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

Click here for current location

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

Click here for current location

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

Day 94: Deadfall Lakes

Day 94: Deadfall Lakes

8/18/2023

Section: Milepost 1561.4 to 1537.8

Total Trail Miles: 1402 / 2650

Distance: 23.65 Miles

Moving Time: 09:00

Elevation Gain: 2631 ft

Click here for current location

Wow. Last night was a roller coaster. Before midnight a big ‘ol thunderstorm moved in overhead and dumped on us for about an hour. Lightning came down very close and Amanda, hating T&L storms as she does, was not stoked on the light show. Eventually, the storm passed and we passed back out until about 2 am when a diesel truck rolled through camp. Being alone in the campground and it being a weekday, the sudden arrival of the truck was a little alarming. The truck moved to the back of the campground. Generators were started and light bars were erected that lit the forest up like the sun. About 4 guys yelled at each other and laughed - a strong contrast to the dark, quiet forest we were inhabiting just 30 minutes before. I got up to take a look and then came back into the tent. “Not really sure what they are doing, maybe maintenance on the bathroom? Maybe they do it on night shift to not take it out of service?” We sat in silence for another 30 minutes until it was apparent that they were doing their own thing and then passed back out.

In the morning we woke and I was devastated to find that we had left the stove out on the picnic table - with the grid facing up so it had collected a good amount of water. The lighters were also waterlogged. I ran to the restroom and found one of the sites had been set-up with tents and canopies. It appeared as though more vehicles had arrived in the night and set up. Just a large family gathering midweek I guess. At the bathroom, I ran into the NOBO who had stayed up above for the evening. “That was quite a storm!” he said to me. I agreed and asked if, on his way back, he could drop by our campsite and try his presumably dry lighter on our stove to see if it would start. He agreed and I went off to use the restroom.

Coming back, I found that Amanda had had no luck starting the stove. “Guess we will give it the day to dry out?” I said with a shrug. Neither of us discussed the potential that it might be completely dead and would not restart. That would mean cold meals for a little while. After our cold breakfast and NO TEA, we did our typical morning exercises and got underway. The time was 08:15 - bit of a late start given the poor sleep and lack of hot breaky.

The stage today consistently climbs throughout the entire stretch with a few local descents and parallels the northern border of the Trinity Alps wilderness for the first 18 miles. It starts by winding up from the Scott Mountain pass and crossing south under Scott Mountain. The trail traverses high on ridges passing near Kangaroo Lake at mile 9.77 and under Carey Peak at mile 11.2. Shortly after Carey Peak the trail continues eastward along the ridge providing great views down on Bull Lake and crossing Chilcoot Creek at mile 14.33. At mile 16, the PCT makes a huge and annoying u-turn, traversing the inside of the High Camp Creek drainage. One can literally see the trail across a shallow basin about a mile away. After the big u-turn the trail makes a climb out of a saddle with the Parks Creek trailhead nestled in it at 20.5 miles to a set of gorgeous lakes, Upper and Lower Deadfall lake, which mark the end of today’s stage.

We crossed highway 3 and began our steady ascent towards the lower flanks of Scott Mountain. California was in the midst of some hard core fire prevention work near highway 3. We noted this strategy throughout Oregon and Washington. Roads, being good fire barriers, are further improved by nearly clear cutting 50 yard wide sections parallel to them. A few trees are left but always with good spacing. This way, a fire can be stalled and, hopefully, stopped at a road that has been improved in this way. The lower banks of Scott Mountain, near the pass, were evidence of this as we passed through almost entirely clear cut sections of forest.

The trail was very cruise-able, if incessantly upwards and we made pretty good time which helped compensate for our late start. Eventually we gained the first ridge and hiked along flat ground for about 6 miles. The day was in the high 80’s and pretty humid making the climb an effort. At mile 8, we started our second climb up onto the ridge proper and continued traversing northeast.

The views from the ridge were amazing. The smoke had abated enough that we could see out on the mountains around us providing gorgeous views into the Trinity Alps. We cruised along, dipping in and out of drainages to maintain the topo lines between miles 14 and 16. At mile 16 we looked across a large, shallow basin and could pick the trail out on the other side. “Okay, this is a little excessive, '' I said to Amanda. The issue here is that the PCT avoids 1000 feet of extra climbing in the stage…by adding an extra 4 miles to the day, a tradeoff that just isn't worth it. We considered bushwhacking across but, in the end, figured we wouldn't save all that much time, so continued on with the exercise. At the Parks Creek trailhead we stopped and used the restroom before finishing up the 4 miles to Deadfall Lakes.

At this beautiful chain of lakes we spent a little time finding a campsite. The sky looked threatening and, for some reason, we both vaguely remembered you were not supposed to camp by water when expecting lightning, but neither of us could work out the logic there so, in the end, we did. We picked a beautiful spot right on the shore and set things up. The lakes were popular for the weekend hikers and about 5 other groups were set up around the lake. We made dinner and enjoyed the nice views. We had arrived just before dark so the light was still good. I took a cold dip in the lake, letting the briskness revitalize my muscles and then did some yoga before heading inside to write-up some notes and pass out.

Day 93: Trinity Alps

8/17/2023

Section: Milepost 1586.3 to 1561.4

Total Trail Miles: 1378 / 2650

Distance: 25.38 Miles

Moving Time: 10:29

Elevation Gain: 3317 ft

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We woke the next morning to the continued clinking of cow bells. It was a cute sound for sure but it had kept us up last night, constantly fearing a 1200 pound animal was going to come barreling through our campsite. I don’t think cows have the best night vision. We ate breakfast, had some tea and were underway at 06:48.

The path today is kinda frustrating because, for the last 3rd, our heading is literally north…when we should be going south. The route follows a shallow “U” shape through the Klamath National Forest, starting with a traverse around the southern side of an east-west running ridge before dropping down to the Carters Meadow Summit on the Callahan-Cecilville Road where the Trinity Alps wilderness is entered. From there, the trail zigs and zags high above some drainages in an easterly direction, eventually passing under Eagle Peak, at which point the trail turns northeast. At about 16 miles in, the path breaks through the tree line and offers beautiful views of the Trinity Alps wilderness, before descending east off the nose of a ridge to the Mosquito Creek NFS campground. The path then parallels a NFS road for the last 5 miles winding up then down to the Scott Mountain Campground on Highway 3.

Today was pretty uneventful. As we were making our last preparations to leave, we encountered our first NOBO of the day. He asked us which way we were going and we told him south. “That is good. I think this is better.” he said in a strong European accent. It was heartening to see NOBO’s coming through this section, as we looked south to the Deep/Upper Fire.

We eventually bottomed out around mile 6, at Carters Meadow Summit and started climbing again. 5 solid miles of climbing brought us up and out of the saddle and onto the ridgeline. Signs of past and present fire surrounded us. We encountered an older group of weekend hikers along the way with their dogs and talked to them for a while. They are always interested in our progress and story. They said a car at the summit had been broken into and some beer had been stolen, which was a bummer. Once back up on the ridge we looked out onto…smoke. Kinda sad, because we had heard that the Trinity Alps were beautiful but, this is August in northern California these days. Without grand views out, we focused on our feet and saw 3 little frogs along the way. Sometimes you just have to appreciate the little things.

At mile 16 we started our descent. We had started hopscotching with a younger guy who was also headed south. 4 miles on we bottomed out again and started the short and final climb of the day. At the top, we ran into our fellow NOBO again. He was contemplating the path ahead. As we passed we asked where he was thinking of camping for the night. “I’m not sure, I was thinking about going down to Scott Mountain but I heard a group got smoked out there a few nights ago,” he said before taking a heavy drag on his cigarette. Amanda and I shared a grin at the hypocrisy of that comment and then said we were going to give it a shot before wishing him luck and continuing on. Again, we didn’t know it at the time, but the group he was referencing was our fellow, nameless thru-hiker who had bailed at Scott Mountain to retreat to Etna and jumped down to Dunsmuir because of smoke in the middle of the night.

Four more painful miles of downhill brought us to Scott Mountain campground where a bathroom was located in the middle of about 10 sprawling campsites. We picked a nice one close to the entrance and got set up, relishing the presence of a picnic table to keep our things off the ground. After our typical activities and some nice ramen with shredded beef we passed out under a darkening sky.

Day 92: Dodging Fire

8/16/2023

Section: Milepost 1600.8 to 1586.3

Total Trail Miles: 1353/2650

Distance: 14.1 Miles

Moving Time: 06:03

Elevation Gain: 3307 ft

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Day 92 was an interesting one – this was the first day we really had to think about fire. Throughout Oregon there were fires in the distance but Etna was where we had to start making decisions.

We woke in the morning and headed to the Etna Bakery, which was a wonderfully lit and decorated place serving some excellent pastries. As we headed over I texted Dusty to let her know we were going to breakfast and would be ready around 10 am. I had to return a platypus style filter I had purchased at the outfitters the day before and they did not open until after 8 am. We ordered drinks and some breakfast sandwiches at the café and did some blogging/’gramming. The place was bumpin’ for a midweek morning. While we sat there, a lady walked in and introduced herself as a forestry representative for the Marble Mountain Wilderness. She asked if we were hikers and we said yes and she said “I have some bad news, unfortunately the trail is closed at Etna summit northbound due to fire activity.” “Ah,” we said “we are SOBO’s, any info on the trail south?” She replied that she thought it was still open and then said if we gave her our phone number she would make a call to the Trinity Alps folks to find out for us. We thanked her and went back to our breakfast. “Well, that became an issue fast…” I said to Amanda. “Yea, a lot of lightning last night,” she replied. We still had an hour or so before the store opened so I brought up the fire filter on my Gaia App. A really handy tool, Gaia interfaces with Nasa’s fire scanning raster files to overlay active fires in a given area. Looking at it, I told Amanda “I don’t see anything near the trail southbound, there is a fire about 20 miles south of the trail near the Trinity Reservoir – I really hope they aren’t going to close the trail for that.” I checked my messages for something back from Dusty – nothing. “Think I should start reaching out to other rides?” I asked Amanda. “Yea, we wanna get a move on before they close much more.” I shot off some texts to a few other trail angels and went across the street to return the Platypus filter. As I headed over I received a text back from Robin saying she could come get us in about 30 minutes. I wrote her back saying that would be great. After the return, we walked back to the Inn and got our backpacks. On the way back Dusty got back to me asking where she should pick us up. I let her know that we had organized another ride which she took…less than eloquently. There were a flurry of text messages saying there was no need to go with another trail angel and that she could get us back up to the road which made for a few awkward texts over the next 30 minutes but, eventually, she relented. On our way back to the pick-up spot, in front of the outfitters, we ran into several groups of hikers, including the German couple, who told us they were skipping down to Dunsmuir/Mt. Ashland due to the fires and that we should consider that.

Much, much farther down the trail we would find out what happened that made so many people skip the Etna to Ashland section on this day. A hiker, who I won't name here, but whom we had run into a few times in Oregon had, the night before, gotten down to highway 3 which was about 2 days south for us and made camp there with a few other people. In the night, they had woken up and smelled smoke. Worried that a fire might be moving in on them, they had packed up and hitched back to Etna in the early hours of the morning. Once there, they told their story to many other SOBO’s who seemed to have interpreted it as though a fire had actually moved onto the southern section of the trail and that it now needed to be bypassed. This was false and anyone with a fire overlay could see that there were no active fires around the trail SOBO or simply have made a call to Trinity Alps to see if they were closing the southern section. Amanda and I deliberated, wondering if we should make the jump down as well. I texted the Marble Mountain Forestry Service lady who promptly replied that Trinity Alps was not closing any sections of the PCT south of Etna. “Can’t get much more direct than that,” I said. Our ride showed up and Robin repeated the same schtick about the PCT being closed. I let her know that I had just heard from Trinity Alps that there were no closures. She looked unsure but just said “if that’s what you heard, I will take you up there.”

The ride with Robin was fascinating. Got some hardcore MAGA vibes but she was interesting to talk with. One of our favorite quotes from a woman who said she “hated living in Corvallis” when I asked her about her 541 area code was, “Small town, small minds” in direct contradiction of her seemingly “small town America values.” In any case, she got us up to the pass without incident. The day was starting to look pretty Armageddon-ish with all the spot fires that had sprung up overnight. We got out at the pass as a NOBO was coming out of the woods. We said hi and Robin immediately informed him that the trail NOBO was closed in a way that was less than gentle and made him visibly bristle. He asked if he could get a ride down and she said yes while we walked across the road and started our warm-ups.

Given the late start today, we had planned to go a short distance, just past the southern flanks of Russian Peak. This would allow us to exit out on the Callahan-Cecilville Road if the fire situation got ugly. The route for today climbs out of Etna Summit and gains the upper flanks of a southeast running ridge, passing above the Smith, Taylor and Paynes Lakes while crossing into the Russian Wilderness. Towards the end of the day the path passes back out of the Russian Wilderness and turns east and then south before crossing under Russian Peak and switching down onto a cattle road where a spring makes for a nice place to make camp.

After our warm-ups we started our watches and made our way up the trail, which climbed out of the summit saddle. We walked for some time before running into a NOBO heading towards the summit. “Hey, you guys know the trail is closed this way right?” without a hello or anything. We informed him that we had talked directly with a forestry service representative who contradicted that information and that, to our recent knowledge, Trinity Alps was open. “Well, there was a group that had to bail out just this morning!” a bit self-importantly. We told him that may be but the closest fire was the Upper (later called Deep) fire, 20 miles off the trail and with a whole lot of ridges and roads between it and the PCT – to which he responded, and I will always remember this, “Ok, well, be careful I would hate to see you guys get into a bad situation” with zero actual care in his voice. Northern California was where we started running into some really frustrating characters. The real problem here, I think, was that this guy was very aware that he was going to have to flip up and maybe he had made it through the entire Sierra without having to do that and was loath to do it now. Misery loves company so, for him, if he was getting derailed, then everyone should have to. This is, unfortunately, a sentiment we ran into a few times on the trail – if I have to flip, everyone should have to flip, a sentiment that usually masqueraded as a concern for others safety. So that was irritating but we continued on and soon ran into a forestry maintenance crew strung out along the trail. We said thank you to each of them because no one appreciates clear trails as much as PCT hikers. When we reached the foreman we said hi to each other and then peppered her with questions about trail maintenance. How do you decide which sections to do? Do you think chainsaws should be allowed during really bad years to help get the trails cleared sooner? Do you work with the California Conservation Corps? It looked like you were using pack mules, where you? She smiled and answered all of our questions in turn and in detail and when we were done we said thank you again and carried on up the trail.

Another couple hours brought us out of the Russian Wilderness boundary and dropped us onto the south side of an east-west running ridge. We hiked on and ran into two older ladies hiking NOBO. They were doing the Northern California section and had left their car in Siead. Evidently, a large fire had sprung up east of Siede and was moving west. One of the women added, wryly, “I hope I still have a car when we get there, if we can even get there.” We all laughed about that and then went our separate ways. The sky opened up and we briefly put on rain jackets. Amanda asked if we should modify our end point due to the thunder and lightning that was around. I looked at the map and found that we were going to be in the trees and so said we could continue on to our original destination. We hiked for another 2 hours, passed under Russian Peak and wove our way down some switchbacks to the old road grade that was going to serve as our tent pad that evening. In the distance, we could see the mushroom cloud forming above the Upper fire near Trinity Lake. “That does look concerning,” Amanda said. “Yea,” I agreed “but they always look worse and closer than they are. This one would have to hop a lot of roads and ridgelines to get to us.”

We reached the road and set up camp. Amanda got the tent going, being wary of the many ant hills that permeated the road while I tramped down to the bee infested spring to get some water going. I had really hoped we were going to get a new filter in Etna, but alas, it was not to be. I collected some water out of a cleverly devised “leaf” spigot that someone had left and returned to the tent. A belly drop plane flew overhead toward the fire, which was worrisome. Amanda had things set up and I sat down on the mat to boil water while listening to the clinking of cow bells below us. “I really hope they don’t use this road in the night to come up to water,” I half joked. “That would be quite the wake up,” Amanda agreed. After dinner we passed out – this time before dark.

Day 91: ETNA!

8/15/2023

Section: Milepost 1614.8 to 1600.8

Total Trail Miles: 1339/2650

Distance: 14.13 Miles

Moving Time: 05:56

Elevation Gain: 1762 ft

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Last night the light show really went off. For about 2 hours we were surrounded by lightning so, maybe, not the best sleep ever but really cool to witness. Amanda is not a fan of thunder and lightning, especially when she’s separated from it by only a few millimeters of fabric. I missed saying hi to Cat and Mouse as they were up and out super early. We ate and took a little longer to get ready and were last out, behind the German Couple by a few minutes.

Today’s stage exits out of the Marble Mountain Wilderness to Etna. The stage rounds around a few local peaks and cuts across Shelly Meadows before turning due south and then east. The path exits the Marble Mountain Wilderness about 2 miles before reaching Etna Summit on Sawyer’s Bar Road.

After some tea and breakfast bars we were out at 06:45, chasing the Deutchen. The day was pretty uneventful – a lot of weaving around local peaks and staying towards the top of ridges whenever possible, I mean – it is called the Pacific Crest Trail for a reason. It was hot again today, hence the thunderstorm, but fortunately we were higher than our ascent out of Siead so that was a relief. We ran into a few NOBO’s hiking out of Etna. One encouraged us to take a look at the little spa in town as well as the outfitters. He also said that we should take any chance we get at cell service to call a ride up from down below as there wasn’t too much between where we were and the road.

We continued south and, at the turn east, we caught some service. There was a…disagreement…at the turn about stopping and making a call or continuing on. We ended up stopping and making a few calls down to Etna. On the 3rd try we got a hold of a trail angel named “Dusty” who was happy to give us a ride. The call cut out towards the end but enough critical information had been transferred at that moment that we could be reasonably confident she would be at the summit for us when we got there about an hour and twenty minutes later.

The path turned downwards as we sank to the road. We picked our way down, occasionally skating on round rocks that made their way under our feet. Again, walking in the Marbles is really like walking on marbles. A little over an hour brought us to the road and a Ford Escape sat waiting on the far side of the road. Dusty recognized us, flipped a u-turn and came up to us asking if we were Amanda and Payden. We said yes, got in and Dusty pulled out onto the road headed down to Etna. As we descended several thousand feet, Dusty told us all about Etna and when we arrived in town she took us on a little tour so we knew where everything was. Sadly, it was an early weekday and both the new brewery and distillery were closed, but Dusty did point out Dotty’s, a nice diner style hamburger joint which served burgers made of locally sourced beef and supposedly amazing homemade drinks. Dusty also pointed out a few venues for the evening as well as the city park which was targeted towards accommodating budget minded hikers. After a swing through town, Dusty dropped us at Dotty’s and we paid her 20 bucks for the ride before getting out. We went in and ordered two burgers and Amanda got a Root Beer malt while I went with a homemade Lime Ricky. Oh..My…God – those alone were ludicrously good. The drinks were served in like 100 oz mugs with that good-good crushed ice but I still put most of mine down before the burger even got to me. The burgers were great, they ranked in at a solid 2nd or 3rd place on the trail so far with some tasty fries. I polished off Amanda’s malt because it was insanely good as well.

Once we were done, Amanda and I made the very hot walk back to downtown while deliberating on a place to stay for the evening. We decided on the Collier Inn, which was in an old common house that had been masterfully redone in the style of the day and sat just outside of downtown. We went in and called the number on the informational board. A lady picked up and said she was headed our way. I headed to the Ray’s grocery store across the street for some beverages and snacks while Amanda got us checked in. When I came back we both took showers and then made a list of things we needed.

We split up and I headed to Etna Creek Outfitters while she took a walk through downtown. The outfitter was one of the best equipped and well organized little shops we saw on the trail. Run by a young woman and her mother, they had everything we needed, including trade in’s for DarnTough socks which we took full advantage of. Happy to say I got some awesome American Flag patterned socks! I also looked for a replacement filter for our ailing Sawyer, but they had been crushed by hikers in the past weeks and were completely out. As I was shopping, a deluge came down outside making it impossible to hear anything in the store… kinda glad we weren’t in the park under our compromised tent. Thunder boomed everywhere. Hopefully the water was dampening any fire activity down… I checked out and walked across the street to where Amanda had just made an appointment for the spa. I had wanted to spend the evening writing but she said I was coming with so… evening got filled up for me. Our last stop was at the Ray’s where we found a decent resupply for ourselves. The walk back to the Inn smelled strongly of fresh rain quickly evaporating off the hot pavement. We spotted the German couple and asked if they wanted a beer and they followed us to the Collier. We chilled in the common room talking about our time on the trail and living in Germany. Eventually they continued on, wanting to catch Dotty’s before it closed and Amanda and I headed to the Spa.

I’ll be the first to say, the Etna Spa was fantastic. A kind old lady met us in front and we picked out our own salts before heading out to a back patio where two soaking tubs waited for us. We stripped down, mixed in our salt and got in, enjoying the mix of scents from the warm California evening and our salt. We soaked for a solid hour, broken up by a very quick stint in the sauna and, around dark, begrudgingly got out to head back to the Collier Inn. When we got back, I made some homemade nachos with Tillamook cheddar cheese, ground beef and the other typical fixins’ – it was fantastic. Afterwards, we quickly passed out. Etna, at this point on the trail, is probably one of our favorite little towns. It has everything hikers could want and the brewery and distillery weren’t even open! We both agreed as we laid in bed that someday we would do a PCT road trip and Etna would definitely be on the list of stops.

Day 90: Halfway There!

8/14/2023

Section: Milepost 1635.6 to 1614.8

Total Trail Miles: 1325/2650

Distance: 20.67 Miles

Moving Time: 09:06

Elevation Gain: 3724 ft

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Well, we slept moderately well last night. The “Weird California Deer” kept the forest sounding very alive most of the night, but we were almost too tired to care. Today, our objective was to get as close to the pass above Etna, CA as possible and leave as little mileage as possible for us the following day. Along the way, we crossed the 1325 mile marker, putting us at our own, personal halfway point of the PCT.

The stage we followed today climbs a bit out of Buckhorn spring, staying high on Big Ridge while making its way south-southeast. We are in the Marble Mountain wilderness and it is a gorgeous area of northern California. At the end of Big Ridge, the trail gains and descends from a number of small saddles, mostly above tree-line, before progressing through a series of alpine lakes and passing directly under the Marble Mountain. The trail passes through one final pass, transitioning to the northeast side of a ridge and finishing on the banks of a small alpine lake. The original intent today was to get to Shelly Meadows, however, we found that it may be called the Marble Wilderness, not due to the mountain so much as that it feels like you are walking on marbles the entire time you hike here, and that sucks - so we cut it a little short today.

I don’t have much for today, it was pretty innocuous. We hopscotched with a German couple from the Black Forest area and most of our interactions with them were high fidelity flashbacks of the last two years of our life living in Germany - i’ll just leave it at that. The temperature was definitely cooler today. Not by much but enough to be appreciated. Anything south of triple digits is something to cherish I suppose. Way out south, we could see something snow covered. Whether it was the Sierra or just some high sections of the Cascades was difficult to discern.

Towards the end of the day climbed through a number of small saddles and gained the tree line, getting fantastic views west and east at the Marble Mountain wilderness. We crossed under Kings Castle mountain and took a rest at Paradise Lake. Walking on the rock strewn ground most of the day had spent us and Amanda asked the tell-tale question “how much further?” “5 miles” I answered “how are you doing?” “Think I am done, can we stop here?” As we usually do in these situations I proposed a compromise. “There are some nice lakes about 2 miles out with campsites, can you make it there?” I asked. “If I have to,” she replied riley. We carried on. The Marble mountains were truly gorgeous. We passed the German couple refilling water at Big Rock Fork, just under Black Marble Mountain and traversed across Black Marble Valley. We crossed over another saddle above the tree-line and descended the other side, storm clouds threatening in the distance. Another mile brought us along a ridge at 6400 feet where two small lakes sat nestled under some bare peaks. At the second one we stopped and made camp. The Bellingham couple was already in their tent so…missed that Bellingham connection again. We took a spot about 20 feet away and left a third, if non-optimal, spot for the Germans who showed up about 20 minutes after us.

I filled water while Amanda set-up the tent. It was a bit tight but with rain threatening we put up the rain fly. After dinner we cleaned up and went to bed, ready for the light show we were almost certainly going to get that evening.

Day 89: Sittin’ on a Scorpion

8/13/2023

Section: Milepost 1657.5 to 1635.6

Total Trail Miles: 1304

Distance: 22.64 Miles

Moving Time: 09:32

Elevation Gain: 5676 ft

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The next morning we woke and got out pretty quick, wanting to get to the café by the time they were open. This was another one of those mornings where Amanda would tell me I was being “unnecessarily pushy” to get a move on and, in this rare case, it did truly turn out to be unnecessary. We folded up the tent and put our air pads away before packing it all into our packs. By the time we were ready to go, most of the rest of the camp was already headed north. I added our name to the guest book and did a quick peruse of the other hikers and, indeed, the group I was snooping on last night was Cat and Mouse from Bellingham, Wa. I put our names right below theirs - “Sheets and River Dancer, Bellingham, Wa” after which we departed for the Seiad Cafe.

Twenty minutes of walking back down the main road brought us to the Seiad Cafe and general store. My Aunt Joni had sent her second care package, the one with many of the meals in it, to this general store, so we were excited to get that package and maybe score some pancakes at the cafe. We arrived at the store about 20 minutes before either it or the cafe were supposed to be open. While we waited we talked to the fairly…insufferable hodgepodge of people that congregated at the store with us. There was the UK kid who was already not our favorite person for the dinner comment the night before, then there were two guys that had been sudo hiking with Markus. One guy kept going on about how he lived this vagabond, dirtbag lifestyle but also had a wife and several adult children at home so… yea, seemed like a solid mid-life crisis in the flesh. The other guy, from the UK, seemed okay but just generally avoided talking or saying anything more than necessary.

At 8 am, a beat-up Windstar van showed up and a woman got out and began opening the store for us. We went inside after her to look around and when she was settled asked after our package which she quickly found for us. We took it outside and our little cohort of misfits, being the “elite” thru-hikers that they were all made comments about how heavy it was. We shrugged it off with a comment about making a nice donation to the hiker box. Probably should have avoided saying that because UK kid decided it was an invitation to hover over us while we unpacked it. I’ve been married to Amanda for 8 years and known her for 14 now. She’s the most gentle person i’ve ever met but in that moment she was giving off really strong “i’m about to punch this kid in the face vibes.” Fortunately she controlled what was probably a strong urge to do physical harm and we turned out a few items into the hiker box which were promptly scrounged up. At this point, the lady saw us looking over at the cafe and said “the family that runs the store has a few young kids that they have been taking down to the county fair each night and coming back late - they probably won’t be in today despite what the hours say.” We thanked her and looked at each other. Seiad valley was quickly becoming one of our least favorite places on the trail. The hiker family showed up in their dilapidated van and Amanda and I started to shoulder our backpacks to get out but, just then, one of our favorite people on-trail showed up. I turned to Amanda “I think that’s Niccolo,” pointing to a figure about a block away coming up the road. As he came up i let out a “Holy Shit - Niccolo!!?” He smiled and gave me a hug as a few others hiking with him showed up just behind. They went into the store, also dismayed that the cafe was closed, and came out with pints of ice cream which they promptly started tucking into. We sat near the street while Niccolo recounted his time in the Sierra and what had happened to the others we had been hiking alongside with around Julien while Queen Bee hovered nearby. Eventually, we said goodbye to Nicollo and wished him luck on his 40-a-day sprint to the Canadian border and got the hell out of Seiad. The time was 9 am and it was already in the upper 80’s - today was going to be hot.

We walked the road, which was the PCT, across the Seiad river and turned to walk alongside it for 9 brutal miles. At one point, as we made our way along, a group of NOBO’s stopped and pushed peaches into our hands. Along the road were several orchards with hiker-friendly owners who like to make offerings to the hikers during the season. We reached the end of the road at a campground that demarks the transition back to dirt trail and stopped to snack. My favorite snack on this trail is quickly becoming potato chips - specifically, Kettle Brand chips. I don’t really have a specific flavor, they’re all good, but Kettle is the clear winner followed by Tim’s. They are salty and delicious. I make small slits in the roof of the bag and deflate them so they pack well and generally go through a normal sized bag a day.

At the campground, we relaxed for a while before crossing the stream and heading up the trail. The day was hot - like triple digit hot - and straight-up oppressive. The trail made its way along the Seiad river, climbing steadily upwards as it made its long march out of Seiad. We crossed into a burn zone and things started to get really ugly. Without shade and in the full force of the sun I started to feel nauseous, even at the snail's pace we were going. Finally, we made a stop at a shaded water stream and pulled our shoes off to enjoy the cool spring water flowing by. A girl we had been hopscotching with since the campground went by and said “Solid idea taking a break here - I wish I had waited for this spot,” before continuing on. We sat for a while and I got up to set the Sawyer to gravity filter. As I made my way to the backpacks, Amanda looked down at where I had been sitting. “Hey Payden,” she said incredulously, “did you know you were sitting on a scorpion?” “No way!” I said quickly returning to where I was sitting but as I looked down, sure enough, there was a medium, brown scorpion in the space I had just vacated a second before. Now exposed, the brown insect was attempting to get back into some cover while Amanda and I were scrambling to take a picture of it on Amanda’s nature identification app. The scorpion was faster though and soon had itself tucked into a log where we couldn’t get to it. “That was crazy!” I said smiling to Amanda.

Eventually, we left the refuge of shade and returned to the oven of pain. Fortunately, the burn section ended and we were soon back into the trees where things were a solid 10 degrees cooler. At the end of the burn section, the trail started to climb steeply, switching its way out of the river valley and up onto a ridgeline. We climbed and climbed for what seemed like hours, passing a good spot with a few other campers already setting up. On the way up I saw a pretty yellow breasted wren and ran into a few groups of deer that refused to yield the trail to us. The sun set and we carried on, observing more scorpions and some chubby bullfrogs as we switchbacked ever higher.

Just when we thought the climbing would never end, the trail dumped out into a clearing signifying our arrival to Buckhorn Spring, our camp for the night. Already at the clearing were several tents and about 20 sets of red eyes glaring back into the shine of our headlamps, greedy for salt. “These California deer are super weird,” Amanda muttered as we struggled to find a campsite without lighting the neighbors up with our beams. Eventually we did and I ran to get water while Amanda set the tent up and set up for dinner. It was 10 o’clock and so much of our nightly regiment went out the window. We were fed and in bed in about 30 minutes, happy to be out of Seiad and through the worst of the heat.

Day 88: More Old Friends

8/12/2023

Section: Milepost 1684.3 to 1657.5

Total Trail Miles: 1282 / 2650

Distance: 23.19 Miles

Moving Time: 08:56

Elevation Gain: 1220 ft

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Ah, today was the great descent to one of our least favorite spots along the Pacific Crest Trail - Seiad Valley. The first half today’s path traverses near the top of a ridge system above 6000 feet through some small burn sections before making a brutal, 4000 foot descent into Seiad valley itself.

We woke in the morning and both laughed about our sad attempt to stay up and catch the meteor shower. My GoPro’s attempt wasn't much better… We ate some fancy fig bars and drank some tea before embarking around 7 am. As we walked, we talked about a book Amanda was reading (well, listening because it is difficult to walk and read at the same time) called “Thirst.” It’s the story of a Bellingham woman who set the unsupported speed record on the PCT a few years ago. At around 8 am we ran into UK Sam and stopped to talk with him. Again, this was our first meeting since Whitney and we were excited to catch-up with him. His backpack waist strap had broken a day or so before but he was persevering, if not easily. The good news was that Osprey was replacing the backpack wholesale for him…once he got to Ashland. He told us about the descent into Seiad - it was a mess. The Manzanita bushes had grown wild over the summer and taken the trail back such that whole sections of the descent involved bushwhacking and navigation. Supposedly, the trail was gone and extremely difficult to get through and many people were opting to take road 48N20 down from or up to the saddle. We thanked him for the info, said our goodbyes and continued on. One hour along we ran into none other than Markus and sat down beside the trail to catch up with him. He reiterated the same thing UK Sam had said about the trail conditions and regaled us with all that had gone on with him since we had split up, including what sounded like an epic SKI-ERO day in Mammoth in July. It also sounded like most of the group was going to head to PCT Days in Portland and he asked if we were going as well. We said no and that we couldn’t justify losing 3-4 days to go back to Portland. We talked a little longer and then split up, heading our separate ways and wishing each other good luck.

Another hour or so brought us along a ridge and down a slow descent through burn zones to a saddle where we stopped to gravity filter water and eat lunch. During lunch we weighed our options for getting down. It was 95 degrees and still heating up. Hacking through 9 miles of manzanitas on a non-existent trail seemed like a one-way ticket to suck-fest so we decided to forgo the trail and hit the road.

We finished lunch and started down the trail, the mercury inching ever higher. The road was far from fascinating. We meandered further and further into the Seiad River canyon. At one point, a group pulled alongside us in a Toyota pick-up and asked if they could offer us a ride down. We politely turned them down saying we wanted to walk it all. After they left Amanda looked sideways and said wryly “I would have taken that ride.” “Yea - me too,” I said back. Hours moved by at a snail's place as our knees began to protest the not-too-terrible but relentless march down. A few sharp switchbacks brought us alongside the river and we stopped to pick some late season blackberries along the road. We hiked on and eventually started to notice houses and cabins built up along the river. Suddenly Amanda stopped, clutching her nose. “Bloody nose,” she said, rolling her eyes. We stopped to let it re-clot and as we waited a random man pulled up in a Prius, jumped out and in an Eastern European accent asked - “do you need some tissues?” Bewildered, Amanda smiled and said yes to which he threw open his trunk and pulled out a roll of paper towels and dispensed them to her. With the help of new materials, the nosebleed was stemmed and then, this Romanian angel took the bloody tissues back, wished us luck and drove off. “What was that?” I asked Amanda with a bewildered smile on my face. “So random, but exactly what I needed,” Amanda said looking back at me. We tried to walk but Amanda was still feeling a little light headed, so we sat on the side of the road under a “State of Jefferson” sign eating Fritos until she felt good enough to leave. We hiked down the road, eventually coming into the “center” of Seiad valley just as the light was fading. Once we hit the central intersection, we turned right and hiked up highway 96 about half a mile to a hiker-friendly campground, called Wildwood, where other thru-hikers helped us find a spot and get settled. One kid from the UK, who maybe wasn’t the most socially with it, was kind enough to let us know we had missed a full, complimentary dinner by only 30 minutes. His exact words were something like “if only you had been here 30 minutes earlier - the table was full of food!” I thought Amanda was going to kill him. We got our tent set up and ran a quick load of laundry. In between I kept looking over at the couple next to us in their tent - felt like a creeper, but I kept thinking the guy’s shirt said “Ski-to-Sea” on it, which might have made them the other “Bellinghamsters” we knew were somewhere around us on the trail. By around 9 pm we finally turned in for the night, fighting against the heat still holding on to get some sleep in preparation for the big climb out of Seiad the next day.

Day 87: Oregon Complete!

8/11/2023

Section: Milepost 1709.3 to 1684.3

Total Trail Miles: 1255

Distance: 24.17 Miles

Moving Time: 09:02

Elevation Gain: 4052 ft

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Today we completed Oregon and what an amazing milestone to hit! The stage starts off at the same wilderness shelter we had slept at the night before and traverses southwest until it hits the California/Oregon border. From here it descends through forests and cow pastures crossing a labyrinth of forest service roads and eventually arriving at a saddle above a spring where we camped for the night.

We woke around 5 the next morning. The light is starting to fade as we head into fall but it is still almost imperceptible here in August. Chewy got up as we prepared to leave and, in classic thru-hiker fashion, was ready to go in under 20 minutes and leaving north about the same time we departed south. We bid farewell and good luck to him and went our separate ways.

The morning was pretty uneventful. More wooded sections separated by beautiful clearings filled with wildflowers and forest service roads. About an hour in we ran across half of the “German” group we went into Sequoia National Park with a month before. We stopped and talked with them. The group had dwindled to the German guy and French girl as well as the two girls from the midwest. We talked a little bit and then continued on. Not long after that, we stopped to filter water at a nice sheltered area with a spring fed stream running through it. The Sawyer is starting to slow down noticeably. It’s getting so bad that we are starting to dehydrate ourselves to avoid filtering because it is now a 45 minute affair to refill. I attempted to backflush the filter in Ashland but I think if it goes too long before backflushing, the effectiveness of the flush becomes drastically reduced. So, yea, we try to go through the entire day now without filtering so that we can just gravity filter 2 liters apiece overnight and make that work the next day - not optimal.

We spent much of the midday traversing the shoulders of ridges heading south and west. At one point around 2 pm we broke above the treeline briefly and ran into Kirstin from San Diego whom we had started out of Campo with on day one. We stopped and caught up with her for a while. She had been hiking with Travis, the guy who was initially carrying an ultra-light chair in the first stages of the trail, and indicated that he was about a day behind her and that she had finally talked him out of the chair. While talking with her, a bumblebee landed on my shin and I absently brushed it off thinking it was a fly. Well - it didn’t like that, got scared and stung me which made me sad ‘cause the whole situation could have been avoided. So that’s sting number 2 for me on the trail. Before we split going our separate ways, Kirstin excitedly told us that there was trail magic just before the border and that they should still be there. We left ultra energized to get some trail magic in an hour or so.

We hiked on for another 90 minutes, up and over a ridge and descended to find 3 older campers waiting with tables, cold beer and chili. They weren’t the only ones either. As we approached we caught sight of IZZY! We had not seen Izzy since the day we climbed Mt. Whitney and were so excited to catch-up with her. We approached and were motioned to chairs. The trail angels were from Ashland and had come up to trail-angel and see the meteor shower that was expected that evening. I had a Sierra-Nevada Torpedo and some chips with salsa. Amanda talked with Izzy while I chatted with the trail angels. As we talked, Queen Bee showed up alone as well as another hiker, Ranger, from DC who had also straight-lined it through the Sierra. We all chilled and enjoyed some time off of our feet before Amanda, Izzy and I decided to head out. We took a picture with a big PCT sign the trail angels had brought, gave hugs all around and headed our separate ways wishing each other luck.

About 45 minutes on, we hit the California border about the same time Queen Bee, who was slack packing again, caught up to us. We stopped and chatted and she took our picture at the border. She was doing a big day and still had 20 miles to go with sunset only a few hours away. As we were about to leave, the rest of her family came up the trail, NOBO, and she stopped to check-in with them. I’m not really sure of the logistics of what they were doing - some going SOBO and others going NOBO, never really understood how what they were doing worked. In any case we carried on and descended about 700 feet, eventually bottoming out in a cow pasture. We gave the cows a customary “moooo” which was returned with an ambivalent stare before moving on.

From the cow pasture we climbed 1200 feet in about 5 miles, filling water again, where Queen Bee caught up to us. Night was falling and she confided nervously that she hated hiking after dark. We bid her good luck and, after another agonizing 45 minutes of filtering, carried on upwards, eventually pulling ourselves near the top of a ridge. The trail wound around the head of a valley and met up with a forest road where we stopped for the night, dusk already turning the world dark. One other hiker was already set-up and got settled a short distance from him. Amanda pitched the tent while I descended a few hundred feet into the head of a nearby valley to gather water for dinner and gravity filtering. The steady “tinking” of bells could be heard in the distant bringing back memories of our Alta Via hike in the Dolomites 2 years prior. After I had gathered up all the water I could carry, I climbed back up to the saddle and started dinner. Tonight was some Good-To-Go brand freeze dried meals. The freeze dried meal game has come a long way in the last 10 years. My favorite are the Good-To-Go meals out of Maine, specifically the Cubano and Adobe bowls. They are both 1000+ calories and super tasty. We finished up dinner and cleaned up. I did my yoga in the middle of the road, set up my GoPro to record the meteor shower around 1 am and laid down. We had fully expected to stay up and try to catch the beginning of the shower but fell asleep pretty much as soon as our heads hit the air mattress.

Amanda and Payden at the California/Oregon Border!

Day 86: Mount Ashland Ski Resort

8/10/2023

Section: Milepost 1719.7 to 1709.3

Total Trail Miles: 1230 / 2650

Distance: 11.21 Miles

Moving Time: 04:27

Elevation Gain: 2861 ft

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We woke on day 86 in a bed for the first time in over 2 weeks. It was fabulous, though Amanda and I are both finding that our bodies have so adjusted to sleeping in a tent and on an air pad that we honestly don’t sleep that well in hotel rooms anymore. I think there is too much artificial light and road noise. After organizing our stuff we stalked down to the lobby for breakfast. We loaded up on some continental goodness and swiped some peanut butter packets and tea before heading back to the room where we caught up on some digital to-do’s (gotta keep the ‘gram updated on our activities 😂).

By the time we had finished all of our correspondence, the morning had passed by and we decided that, given an already delayed start, we might as well enjoy the endless cuisine options in Ashland. We headed down to the Green Leaf, near where we had had dinner the night before and, after getting a table and ordering, I ran down to the local second hand outdoor store to donate a few things to the hiker box and grab some batteries. By the time I came back, my meal had arrived and we tucked into some more phenomenal Ashland food.

After lunch, we caught another sketchy Uber out of Ashland down I-5 back to the trailhead where we had met the hiking family the day prior. The day was already heating up - a warning of things to come. We did our pre-hike stretches, donned our backpacks, gave each other a fist bump and started up the trail.

The route today heads almost entirely west and up from Siskiyou Summit on I-5 paralleling the Mt. Ashland Ski Resort access road and eventually progressing on the backside of the now very dry slopes. Towards the end of the day, the trail passes through beautiful open slopes in full bloom under the summer sun and ends at a forest service campground and wilderness shelter.

We climbed through forests of moderately sized trees, both sweating profusely despite consistent shade, while cars occasionally passed below us on the Mt. Ashland ski resort road. The trail passed by some nice looking lodges as it made its incessant climb ever upwards. The 5 hours passed by without much incident and we eventually popped out in some beautiful high meadows with small streams cascading through them. About a mile before our scheduled stop at the shelter we filled up our bladders and continued on.

I’m sad to say we blew right past the shelter before realizing it was below us, down the hill, at a campground. We backtracked about a quarter mile before descending to a small campground. We were greeted there by an older group excited to hear about our adventures on the trail and who gave us a bottle of red wine to celebrate. Shortly after we arrived at the shelter and started setting up a NOBO named Chewy (Sean) showed up and set up next to us. In his mid-twenties and from Canada, Chewy had braved the Sierra in a straight line and we compared our pictures of Forester pass. His were definitely more snowy…but far fewer sun cups to contend with. We had dinner together and while eating we discovered that we had both been at Oktoberfest in Munich on the same weekend. Doubtfully we ran into each other but it was still funny and we all agreed that it’s one of the greatest parties in Europe one can go to. Eventually we all said good night to the resident rat in the shelter and turned in for the night.

Day 85: Ashland, OR

8/9/2023

Section: Milepost 1731.1 to 1719.7

Total Trail Miles: 1219.7

Distance: 11.73 Miles  

Moving Time: 04:28

Elevation Gain: 1224 ft

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Today we woke extra early to capitalize on our time in Ashland. Our path on the 11 mile sprint to our NERO day picked up where it had left off in the Soda Mountain wilderness and traversed almost due west towards I-5. Along the way the PCT passes south of Porcupine rock and north of the enticing Pilot Rock before descending a long, steep grade to I-5 at the Siskiyou summit. The stage ends on route 273 (Old Hwy 99) which is traveled northwards for about a mile, under I-5 to where the PCT continues west.

We were up and walking by 6:30, enjoying the cool of the morning. The path, like much of Oregon, was flat and easily traveled and the miles flew by. We were met along the way by epic views of Soda Mountain and Pilot rock not to mention 15 or so NOBO’s telling us stories of how amazing Ashland was. It had been 15 days since our last sleep in a bed and, while we were getting very used to our mesh and fabric sheltered evenings, we were both excited for a shower and some clean sheets. Along the way we also made friends with a Rosy Boa!

We eventually weaved our way down a steep grade, after talking with a group of about 20 boomers, and reached Old Route 99. From here, we worked our way north, under I-5, to where the PCT picked back up heading south. Here we called an Uber and sat down to wait. As we sat there in our reverie, a well-loved van pulled up with a couple and about 5 kids. They jumped out and some of the band started getting their things together to start walking. We talked to them for a little while before realizing that this was the family we had heard about hiking the Pacific Crest Trail this year. The Mom’s name was Queen Bee and the dad’s name was Spreadsheets, a variation of my own name. They were originally from the midwest but had been living in Chad for the last 10 years as doctors associated with, if I understood correctly, a mission in the country. We talked for a little while before the mom and two oldest boys started off slackpacking up the trail. As they explained, this was how they were doing some of Oregon. Slackpacking certain sections with some of the kids and other sections with others.

Eventually, our Uber showed up. He had been heavily delayed because of roadwork on I-5 and apologized profusely. We loaded our things up and got in and he rejoined I-5 traffic headed north. About 35 minutes brought us into downtown, maybe a bit longer because our driver refused to follow the very deliberate directions layed out for him in the Uber app, but whatever - he got us there. At the hotel I had reserved, we got out, thanked him and went in. At the reception desk we discovered that our room was not quite ready and that we would have to wait until later that day to get in. Slightly let down, we walked down the street to get a burger at “Flipped” which we had seen on the way in. We both ordered the special, a Greek burger, which was phenomenal, but it was here that I realized I had made a mistake in directing our resupply package.

A few weeks prior, my Aunt Joni had asked if she could send us a resupply package. Delighted, we had said yes and provided an address to send it to. It was only as I was finishing the last crumbs of a second burger at Flipped, however, that I realized that address was actually all the way back at a lodge near where we had exited the trail earlier that day. Some hikers choose to not go into Ashland at all and instead stay at a lodge near Old Route 99 called Callahan’s Mountain Lodge at Siskiyou summit. Well, it turns out the address for the lodge is what I had provided to my Aunt without considering the fact that we would be going into Ashland and that the better option would have undoubtedly been the local post office. So, after putting down two amazing burgers at “Flipped” we called an Uber, who happened to be the same guy who had picked us up from the trailhead, to take us back down I-5 to Callahan’s Mountain Lodge where we were able to grab the package. While waiting for the kind lady behind the counter to go find our box I was dismayed to see a local tv station calling for a heat wave and triple digit temperatures coming our way the following day. She quickly returned and I was reminded that my aunt had actually sent two boxes, of which this was the first, weighing in at about 22 pounds. We returned to the Uber and once back at the hotel we were allowed in and turned the goods out onto our room’s bed, reveling in all the goodies that would take us south towards the California border.

After everything was organized we headed out into Ashland and got dinner at Brickhouse, an awesome meeting-hall style eatery on mainstreet. I enjoyed some examples of Oregon’s incredible brew scene and Amanda got a custom cocktail while we sat and reflected on our time since Cascade Locks. We were able to recreate each day, with each other’s help, and where we had stayed each night. After dinner we headed over to Ashland’s cinema to catch the Barbie movie which was excellent (not to mention the popcorn that I couldn’t stop eating) before returning to the hotel for some much needed rest.

Day 84: Anniversary Hike

8/8/2023

Section: Milepost 1750.0 to 1731.1

Total Trail Miles: 1208.2

Distance: 19.09 Miles  

Moving Time: 07:16

Elevation Gain: 3153 ft

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Well, it's our 8-year anniversary today and what better way to spend it than hiking through southern Oregon! The stage today starts out at the Apserkaha cabin camp and heads west, parallel to Soda Creek. The path then runs alongside Hyatt Reservoir and passes through the northern section of Hyatt Meadows before winding down to route 66 at Green Springs summit. Here, most hikers get off the trail briefly to enjoy some BBQ at BBQ69, which is a short hitch down the old road. From Green Springs summit the trail climbs up towards Hobart Bluff and Baldy Creek where we ate that night. 

Today I woke up pretty excited because it was BBQ day…and our anniversary - of course. Everyone on FarOut has been raving about this BBQ69 place and today we are going to try it. I also woke up pretty fresh because we slept in a cabin last night. After a quick breakfast we shuffled outside, made one last use of the very nice facilities and then cut up the hill leading out of the campground. The trail climbed up to where we had left it off and, once there, we merged on. The day was largely uneventful. Many hikers choose to walk a south running road of the trail a short distance from the cabin camp, straight to the bbq place but I am a bit of a stickler when it comes to staying on route, so we did not deviate. The trail winds through a patchwork of different jurisdictions in this section, made clear by many signs demarking the transitions. Eventually we wound around Green Springs Mountain and descended to route 66, Amanda making the obligatory "Get your kicks on route 66" comment which drew a dry laugh out of both of us. At the road, which California appears to be taking very good care of, I had just enough reception to make a call down to the bbq place. According to FarOut, the new owners were very hiker friendly and typically game to offer a pick-up at the pass. A quick call determined that this would not be an option for us. "Sorry," the owner reluctantly said "it's just my wife and I working today and we can't leave to come up and get you." I told him not to worry and that we would get ourselves a hitch down. "Sounds good,'' I heard him say before the line went dead. So Amanda and I, like we had done so many times before, waked to the edge of the road and threw ourselves on the mercy of the passing vehicles. Several cars went by before a brand new Subaru, going the wrong direction, stopped in the middle of the pass and asked where we were going. We told him the bbq place and he said "Oh sure, i can take you there!" We hopped in after playing tetris with our packs in the back and he pulled a U-turn to take us back the way he had come. On the short drive down he explained that he had just moved to the area and just purchased the "Trail Rated'' Subaru, which he was very excited about. 5 minutes brought us to BBQ69 where we thanked the guy, tried to give him 5 bucks and retracted our backpacks. 3 hikers sat on the porch as we came in, all giving us the classic hiker nod before we sat down. We loaded up the electrical outlets before taking a seat. I ordered a giant portion of pulled pork with a local brew and Amanda got some Tri Tip. We ate and relaxed, happy to be out of the heat. 

When we were finished stuffing ourselves, the next challenge was getting back up to the pass. As we traded our sandals back out for our hiking shoes, we started up a conversation with a group from the EU; a German and a Finn. They were headed north but also needed a lift back up the road. We headed out to Route 66 and Amanda and I took up positions on the westward travel side of the road while our european counterparts gave the east bound lane a shot (not sure why they thought hitching in the wrong direction of travel was going to work better for them, but whatever). After about 30 minutes, it became apparent we weren’t getting a ride on what used to be the country's most popular road. Just as we were about to lose hope, I noticed a woman coming out of the restaurant to her Dodge pick-up. I approached her and asked if she would be willing to take the 4 of us up to the pass. She was hesitant as it wasn’t in the direction she was headed but I told her we could pay and that it wasn’t that far. She was also worried because she had a bed cover on the pickup and couldn’t open it for us as there was a ton of equipment in the back. We assured her we would take any ride that avoided an extra hour long hike and 2000 feet of elevation gain. Finally, she agreed to take some money and give us a ride up. It turned out to be a pretty terrifying experience. The bed cover, which had to stay down due to al the equipment in the bed already, was glossy and despite our firefighter savior trying to take it slow, we still slid precariously around on the top as she navigated the sharp turns up to Green Springs Mountain Pass. Eventually, we made it to the top, a little shaken but no worse for wear. We said goodbye to the German and the Finn and thanked our hitch for the ride before heading off. 

Amanda and I headed south, struggling with full stomachs and in the heat of the day. A short distance beyond we took a break in a meadow to film our anniversary video. Turns out mosquito nets make great mock veils for such a video. After that we walked just until dark. We were only going into Ashland the next day so there was limited drive to go on into the dark. We stopped at a campground not far from Baldy Creek and set up in the shade of a single cops of trees. A spring nearby provided water and another couple joined us later in the evening. We watched a gorgeous sunset, did some easy yoga and went to bed.

Day 83: Huckleberries

8/7/2023

Section: Milepost 1774.6 to 1750.0

Total Trail Miles: 1189.3

Distance:  25.45 Miles  

Moving Time: 09:52 

Elevation Gain: 2700 ft

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Ah, so…many…huckleberries today! We had not expected there to be many this early in the year. In Washington they usually don’t appear until deep August or early September but they were out and Amanda and I were happy to see it….which made things a little slow in this stage.

The path today descends a very short distance before crossing highway 140 and continuing through lava rock fields around the western flanks of Brown Mountain (real original name…). The trail crosses a large network of forest service roads before reaching a forestry shelter where a broken pump would yield a good flow of water after some effort. From there, the path crosses through the Pederson Snowpark trailhead and continues through another labyrinth of forest service roads, eventually winding around Old Baldy and traveling west over Griffen Pass. From here, the PCT moves southwest towards Howard Prairie Lake and the final destination for the day, Apserkaha cabin camp. 

We woke a little later than usual due to the late stop last night. Fortunately, the overly friendly deer had left the tent alone most of the night so we were able to get a good sleep. We had some breakfast and started downtrail, continuing to follow the Cascade Canal downstream. Before we closed the short gap to highway 140, we ran into the couple we had talked to at the Tehachapi BBQ place who had also seen the strange comet the night before we did on the LA Viaduct. At Amanda’s insistence I told them what my dad had told me about the strange red burst across the sky - that it was Elon Musk’s “StarLink” project to provide Wi-Fi to everyone worldwide. They listened intently and then we talked briefly about the paths ahead of us before moving on south.

The trail crossed the highway only about half a mile from where we camped and then, almost immediately, transitioned to lava rock. Lava rock got a bad wrap for us in central Oregon, especially around McKenzie pass where sharp mounds in the middle of the trail would annihilate the souls of our feet. Here, on the south side of Highway 140, it was actually not too terrible. The trail here had been filled in with nicely pulverized lava rock to fill in gaps and make the path surprisingly smooth and painless to walk on. There was some blowdown but, other than that, we moved very quickly in the early sections of this trail. The first huckleberries showed up shortly after the lava rock ended, about 8 miles in and we gorged ourselves. They were perfectly ripe and so delicious. I promised Amanda, then and there, that we would set up a specific trip next summer in late august, pack in pancake mix and all of our backpacking cookware to take full advantage of these delicious little packets of sugar, since I was pushing us past many well laden bushes on this trip. 

Not far after the huckleberries we arrived at the South Brown Mountain Shelter where we shook off our packs and settled in on a picnic table. We sat for a few minutes, munching on the snacks we had allocated for the day and then approached the old style pump. The handle had been stolen, which was abominable since it was not easy to use alone without it. Amanda held the bladder under the spout while I manually pushed up on the casing. It was a hard push but 1 or 2 lifts was all that was needed to fill 2 liters and Amanda was suddenly telling me to stop. We took the water back and, though it likely didn’t need to be filtered, we ran it through the Sawyer. As we finished filtering, an older group from Eugene and Junction City showed up. We had a somewhat grating conversation with the woman from Junction City which eventually smoothed out. They were in their late 60’s, early 70’s and hiking the entire Oregon section. After about 10 more minutes we bid adieu before continuing south. 

As we left the cabin, a NOBO couple enjoying the huckleberries stopped us to spread the good word about the berries. “Oh no,” i said with a smile “we’ve already lost an hour to these things.” They smiled at us in understanding and we continued on. The rest of the day passed with relative ease. We crossed through a series of forestry service road labyrinths, only having to check Gaia a few times to keep things in order. I noted a few good places that might be worth coming back to for trail angeling next year and we cruised on. 

After some annoying climbing late in the day, Howard Prairie Lake came into view. We followed the banks for a while and crossed some more gravel roads before the turn-off for our destination came into sight. This was Apserkaha cabin camp, a large area down by the banks of the lake, characterized by about 20 small cabins and 15 campsites. Usually, the place was reserved by school and church camps for a weekend gathering but, on the evening we arrived, it was completely empty. Amanda dropped into the seats at the outdoor communal dining area and I went up to the campsites where a single 5th wheel trailer sat outfitted with little blue string lights. I knocked on the door and a short shrew of a man answered with a nice smile. “Hello,” i said “sorry it’s late, but my wife and i just arrived and were hoping we could get a cabin.” He looked at me confused for a second and then smiled before coming down out of the trailer. We walked down to the common area where he gave us a little spiel and then said he would unlock cabin number 12 and bring us some watermelon. We thanked him and Amanda took her stuff to the cabin and showered while I paid and accepted the watermelon from the host who calls himself Pepper. Pepper then gave me most of his life’s story only stopping to let me go when I started stretching out my hamstrings. I said goodnight and thanked him for letting us into the cabin before joining Amanda for a delicious ramen dinner. Afterwards, I took a shower and brushed my teeth before returning to the cabin and passing out for the night.