavy snow and had to do quite a bit of walking on forest service roads. In the Old Station entry she also mentions some friends whom she had separated from and was trying to reconnect with. It was crazy to think that here, almost 30 years later, we were facing some of the exact same challenges and thinking some of the exact same thoughts as she was. It is a true testament to the trail that, despite all that has changed in our world, it continues to offer the same experience it always has. I looked through some older pages, going back into the 80’s for a while before returning to the table to excitedly tell amanda about the entry and relieve her to go take a look. When she returned, I went back into the store for some more drinks and came out to find her and Skull and Crossbones talking with an older guy in a dodge pick-up. The guy was an ex US Forestry manager and had lots to say about the Dixie fire and how it was (or in his opinion wasn’t) well managed. He asked if there was anything we needed and Skull and Crossbones asked if he could leave a prepaid USPS flat rate box with him to bounce forward and I asked if he could take me down the road to another gas station for a butane cartridge since ours was now out. He said yes to both and I hopped into his truck, leaving Amanda to watch the bags. 5 minutes down the road brought us into Old Station proper and I jumped out at Gordons Old Station Ranch and Country store where they had gas and a familiar face walking through the aisles - Light Weight. “Hey!'' I said with a smile. She was working on her third milkshake and I asked if she wanted a lift up the road to the Post Office since I was headed back anyway. “Sure!” she said “I didn’t really want to walk up there in this heat anyway.” Back at the truck we loaded up and another 5 minutes brought us back to Hat Creek Resort and RV Park. We climbed out and she said high to Skull and Crossbones, whom she recognized from a few days before. I got Amanda and I a milkshake, since Lightweight’s looked really good, and she got a fourth one while we sat and chatted for a while.

At around 3 pm, Amanda and I finally decided we needed to get a move on or risk getting vortexed into Old Station. We didn’t have a bear can so had to get all the way through Lassen the next day. The plan was to get as close to the northern boundary of the park as possible. Lethargically, we pulled on our packs, said “see ya soon” to Lightweight and made our way down the trail. The day was hot, our stomachs were filled to the brim and the climb up out of Hat Creek Resort and RV Park was hell but we ambled on, heading south across the labyrinth of USFS roads that crisscrossed this area. At around 20 total miles on the day we crossed USFS 32N12 and a short distance later the gurgle of Hat Creek could be heard. About 5 more minutes brought us to a beautiful, big campsite on the eastern shore of the creek where we called it a day. The sun was still out and the water was wonderfully cool. We set up camp and started food now that we had a full gas canister to cook with. I took a dip and convinced Amanda to at least get her feet wet. This was my second favorite swimming spot so far! Eventually Lightweight caught up to us as well as an older couple before we turned in for the night. The white noise of the creek lulled us into a quick and sound sleep.

Day 101: Cruisin’

8/25/2023

Section: Milepost 1419.4 to 1391.9

Total Trail Miles: 1547/2650

Distance: 28.14 Miles

Moving Time: 10:36

Elevation Gain: 3156 ft

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Today was our biggest day to date (excluding my Spot incident outside of Tehachapi) and most of that was because of really perfect conditions in the first half… and the fact that we had to get to Old Station on the 26th to get our mail.

The stage today starts with 6 miles of very flat and highly cruise-able path which cuts across the bottom of a basin. The views today are very volcanic as we make our way closer to Lassen National Park. Around 7.5 miles in, the path gains a small rise and then drops down to Baum lake, where there is a municipal hydroelectric station and fish hatchery. After the power station the trail is all up, and up and up…for the rest of the day. Between miles 11 and 17 the climbing is very uniform as it passes through covered lava beds under short scrubby trees and crosses a few paved roads, all the while approaching an incredibly distinct wall in the distance. 17 miles in brings one to the foot of that imposing wall, before the trail goes straight up it to reach the top. Once on top, the path turns south-southeast and continues to climb. After 24.5 miles, the PCT crosses Bidwell Road where one of the only, and therefore highly critical, water caches is maintained by local ranchers. From the water cache, the trail climbs up a short distance more and parallels USFS 35N14 before arriving at a radio tower which served as the terminus for our stage today.

We woke around 5:30 this morning. Things start a little easier in an actual campground. We packed and I enjoyed some more decaf coffee while Amanda had some tea, all while sitting at a picnic table! I am calling it on my tent side’s door zipper- it’s dead. I had been making it work the last few nights, babying it along, but now it’s totally unworkable. Really hoping I can get it fixed in Chester because sleeping with an open tent zipper next to your face is…well, it’s cowboy camping!

We departed at 6:40. Most of the people in the campground were NOBO’s and left about the same time. The trail was incredible here, on the same level of quality as the trail out of Mt. Shasta. For the first 4 or 5 miles we tracked along at 3 mph, which is really good for us. The terrain as we crossed above the Highway 89 and State Route 299 intersection was scrubby and dotted with oak trees, which was a change from the conifers we had descended through the day before. Three and a half hours brought us up and down to the banks of Baum Lake where the PCT shares its route with a little nature trail hosting quite a few retirees out and about this am. At the south end of Baum Lake, we stopped at the hydroelectric station, heeding the warning from signs that suggested water levels could change drastically near its outlet. We pumped ourselves some fresh water and ate a snack. As we were resting in some shade another SOBO came by and asked if we knew where the PCT was. “You’re on it,” I joked, which wasn’t received super well. I realized quickly that he probably thought we were NOBOs and should, therefore, know where the trail goes behind us since he figured we had come from there. “We’re SOBO’s as well,” I said quickly, “I think the trail is behind us.” He walked on without another word. “Whoops,” I said to Amanda “not making friends today.” We loaded up on 3 liters of water each before heading back out on the trail. The day was hot and we weren’t going to get to water until the cache around mile 24.

The nice track we were on for most of the morning gave way to lava rock and heavy sun exposure shortly after the power station. Another couple passed us heading south as we left and shortly after I saw another baby rattlesnake. I did not tell Amanda because I did not want her to worry. As we continued on I tried to get my battery charged given, you know, all the great rays coming down on us but when I checked it about an hour later it was starting to blink in weird patterns, potentially signaling overheating - I just cannot win with this thing. Small buttes could be seen as we made our way east, prompting no small number of Butte jokes between the two of us. We reached the wall, about the same time temperatures reached their max for the day and began climbing. About 30 minutes of straining upwards on switchbacks brought us to the top of the wall. I gotta say - it’s weird to walk along relatively flat ground most of the day only to suddenly hit a wall and have to go straight up it. Take a look at the Strava map, it's an extremely defined feature in the middle of otherwise flat ground. I have no idea what caused it but Amanda and I decided to just chalk it up to “Volcanoes” and leave it there.

On top of the wall we turned south and paralleled the lip of the wall heading towards Lassen National Park. Our pace had slowed, but we eventually reached the water cache and sat to fill up. We figured out the spigot and sat to filter. We tried to talk with a guy who was already there eating dinner but it didn’t take long to realize he was a pretty weird dude. We are really finding, in this Northern California section that, with a few notable exceptions, there is a strong inverse relationship between hiking pace and social aptitude. In any case, we let the conversation die and decided to watch the beautiful yellow finches play in the puddles of water at the bottom of the cache instead. Before leaving, Amanda made the executive decision that we should eat dinner before closing out the last 3 miles so we broke out the stove and started heating some water. About 30 seconds before reaching the rolling boil we generally accept as “clean” the roar of the flame started to die and, not long after, the flame went out altogether. With the flame, so too went the light out of Amanda’s eyes. So tonight, for the first time on the trail, we cold soaked ramen and I have to say - mad respect for the ultra-lighters who make that their nightly meal on the trail. For those unfamiliar with the practice, there is a subset of ultralight thru hikers who save space and weight in their packs by forgoing the stove and, instead, soak their ramen in a Talentini container about 1 hour before it’s time to eat, hence - cold soaking. It’s not terrible, to be honest. Ramen has so much salt in it that I think it would be tasty under any condition but when you are prepped for a nice, hot Peak Refuel, cold ramen is a real let down.

We ate, packed and were under way. The trail meandered its way along the wall for another 2 miles. Amanda was done - 28 miles was a new record for us and she started looking for any spot along the trail we could pitch the tent and collapse. I pushed a little bit here, showing her the radio tower in the distance. “I read on FarOut that there were some spots under the tower.” Another 10 minutes brought us to the base of the tower where, indeed, there was a concrete pad and a gravel cleared space to set up a tent. We debated for exactly 30 seconds which was better before pitching the tent on the road. As we set up another couple came up behind us and started to search for a spot as well. They deliberated much longer, about 10 minutes. She seemed really concerned about her sleeping pad. Evidently the ultralight nature of her pad made it highly susceptible to popping on gravel but there weren’t many other options. They had finally picked a spot as we settled down for the night. “Great job today babe, 28 miles is awesome!'' I whispered once I was in the tent but she was already passed out.

Day 100: Rock Creek Dip

8/24/2023

Section: Milepost 1444.1 to 1419.4

Total Trail Miles: 1520/2650

Distance: 25.56 Miles

Moving Time: 09:32

Elevation Gain: 2326 ft

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Woohoo!!! Day 100! And we got up at 5:30 this morning!! Took us 90 minutes to get going but, you know, little victories. Quite a few NOBO’s came through while we were preparing to leave and 1 or 2 SOBO’s - weirdly busy this morning. We enjoyed some granola and I had some more delicious coffee crystals. IDK, drinking decaf coffee is kinda strange. It’s like drinking NA beers - your body expects a certain reaction that just isn’t there and it throws it off a little bit. In any case, we were up and out an hour earlier than the last 3 days, and that was nice.

Our objective today was Burney Falls State Park. The route stays pretty level for the first 12 miles, maintaining between 5000 and 5500 feet along the edge of a large basin. Relatively flat ground maintained on our left (west) while the earth seemed to give away on our right in a collection of deep river valleys - we are definitely in the heart of some geologically big volcanic activity. At Rock Creek, around mile 8, the first descent is reached, shortly after crossing Summit Lake Road. The trail descends about 400 feet onto the floor of a plateau before snaking across it, heading southeast and eventually switching down its southeast corner to where it crosses Rock Creek on a beautiful bridge. From Rock Creek, the PCT makes a short climb up and out to the southwest corner of Lake Britton where it crosses the “Pit Number 3” dam and traverses another half mile of flat ground to arrive, finally, at a primitive campground in Burney Falls State Park.

Our more specific objective today was to reach Burney Falls state park before the visitor center and small store closed at 6 pm. Gaia said it was 24 miles and we hiked at around 2.4 mph on a good day so it was going to be a minor miracle to make that happen but I am an over-optimistic person and was foolishly hopeful as we started out under lighting skies. The first half of the day was pretty flat as we made a good 25 minute mile pace. We did not encounter LightWeight on the way out so either she was out before us or really well hidden - probably the former.

About 2 hours into the day we ran into a 70 year-old woman named Miss Elegant. I think she was used to Thru Hikers blasting past her with a cursory “hello” or nothing at all so when we seemed open to talk she took some time to chat with us. Her name was Miss Elegant because she insisted on hiking with her pearl necklace, which she was keen to share with us and her goal was to hike the entire PCT in her retirement, summer by summer - going as far as she could each one. She told us she hiked about 6 -10 miles each day and had already completed the desert and some of the Sierra but was skipping the portions she still had there this summer for obvious reasons. She had a lot of cool stories and we told her she was a model for how we wanted to spend our retirement. During the storm, she had actually had to press her SOS button because she could not stake her trekking pole tent down well enough and it collapsed on her a few times and she started to get cold. After we had talked to her for 30 minutes or so we went our separate ways, wishing each other luck.

The trail continued to be very green-tunnely and we experienced some moderate blow-down but, other than that we cruised. Around noon I stopped on a ridge with Amanda and made a call to the Old Station post-office. We were scheduled to be in Old Station in 2 days, which meant a Saturday arrival. I had looked at FarOut and Google and was getting conflicting reports as to whether the Old Station post office was actually going to be open on Saturday or not so figured a phone call would be the best. The postmaster picked up the phone and I explained our situation. “Oh, that’s no problem - I will be open from 1 to 2:30 for package pick-up if you can get there by then. If not, I can probably work something out for you.” I told her that I thought we could do that and that what I really wanted was to see Cheryl Strayed’s entry in the log book and so we would leave extra early to make it. “Sounds good!” she said in a kind voice before hanging up. I explained the situation to Amanda and that we would likely have to get up around 4 am, which earned me a solid eye-roll before putting in an order to REI for freeze-dried meals, zipper conditioner and tent sealant. Our next stop was Chester in 4 days and I was hoping I could make some field repairs on the tent there. The zipper was really starting to act up and I was worried it wasn’t going to be functional much longer.

We carried on from the ridge, dipping back into the trees. The rest of the afternoon passed without much incident. Mostly hiking in a tunnel, occasionally passing out onto exposed ridges where you could see out a bit. At the 11 mile mark we started the long slide down to Burney Falls state park. 4 miles after that we checked our water and noted we both had about half a liter left. I asked Amanda if I could hike ahead and get the filtering process started so that it would be mostly done by the time she got there. She said sure and I took off. I’ll be honest here, I ran. Amanda and I hike together - there’s really no point doing this as a couple if we meet up at the end of each day at some predetermined spot - but sometimes it’s fun to see what I can do. I cranked up the jams and, for 3.3 miles, kept up 16.5 minute miles down to the creek - it was a blast.

About an hour later, I rounded a corner and spotted a nice bridge over a beautiful creek, marking my filter location. I crossed over and found Green Bay hat guy coming up from down below. “Enjoy the creek,” he said as he jetted off south. I climbed down to the bottom and dropped my pack before digging out the 2 liter dirty water bladder and loading up my 3 liter platypus with fresh drinking water. I figured Amanda was about 20 minutes behind me and the creek looked very enticing so, after filtering and having a little snack, I found a nice spot where the water pooled in a little eddy and sat down in it to wait for Amanda to come by. Sure enough, about 20 minutes later I saw her coming down the path. She stopped on the top of the bridge and looked down at me, smiling, before she made her way down and got in as well.

We soaked for about 10 more minutes before begrudgingly getting out of the cool and wonderful water and reorganizing our things. As we headed back up to rejoin the trail I took one last look down on the little creek - it was a perfect spot, easily one of my favorite dips on the trail so far. After rejoining the trail we carried on south, climbing up and out of the ravine which hosted Rock Creek. The path flattened out before we descended into the Pit River ravine, crossed the Pit River Dam and, again, climbed up and back onto the shelf. As we climbed out of the Pit River ravine we ran into a local with jeans and his derpy little dog which ran headlong into Amanda's trekking pole as she stood to the side of the trail to let the pair of them go by. We all chuckled before heading off in opposite directions.

We made it to the little campground at Burney Falls State Park about an hour before sunset but, alas, not before the store closed - this all despite my indomitable optimism. A group of SOBO’s was already there, eating around a full picnic table. We set up our things and boiled up some ramen which Amanda then added some beef sticks to for protein. We took full advantage of the amenities afforded by staying at an established campground before wrapping up for the night and passing out.

Day 99: Bushwhack

8/23/2023

Section: Milepost 1468.2 to 1444.1

Total Trail Miles: 1495/2650

Distance: 24.66 Miles

Moving Time: 10:15

Elevation Gain: 4587 ft

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Today was another less-than-exciting day. These stages, on the south side of Mt. Shasta, are pretty low and all in the trees. There are some exposed ridges to see out from but it’s mostly ground pounding in the woods which, at least, allows for a faster pace. The route today goes entirely east and a little north. On the Pacific Crest Trail you have to get creative with the “wins” and for me today’s route is a win. That is because, if you zoom out on the PCT through Northern California, today’s stage marks the end of the “due east” travel we have been on since Day 95 and, while we continue to travel east from here, it is typically south and east. So… little victories.

Today starts on a due south trajectory as it runs the course out to the end of a ridge east of Butcherknife ridge before it turns east and north. The first 6 miles are composed of consistent climbing as the trail makes its way up and out of Deer Creek, eventually gaining Stout’s Meadow USFS Road at 5700 feet. From there, the elevation profile stays fairly steady, moving up and down as the trail traverses high above the impressive Kosk Creek basin. At mile 17, Mushroom rock is reached and the trail winds along a wide ridge, through the Bartle gap and ends around the 24 mile mark, where the trail crosses Summit Lake road.

Got another late start today - just tough with everything damp. By 8 am we were up, fed and out. The sleep last night was okay. I got a tad bit chilly but, given the conglomerated sleeping bag, wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t a cold night and the gurgling of the creek provided some nice white noise. Plus… I now have decaf coffee crystals. While digging through the hiker box at “The Fifth Season” in Mt. Shasta I discovered a glass container with decaf coffee crystals in it and what a score that was. I suppose someone probably abandoned them because they were trying something similar to me with the caffeine purge and just couldn’t do it anymore. I’ve thought about giving up too - the draw to make the mornings a little more supercharged is a strong one. This will probably be my gateway back to coffee if I'm being honest.

As we climbed up and out of Butcherknife creek and especially on the climb out of Deer Creek, we started to notice appreciable overgrowth on the trail. I always have to be careful to walk back a bit from Amanda. Usually I am right on her heels but the first time I get thwacked in the face by a branch that she inadvertently holds back to swing into my face I immediately draw back a little bit. We neared the top of the climb out of Deer Creek in around 3 hours and took a break on Stout’s Meadow road. The sun was really out now so we, again, brought out our tent and sleeping bags and laid them out to bake. As we tucked into our snacks a girl showed up on the trail and sat down with us to take a snack break. Her name was Light Weight and she was from Chicago originally but doing her residency in Boston. A guy we had seen briefly the day before with a Green Bay hat showed up but kept going and then, for the first time in 2 months, we ran into Twister and Husband, the 2 Czech guys we had gone back and forth with in the desert. They reached the road coming NOBO and we caught up with them for a bit. They had gone through the Sierra and were hoping they could avoid any fire closures ahead. We told them about the Etna bypass but that maybe it had been brought under control - we weren’t sure. After a bit we all went our separate ways, LightWeight leading the way South ahead of us.

As we traversed above the Kosk Creek basin, the overgrowth got pretty terrible. We weren’t cutting a path through it yet, but it was starting to get oppressive. We ran into a guy section hiking the Northern California Section of California and talked to him for a bit. He said the trail was generally in good condition but that the overgrowth would continue for another day or so, which we both groaned about and then told him he was almost out the other side. Along the ridge, we caught a few good glimpses of Mt. Shasta behind us; kinda weird we hadn’t seen it a little more over the last 10 days, there are definitely more views of it on the south side sections of the trail than on the north side. We passed Lightweight and continued on, eventually stopping at Bartle Gap to complete that dreaded activity - filtering water. Fortunately, LightWeight caught up to us and offered her filter when she was done. We gladly accepted and got the task done in a quarter of the time before we all continued another 4 miles down the trail.

Another hour and a half brought us through a cleared spot. The USFS had been doing a lot of clearing and there were quite a few slash piles laying around but towards the end we ducked back into low trees and skimmed along the top of a large basin with epic views looking west. The sun was setting and made the sky glow in beautiful pinks and purples.

The campsite was just on the outside of a nice little meadow and we set up on a large pre-cleared camping pad. We thought LightWeight had carried on a bit further but heard her voice and figured she was somewhere just ahead. I set up the tent and Amanda got the water going. We had carried it from the last fill-up spot as this campsite had been reported dry. That night, for the first time in 2 days, we crawled into a dry bag and reasonably dry tent and passed out with conviction that we would finally wake up early and get out on time the next day.

Day 98: Wet

8/22/2023

Section: Milepost 1485.8 to 1468.2

Total Trail Miles: 1471/2650

Distance: 18.31 Miles

Moving Time: 07:11

Elevation Gain: 2733 ft

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I have incurred a fair bit of mental scarring sleeping in tents in bad weather over the years. Two trips stand out in my mind anytime I slumber through a night of wind and rain. The first was about 7 years ago. My sister, Claire, had come up to Bellingham and Amanda and I had taken her up on one of our mid-summer, mid-week climbing trips in Squamish. For shelter, we packed a well loved but seemingly reliable 3-person REI tent with us to sleep under the stars after hitting the crags. Overnight, a massive rain storm rolled in from the Pacific and dumped on us. When it had started I hadn't really been worried since the rainfly was on and secured. At 3 am I distinctly remember letting my hand fall to my side and submerging itself in 3 inches of water. The bathtub was still waterproof…but not the fly. We packed up then and there, at 3 am and drove back across the border before the sun was up.

The second waterlogged memory was a trip with a group of friends to the Bugaboos in central BC. Weather reports had suggested clear skies on the night we were slated to sleep on a high granite shelf under the spires but as we were going to sleep a massive wet, warm and windy storm blew in. At the time we were letting our friends use our freestanding tent, which did not require an anchor on the rocky shelf, but Amanda and I were using our Hilleberg which, while a 4-season tent, required solid staking to work well and all we had was stacked rocks on the 4 corners, which broke down quickly in the wind. Throughout the night, the tent fell down 5-6 times and I had to run around constantly to get it set-up again.

These incidents have stayed with me throughout the years, so sleep was tough to come by last night. …And, maybe that was warranted because when I woke in the morning, rain still coming down, I again found a small puddle on the floor of the tent. This pissed me off to no end because, in the spring, I had sent our reputable Copper Spur into Big Agnes to be re-waterproofed. They had it for 3 months and almost didn’t get it back to us in time but when they did, they assured me the whole thing had been restored to factory waterproofing. This is what I thought about as I sat in the dim morning light watching a steady drip fall from a seam union above my door. I snapped a video to send to Big Agnes for proof when I got service again.

Amanda and I didn’t move too fast this morning. The rain had a paralyzing effect on both of us. We took stock in our things. The sleeping bags, already pretty damp before the night, were even more so now. The sleeping pads were also wet but that wasn’t a major issue, it just added to the overall dampness. Our rain jackets were still wet - there’s just no drying those things out when humidity is over 80% and temperatures stay below 45F. All in all, it was a slow and very wet morning.

Today’s stage does a whole lot of winding into and out of drainages, climbing throughout the first five and a half miles while doing so until it reaches a USFS road, Bald Mountain Road, at around 4000 feet. The trail continues to wind in and out of drainages heading south and then east while descending 1800 feet to Fitzhugh Gulch along the McCLoud River. From this low point, the stage parallels the river before it crosses the river at Ash Camp, ~13 miles in. The last 3 miles of the trail regain some altitude to Butcherknife creek where we camped for the night.

It was 08:45 by the time we had finished breakfast in our tent and bundled up our wet things. Putting drenched equipment into stuff sacks and tetris-ing it into a damp backpack is just, generally, a sickening feeling but there is nothing else for it so we made it happen. The only thing that might be worse is putting cold, wet socks back onto your feet. There just isn’t anything too wonderful about getting going in a puddle in the morning.

The stage started off in the trees, and then continued in the trees and just, generally, stayed in the trees all day. It was a green tunnel day and, accordingly, I don't have a lot to say about the actual walking part of it. About 2 hrs in, we stopped on the banks of Trough Creek. Some sun was popping through and we thought we might be able to dry out the tent at least, and maybe our sleeping bags. Two French guys sat on the other side of the creek trying to give their stuff some sun to dry as well. We hung everything from some branches over a stream and I attempted to backflush the Saywer. Both objectives were largely unsuccessful.

After about 45 minutes of sitting we realized nothing was going to dry or filter quickly. We packed up and got back underway. The rest of the day was uneventful and most of it was spent on low ground with very little view out so…good solid green tunnel day.

Due to the late start we didn’t get too far, only about 18 miles and stopped just a touch early to see if we could get our things to dry in the evening. At Butcherknife creek we crossed, walked another ¼ mile and pulled over to the right side of the trail at a nice series of campsites close to the creek. We hung our stuff in the trees, though it was cold and damp. Our hopes weren’t too high. Amanda set up the tent and I got the gravity filter system working. We had some time so we cleaned our stuff as we were able and eventually climbed into the tent for the night. My sleeping bag is still definitely damp and large sections have clotted down making it less than effective - thank goodness the nights are still warm.

Day 97: Walk in the Rain

8/21/2023

Section: Milepost 1502.3 to 1485.8

Total Trail Miles: 1453/2650

Distance: 17.7 Miles

Moving Time: 06:31

Elevation Gain: 2674 ft

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Well, we tried to enjoy sleeping in the bed last night but, according to Amanda, she almost fell off at several points. Just can’t make these 1st world sleeping conditions work for us.

We headed back to Yaks for breakfast. We had heard that their breakfast burritos were bomb - in fact, more people had talked about the burritos than the burgers so we figured they were worth a shot. At Yaks, we ate and took a few moments to write out a birthday card for my sister, Katie. The burritos might have been better than the burgers, whatever sauce they are cooking up in the back of Yaks is off the chain. We walked back through downtown Mt. Shasta taking a quick peek through the crystal shop. We also stopped by the post office to pick up a box from Amanda’s parents. I then went and chilled at the local coffee shop, 4 Seasons, while Amanda went to visit “Foot Jesus” at Mt. Shasta’s lone outfitter. We had heard about this guy all along the trail - supposedly he had worked magic on many hikers that had arrived on Mt. Shasta’s doorstep with wrecked feet. I got a cappuccino and, before long, Amanda had returned with fresh shoes and old ones to ship off from the post office next door. When she returned from that she informed me that the outfitters had been out of Sawyer’s but that I should go check in and see if there was anything that could “bridge the gap.” We made a call to Doc and I ran down to the outfitters, called 5th Season, and went inside. Indeed, they were completely out of Sawyer filters but, checking out the hiker box in the back, I did find a replacement backflush syringe. While not a replacement, this was good news. I had broken our syringe a week back, before Etna, making it impossible to even attempt backflushing anymore. At least a new syringe would allow me to attempt to fix the situation. I returned to the coffee shop and found Amanda talking with Doc. I put my backpack in the bed of the truck and got in next to Amanda.

As we drove back to the trailhead, Doc informed us that we were in for a bit of wet weather. It turns out that “Hurricane Hillary'' was making landfall on the coast and would be moving inland soon, making for a wet day or so. We laughed at the name and thanked Doc for the info. 30 minutes brought us back south to the trailhead where he dropped us off. We thanked and paid Doc before donning our rain gear and backpacks and rejoining the trail.

The path today was relatively short, given the late start. From I-5, the PCT makes a slow and very steady climb up from I-5 on the north side of Girard Ridge, eventually regaining the “crest.” After about 6 miles up high it descends back to Cabin Creek where the stage ends. Pretty simple day.

We walked Soda Creek Road for about a half mile before the pavement returned to dirt. There was some confusion when we encountered signs saying the road was closed until we realized that they were intended for NOBO’s and that the section we had come through just the day before was now closed so… bit of crazy luck there. The trail led quickly up from the Sacramento river and, wow, it was immaculately kept. After 4 months of hiking, Amanda and I have some strong opinions regarding trail conditions. We both agree that the absolute best is an Oregon style, pine-needle based loam that is spongy and supportive with limited rocks and roots. On this surface, you can cruise and put away some huge miles. The best grade is actually uphill, but very moderately uphill. This is the combination we found on the pull out of the Soda Creek Road area for most of the day today and we crushed. The rain, at least in the short term, helped a lot as well - it kept us cool so we could work a little harder without feeling the shift. After the heat wave that had dominated last week, it was a welcome change.

We climbed and climbed and eventually attained the ridge. The rain has a somewhat unfortunate advantage of making stops less-than-delightful, so those were few and far between which only improved our overall moving average. Once on the ridge, we navigated through a series of saddles and forestry roads before descending. The rain was light but relentless and about halfway through the day, it became apparent that our 5-year old jackets had lost their waterproofing. Re-waterproofing our gear was on the list of things to do in the spring, but given that we were expecting summer weather on the trail, it was low on the list of priorities…which means it didn’t get done and it showed. We both have decent rain gear but I’ll be the first to admit, I don't really know what “good” rain protection performance looks like. I guess, optimally, any precipitation that falls on a well performing piece of raingear should bead up and roll off the jacket. This wasn’t happening. It started with the beading but, as the rain continued to pour out of the sky, the jackets just took on a uniformly “damp” condition which could be felt in places where skin was directly exposed to the inside of those areas. Maybe this is actually how raingear is supposed to work - i don’t really know but it makes for a quick cooling effect whenever one stops moving so, we didn’t really stop.

Eventually, we reached Cabin Creek. Now for some reason, that I still haven’t figured out, both Amanda and I spent most of the day today with a clear understanding that there was, indeed, a cabin just upstream of where the PCT crosses cabin creek and that hiking through the rain wasn’t a big deal because there would be a hardened shelter at the end within which we could get ourselves nice and dry. It was not until we reached the crossing of cabin creek and started walking upstream to a location where we thought this sweet structure of salvation was located that we started to realize, neither of us had actually seen trail beta suggesting such a structure existed. The creek was just called Cabin Creek. Maybe there had been, at one time, a cabin located around the creek, but no more. We walked up the creek for about half a mile before we reached the Cabin Creek trailhead and found a nice pit toilet, but nothing anyone in a normal situation would consider sleeping in.

Standing at the parking lot we just kinda laughed at each other in the pouring rain. “Well that sucks,” Amanda said. “Yea, it really does,” I agreed. So we hiked back down about 50 yards to the creek where, under normal, dry circumstances, a series of really nice campsites would have stood established. In their current state, we just attempted to find the one with the smallest puddle and Amanda set up the tent while I found some water - not a difficult task under the current conditions - and got to filtering. As we unpacked, we were dismayed to find that our jackets weren’t the only thing that had suffered some integrity loss over the years. Our backpack’s rain canopies were also far from water proof, as evident in the general dampness found within as we brought our things out. Worse still was my sleeping bag. In a standard internal pack, the sleeping bag goes on the bottom and everything is stacked on top of it for a compressing effect. The problem was that, while the rain canopies weren’t the best at keeping rain out, they seemed to perform well at retaining it and mine had formed a sort of bowl where it wrapped under the bottom of the packs. Over the course of the day it actually collected water at the base of the pack forming a sort of pond which the sleeping bag then sat in. There is a little hole with a metal ringlet at the bottom of the canopy that is meant to prevent water hold-up in this way but it has to be perfectly positioned to let the water out and I had not done a great job at positioning it properly. The end result was a very damp sleeping bag and down fill, as good as it is at other things, clots when wet, drastically reducing the efficacy of the bag. So yea, it was in pretty sorry shape as i tried to lay it out on the base of the tent.

As we began to get things organized under cover we were startled to see a woman coming down the little hill from the parking lot. Given the current state of things, it seemed highly unlikely that anyone would be out here by their own freewill. She introduced herself and said she was also a thru hiker that had flown into Sacramento and was making her way back up into Oregon to finish up some sections she had missed. She said she was meeting someone at the trailhead the next morning and taking them with her and that she had beer if we wanted some - which I definitely did, so Amanda and I made our way back up to her car and took a few cans and some fruit, thanking her profusely. We talked with her for a while before descending back to our tent, in which we prepared and ate dinner before getting everything set for the evening.

Rain makes everything just, generally, more shitty. You need the vestibule to cook under and then you eventually have to get in the tent and drag a bunch of wet stuff inside with you. You can't hang your gear to dry really - it’s just all around not fun. The novelty on this first night was kinda fun but quickly wearing off already - everything had a generally damp feeling to it. We finished dinner and got our beds laid out in the tent. I always do the best I can but at 6’3, it’s rough moving around inside the little space. I try to keep my elbows in. We fell asleep listening to the incessant pitter-patter of rain overhead.

Day 96: Mt. Shasta

8/20/2023

Section: Milepost 1512.2 to 1502.3

Total Trail Miles: 1437/2650

Distance: 10.33 Miles

Moving Time: 03:55

Elevation Gain: 945 ft

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Today we finished our 5 day stretch to Mt. Shasta, excited to try what some had called the best burger on trail and maybe get a new, badly needed filter.

We slept okay last night - despite it being one of our least favorite sites. The stage today makes a quick out to I-5 at exit 726, south of Dunsmuir and Mt. Shasta. It continues down from where we stopped the night before, skimming below the large pinnacles that make up Castle Crags state park heading, generally, east before dropping all the way out to the highway where trail angels make the run between Mt. Ashland, Dunsmuir and the trail head.

We were up and moving just a touch earlier than the last few days, clocking a solid 7:45 am start. Baby steps, am I right? We ate a quick breakfast and had some tea before getting the hell out of our least favorite campsite on the trail so far. We descended, climbed a little bit and then started in on the long descent that would pervade through the rest of the day. The path continued down on some impressive switchbacks through oak trees that were, thankfully, snake free. Shooting off in either direction were various climber trails leading out to different craigs - another activity for another time. The trail eventually dropped to a road where California was, again, engaged in conducting some impressive fire prevention measures. The rest of today’s stage passed without incident and we eventually found ourselves on pavement, hiking out of the woods on Soda Creek Road looking up at I-5 and the cars racing by.

We picked a spot and made a call to Doc, one of the favorite trail angels of the Dunsmuir and Mt. Shasta area. He said he was just finishing a run back into Dunsmuir and would be down shortly to grab us. We took a seat in the parking lot adjacent to the southbound off ramp and waited. Soon enough, an older, black Chevy Silverado showed up and we threw our backpacks in before jumping in the cab. Already inside was a fellow SOBO who had come into Dunsmuir around 1 am on Amtrak from Ashland and was jumping on the trail to continue his hike. After Doc dropped him off on the east side of I-5, he rejoined the flow of traffic headed north. On the way back to Mt. Shasta Doc gave us the run down on the area and listened to details of our trek so far. He might just have been the best driver we rode with in California.

About 20 minutes brought us up to Mt. Shasta and 10 more minutes took us downtown where we were staying at the Bianca Inn. We thanked Doc, paid him and said we would likely see him the next day. We were a little early to the Bianca Inn but, as luck would have it, our room was ready so we checked in and got settled. I ran down to the grocery store while Amanda showered to grab a beer for myself and a soda for her. Once back, I took my own shower and we headed downtown to Yaks for a burger. Along the way, we passed by a public house style eatery where we saw the couple who had let us use their filter the day before. We waved at them and they waved back as we continued on up the street. At Yaks, we got in line and perused the impressive menu of burgers before putting our order in at the front. We waited a few minutes, chatting about Shasta and our 5 day run from Etna, before our meals came out. I gotta say - the hype was totally warranted. So freakin’ good - definitely the best on trail so far. Something about the sauce just edges it past Flip in Ashland. Once we were filled up, we walked back through downtown Mt. Shasta. I gotta say, this part of the west coast is...a mood. There is a general undertone of hard core nationalism and the desire to break free of the liberal overlords that run Oregon and California all permeated by…healing crystal shops and boutique whole foods stores. It’s like Granola MAGA operating on a healthy supply of recreational drugs. We got back to the hotel and I bought tickets to see Oppenheimer at Mt. Shasta’s little 4 screen cinema.

The rest of the afternoon we chilled and updated our social media streams before going to get dinner at the same eatery we had seen the two women at, called Pipeline. We both got salads, of all things, and ended up liking the others more than our own. I tried some delightful samples from the local craft brew scene and then we paid and made our way to the theater where we watched the marathon feature film that is Oppenheimer. Great movie though, honestly I didn't know much about this corner of American history. I ate SO MUCH POPCORN. Afterwards we walked back and passed out on a very comfortable mattress.

Day 95: Best of Times, Worst of Times

8/19/2023

Section: Milepost 1537.8 to 1512.2

Total Trail Miles: 1427 / 2650

Distance: 25.11 Miles

Moving Time: 09:54

Elevation Gain: 1696 ft

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You can really cruise when your total ele over 25 miles is less than 2000 feet. Gotta love these days.

Despite threatening skies when we went to bed, there was no thunder and lightning last night so we got some of that lux sleep. We woke next to the gorgeous lake, got ready to go and were out by around 8 am this morning so… couple of late starts these past days.

The stage today is gorgeous and features the beautiful Castle Crags state park just south of Mt. Shasta. The PCT starts today by making a small climb out of the Deadfall Lakes basin before staying very level through the middle half of the stage. After leaving the basin, the trail passes out of tree line for a little before crossing above Toad Lake to the south. Here the trail turns south and traverses along White Ridge, eventually crossing above the Fawn Spring basin. At mile marker 10.22, the PCT crosses NFS Road 40N45 and then Road 26 shortly after Blue Divide. At 13.2 miles, the stage crosses high above the 7 lakes basin with great views down into it while heading due east. 4 more miles brings on the border of Castle Crags wilderness and beautiful views down onto the main wall of Castle Crags before a huge traverse around the North Fork Castle Creek drainage - this time worth it because shooting straight across would mean several thousand feet of elevation gain and loss. The stage ends with a brutal descent into the North Fork valley.

We made our steady and short climb out of the lakes and eventually regained the crest. We had some beautiful views as the PCT passed abovef treeline - the cool air of the morning settling some of the smoke for us. The early part of the day passed uneventfully. Sometime in the morning we ran into a huge group of weekend warriors and were passed by a true-SOBO girl going too fast to have any time to talk with us. Gotta love those “more than a hobby” thru-hikers. Above toad lake we ran into a few women from Bend who insisted on taking a picture of us, which we obliged, before heading on.

About midday we stopped for another dreaded water filter session but, at White Ridge spring, I encountered 2 women already filtering and struck up a conversation with them. They were from Redding and doing some smaller sections of the PCT and offered to let me use their Sawyer when I mentioned that I hated filtering. The difference was night and day. I filtered 2 liters in less than a minute. “I have got to replace this thing,” I mused as Amanda showed up just behind me. We talked with the couple for a bit longer and they gave us some cheese, which was amazing. A woman we had met earlier came by with her incredibly well-behaved Belgian Shepherd who had found himself a nice stick to take home. We thanked the Redding couple and followed the Belgian Shepherd up the trail.

The middle part of the day passed without much to report. Loads more weekend warriors due to the many NFS roads and trailheads in the area. After about 6.5 hours, we reached the North Fork Castle Creek drainage traverse and stopped to take in the beautiful granite wall below us. In Siead valley, Niccolo had given us a few campsites that he recommended stopping at and this was one of them, one of his favorites and for good reason - it was beautiful. Unfortunately for us, the day was still young and we were exiting out to Mt. Shasta the next day which we wanted to make as short as possible, so we continued on.

The North Fork Castle Creek drainage traverse was brutal, mostly because it looked like it should have been quick but, in reality, it was about 6 miles and took a solid 2.5 hours to make happen. It’s frustrating to see your trail right there and have to hike for hours to get to it. In any case, we reached the far side and started down the steep section on impressively cut switchbacks into the North Fork Castle Creek valley. As we started our descent, Amanda caught sight of, to her chagrin, a critter we had not seen in a while - a baby rattlesnake. “Ugh,” she said “this day just took a turn.” It wasn’t long before I saw my own, heightening our fear that maybe we were seeing a recent hatch of new serpents - not a wonderful thought. As we descended further, the conifers gave way to oak trees. Not sure why, but oak trees, for me, heighten a certain creepy crawly feeling. I think some of it is that I associate oak trees with ticks but they also drop a lot of leaves which makes the forest more noisy and with the presence of snakes, neither of us was really stoked about the descent into the valley.

Eventually we ended our descent into what had quickly become Amanda’s hell, nearly stepping on another rattlesnake near where the spring should have been. It was at the spring, literally called Disappearing Spring, that Amanda said wryly “I know what’s disappearing - my patience” which made me laugh, even more so because she was not, exactly, in a humorous mood. We found some spots that had been cleared of oak tree leaves and made a very tentative set-up of our tent. As we finished setting up we heard something big traversing the lower section of the ridge about 50 yards from our tent site. Probably just a deer but we pumped our headlamps up to max to try and catch some sign to confirm that suspicion. We couldn’t find whatever it was between the oaks which just made everything even more uncomfortable. Finally, I begrudgingly decided to go find this water that was supposed to be about a quarter mile up the trail. It was now dark and Amanda said “Hurry back - this place gives me the creeps.” So I set of. About 20 yards down the trail my headlamp started blinking at me, indicating a low battery. I cursed and ramped it down to its lowest dimness and continued on. As I made my way up the trail I caught sight of a light and, as I approached, saw a single guy setting up his tent. We said hello and he said he had found the water and that it was just off the trail a little bit. I thanked him and headed in the direction he had pointed, watching the ground for snakes. Eventually, I found a gorgeous pool of water, like straight out of a Hollywood film set, and got to work filtering. When i had finished I stopped back by the guy and talked for a little bit. His name was Midnight because, as he said, “that’s when I started putting on sunscreen.” I thought Amanda would like hearing about a fellow Ginger’s trail woes. Conscious that she was holding the dark at bay by herself, I wished Midnight a goodnight and headed back down the trail soon finding that Amanda had retreated into the tent.

We made a quick dinner and skipped some of our other routines due to the general oppressiveness of the place before going to sleep.

First decent glimpse of Shasta

Stunna!

Castle Crag State Park