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
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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.