The elevation profile looked particularly benign today, so when we set off this morning it looked to be a fairly comfortable day. But by the time we reached a road crossing little more than four miles into the day, we sat by the side of the road contemplating what to do. Beardoh had been struggling with worsening indigestion, stomach cramps, and fatigue the entire week…
Archives for July 2016
The Great Western Swing
Tearing yourself away from the creature comforts of air conditioning and a bed can be pretty tough when the forecast is for over 100 degrees outside, yet there we were strolling through the empty, quiet streets of Mt. Shasta just after 6am, heading for the I-5 onramp.
Mount Shasta
The heat wave continued, though we rarely suffered the sun's full wrath since the trail was mostly covered in shade. Beardoh even remarked how much the trail reminded him of the Appalachian Trail, a.k.a. the "Long Green Tunnel."
Head Down, Feet Forward
When the lack of phenomenally exciting terrain and pure logistics inevitably collide from time to time, certain trail days become more about doing the miles than anything else. Today was Exhibit A of this collision. But before the clock became our master for the day, we were treated to some beautiful scenery just after sunrise as the shroud of night began to lift from the landscape to our west.
The Battle of Attrition
The heat wave again had us starting early to take advantage of what little relief was to be had by hiking in the comparative cool of the morning. That sticky feeling you get, even at such an early hour, often portends the inferno yet to come and today was no exception. The refuge of the shade was the only meager relief available from the oppressive heat.
Migraine Meltdown
The title very nearly says it all as the migraine that began its infancy late last night blossomed into its adolescence in the first hours of hiking this morning. Having to pause and take my medication put somewhat of a damper on an otherwise celebratory moment when we came across a small cooler near a road crossing that contained a handful of cold beers.
Desert Redux
The thermometer is not my friend, or at best our relationship is strained. Today was further evidence of that fact. Hitting the trail a bit before 6am to get a jump on the impending heat, the Hat Creek Rim stretched still another 10 miles and beyond that another 6 awaited before the next water source. It was the desert all over again.
What Do You Mean There's No Water?
Just when memories of the searing heat and long waterless stretches of the desert had drifted deep into the recesses of my mind, it all came abruptly flooding back...but I'll come back to that.
One Bear, One Person
In spite of the increasingly warmer weather, we awoke to a very chilly morning enough so that we each started hiking with our down jackets on. The initial climb and descent were an abject lesson in the katabatic effect. As we climbed a mere hundred or two feet out of our camp by a small river the air immediately began to warm, only to have the chill swiftly return…
A Day of Firsts
The clock had not struck 6am and yet there he was, a man holding an urn of coffee and a box of donuts outside my tent. His name was Chipmunk, a local trail angel, and while he'd come by to setup some trail magic at the road crossing not 200 yards away he'd spotted our tents and walked over to give us first dibs on his breakfast goodies. Trail magic while still in my sleeping bag.
Halfway!
For me, the anticipation of today began to build only a few days ago when I realized that nearing the 1300-mile mark also meant that the halfway point of the trail would follow close behind. It's hard to fathom, really. After all, I can no better comprehend the distance of 100 miles or 500 miles any more than I can 1,325 miles.
What Goes Down Must Come Up
The sad truth about resupply stops in town is that nothing comes for free. Sure, there's the whole looking forward to showering, doing laundry, eating, and sleeping in a bed thing, and getting there inevitably involves several thousand feet of descent from the height of the mountains.
No Rave Here
Only a few miles today, all descending down a lengthy series of poison oak choked switchbacks into the town of Belden for a day of rest and resupply. Known for raves attended by thousands of people each summer weekend, the town was blissfully quiet and empty on this Monday morning. "Town" is a bit of a misnomer when it comes to Belden.
Coppertone Strikes Again
Some days everything seems to go right, and this was one of those days. Yesterday's good fortune of spending the night at Nancy & Terry's cabin in the woods was perhaps the most relaxing and satisfying surprise of the entire trail thus far and the trend only continued this morning when we were greeted with coffee, pancakes, bacon and eggs for breakfast.
The Unexpected
This is going to be a very short post as I fight the sleep that is beginning to hang on my eyelids, but the uneventful miles today quickly morphed into a most unexpected evening. Three miles before a road crossing in the late afternoon, a handwritten sign placed next to the trail described a family that was offering to host thru-hikers for the night, a mere two mile walk down the road.
The California Blues
Already mid-July, and I'm still in California. This is one long, though beautiful, state. With the Sierra gradually drifting behind us, the trail is inching lower and lower in elevation each day and tomorrow we'll briefly dip all the way down below 3,000 feet--an elevation the trail hasn't descended to since it followed the Los Angeles aqueduct over 700 miles ago.
The Psychology of Gear
I've wanted to write this particular post for quite awhile now, but it's never felt like quite the right time until today. As we began our traverse of the upper slopes of the Sierra Buttes, the loose broken rock uttering the occasional tinkle like shattered glass beneath my feet, my mind performed its customary morning wandering and eventually landed on a traditional hiker subject: gear.
Food. Did I Mention Food?
The bulk of the day was spent getting into and out of the charmingly small town of Sierra City for a resupply, a couple of town meals, and whatever attempt to clean ourselves up that we could cobble together. Only a mile and a half from the PCT, it's a convenient stop in a one street town comprised of only a restaurant, a general store and grill, a church, and a post office…
I Am the Buffet
By the time I awoke this morning, the chill of the air overnight had mercifully chased the hordes of mosquitoes from the air. As Beardoh, Sweet Pea and I struck out for the first miles of the morning, the trail began to tilt up out of our low lying campsite into the sunlight and the warmth of its early rays.
Donner Pass
Of the three historical signs I passed this morning commemorating various points of interest around the crossing of Donner Pass, not one of them mentioned the infamous and ill-fated Donner Party. And rather than rehash the gruesome story of their fate in my mind, I stood for a few moments along the now quiet Highway 40…
The Birth of Wildflowers
Slowly but surely these past few days, my attention has begun to shift away from the miles of stunning scenery and towards the ground that had for so long been comprised of either dusty desert or shrinking snowpack. The calendar may have fooled you into thinking it's summer, but up here spring is just beginning…
Lake Tahoe Blue
Since yesterday morning, the PCT has coincided with the Tahoe Rim Trail, a loop that circumnavigates Lake Tahoe in the mountains high above. Surprisingly, there have only been pocket glimpses of the lake itself, but each time it appears its sapphire waters are unmistakable. I've resolved to dub the shade of its water "Lake Tahoe blue".
Desolation
With Proton having left the house early this morning, Beardoh, Sweet Pea, Dreamcatcher and I enjoyed one final breakfast at the house before contacting a local trail angel named Sue for a ride back to the trail. Happening to be at the grocery store only a few minutes walk down the street, we met her in the parking lot…
Nearos and Zeros
An extremely brief morning of hiking was punctuated by one final surprise just as we reached the highway that would take us into South Lake Tahoe for some much anticipated time off: another sighting of Coppertone and his van of trail magic. Setup in a nearby stand of trees was his usual arrangement of camp chairs surrounding a small table.
Anticipation
Like a kid on Christmas Eve, my mind was distracted all day today with thoughts not of the present but of the very near future. Tomorrow, our little hiking band rolls into South Lake Tahoe for nearly three full days of rest that each and every one of us has been looking forward to for several weeks now. But far more than that, as much as I've been satisfying an enormous part of who I am with this trail adventure…
Ice Chutes of Certain Death
There's a social phenomena that occurs on every long distance trail with a decent amount of foot traffic, and though it's referred to by many names my personal favorite is "the vortex of fear." In a sense, it is one giant version of the telephone game where news of conditions, weather, or terrain further up the trail becomes filtered through the minds and perspectives of dozens, if not hundreds, of hikers before making its way to your ear.
Crumbled Crags
I pondered this sentiment as I began to take my first steps of the morning, thinking of how one of history's most famous mountaineers had redefined what it means to triumph, to succeed in any wilderness endeavor. Far from a rousing barroom tale of adrenaline-filled daring, each success is less a story about the outward achievement and more about the inner struggle…
Happy Canada Day
The calendar turned a new page today into the month of July, marking yet another small milestone and reminding me of all the little ways in which thru-hikers both mark progress and also motivate themselves to continue pushing down the trail: every 100 miles, 1/4 of the way, 1/3 of the way, half way there, the next town stop, a new calendar month, every trail month, a new state…