If anyone has been waiting anxiously to hear my post-op analysis on my trip, I apologize - the real world has been awfully busy lately. My main priority has been graduating on time, and that's kept the time for reflection down to a minimum. The first piece of my reflection is a summary of my trip in numbers. In doing this I realized two posts never went up while I was on the trail, so I've added those to the blog in the correct timeline.
I started hiking on May 18th, and finished hiking on August 16th, for a total of 91 days out in the woods. During that time I hiked a total of 1321 miles, including 1241 on trail and an additional 80 off-trail (up Mount Whitney, in and out Kearsarge Pass, to Yosemite Valley, etc). I took 19 zero days, of which 11 were for recovery from my stress fracture, and another three were to skip up to Crater Lake. That means I took 3 on trail zeros, which was about what I planned to do. I took an additional 7 'nero' days where I hiked 10 miles or less (3 were for my stress fracture recovery), and these were generally going into or out of town.
My overall average pace for the summer was 14.5 miles per day.
Excluding the time out for injuries, my average pace was 16.6 miles per day.
On the days that I hiked, my average pace was just about 20 miles per day.
One thing I didn't realize going in was how easy it is to give in to the temptation to cut a mile or two off of each day. When you're tired towards the evening and its starting to get darker, you may happen upon a great campsite. Many times I didn't have the mental fortitude to push past it and gave in to my desire to rest right there. Over a couple weeks that adds up and can really throw the schedule off in the long term. Offhand I can think of at least a half dozen times this happened, like at Fred Canyon Creek, just after Paradise Valley Cafe, after Mission Creek, and coming up to Baden Powell to name a few from the first three weeks.
Its actually a ton of fun seeing all the data for my whole hike. Looking back I can find places I made mistakes and how I would improve if I did it all over again (and yes, that idea is lurking in the back of my mind). I totally understand now when more experienced hikers talk about how hiking gets in your blood, I can say with absolute certainty I'll be getting back out there when I have the chance.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Grad School - Less Than 1 Month to Go!
So for those of you who followed me here on my PCT adventure, I'm giving you fair warning that I've transitioned back to 'real life' and I have a few disclaimers if you've only read my hiking posts
1) Things won't be quite so exciting, and I have no intention of updating daily (as evidenced by the last two months without a single post)
2) There won't be nearly so many scenic photos with each post
3) I still plan to write for my personal enjoyment and hope you enjoy reading the final product
As a quick update, I'm now fully immersed in my Master's program, and I'm just about a month away from graduation in December. I'm wrapping up my research project and beginning the process of writing my thesis. In fact, I've been frustrated with the writing process there, so I was inspired to come back here to post as a way to help the words start flowing.
A few reflections on this semester (and yes, I promise to write some reflections about my hiking at a later date) and how its been different than my undergraduate experience. For starters, I don't have the typical grad school schedule because I squeezed everything into less than a year, so I'm taking more classes than most would in my situation. I've been studying controls, railroads (ostensibly as prep for my job) and creativity. On top of that I've been doing research, which is a bottomless sinkhole of time. On multiple occasions I've walked into the computer lab around noon, not to leave until after midnight. The joys of computer modeling... I've developed a serious love-hate relationship with MATLAB, which has supplanted Excel in that role.
I've been most intrigued by the balance (or lack thereof) between classes and research. I used to split my time between different courses and requirements, but I've found that this year I need to take an all-or-nothing approach. Three days of hard core work on research followed by one day of frantically catching up on my classwork has become the norm. I think the root of that is the more involved nature of my research, and it isn't nearly as easy to turn that on or off. Once I start delving into the theory and derivations for some of this stuff, it seems like a terrible waste to work on other things once I'm on a roll. So my time management has been radically altered from the more balanced approach in undergrad.
The social aspects of this year have been interesting too. Many of my friends have graduated, pursuing gainful employment rather than continued studies. At first Champaign seemed empty and it was harder to get groups of friends together (if and when I had time to spare). But at the same time, it was good because it forced me to explore new areas of the campus that I hadn't seen before. The big one has been the Illini Swing Society, which has been a fun relief during the week. I've taken Lindy Hop lessons once a week and its been nice to have a scheduled break one night a week to get out and do something totally different from my daily work. It gives my left brain a break and focuses on right brain functions which I exercise much less frequently.
Additionally, I've been trying to run more again this semester, with mixed results. For starters I've found out that hiking fitness and running fitness are not the same thing. I had to restart from lower mileage, so I'm working in the range of 4 mile runs at this point. Finding the time to get out there is a bigger challenge, but when I have been able to, its been quite refreshing. For me its all about getting out of the academic environment for an hour or two and physically challenging myself. I did a solid 5k with EWB a couple weeks ago and it was a ton of fun to run a race again. Sadly, they didn't have an award for the first place grad student, because I totally won in that category (did I mention I was the only grad student running?). I've struggled a bit with the cold weather lately, but at least I have the ARC track if it gets too nasty out.
I have to say I've thoroughly enjoyed my grad experience up to this point, and while the next month of thesis writing may shift my opinion to some extent, I am very glad I had the opportunity to add this to my college experience. I can't believe in just a few months I'll be starting a new phase of my life with the beginning of my rotational program in Erie, PA.
1) Things won't be quite so exciting, and I have no intention of updating daily (as evidenced by the last two months without a single post)
2) There won't be nearly so many scenic photos with each post
3) I still plan to write for my personal enjoyment and hope you enjoy reading the final product
As a quick update, I'm now fully immersed in my Master's program, and I'm just about a month away from graduation in December. I'm wrapping up my research project and beginning the process of writing my thesis. In fact, I've been frustrated with the writing process there, so I was inspired to come back here to post as a way to help the words start flowing.
A few reflections on this semester (and yes, I promise to write some reflections about my hiking at a later date) and how its been different than my undergraduate experience. For starters, I don't have the typical grad school schedule because I squeezed everything into less than a year, so I'm taking more classes than most would in my situation. I've been studying controls, railroads (ostensibly as prep for my job) and creativity. On top of that I've been doing research, which is a bottomless sinkhole of time. On multiple occasions I've walked into the computer lab around noon, not to leave until after midnight. The joys of computer modeling... I've developed a serious love-hate relationship with MATLAB, which has supplanted Excel in that role.
I've been most intrigued by the balance (or lack thereof) between classes and research. I used to split my time between different courses and requirements, but I've found that this year I need to take an all-or-nothing approach. Three days of hard core work on research followed by one day of frantically catching up on my classwork has become the norm. I think the root of that is the more involved nature of my research, and it isn't nearly as easy to turn that on or off. Once I start delving into the theory and derivations for some of this stuff, it seems like a terrible waste to work on other things once I'm on a roll. So my time management has been radically altered from the more balanced approach in undergrad.
The social aspects of this year have been interesting too. Many of my friends have graduated, pursuing gainful employment rather than continued studies. At first Champaign seemed empty and it was harder to get groups of friends together (if and when I had time to spare). But at the same time, it was good because it forced me to explore new areas of the campus that I hadn't seen before. The big one has been the Illini Swing Society, which has been a fun relief during the week. I've taken Lindy Hop lessons once a week and its been nice to have a scheduled break one night a week to get out and do something totally different from my daily work. It gives my left brain a break and focuses on right brain functions which I exercise much less frequently.
Additionally, I've been trying to run more again this semester, with mixed results. For starters I've found out that hiking fitness and running fitness are not the same thing. I had to restart from lower mileage, so I'm working in the range of 4 mile runs at this point. Finding the time to get out there is a bigger challenge, but when I have been able to, its been quite refreshing. For me its all about getting out of the academic environment for an hour or two and physically challenging myself. I did a solid 5k with EWB a couple weeks ago and it was a ton of fun to run a race again. Sadly, they didn't have an award for the first place grad student, because I totally won in that category (did I mention I was the only grad student running?). I've struggled a bit with the cold weather lately, but at least I have the ARC track if it gets too nasty out.
I have to say I've thoroughly enjoyed my grad experience up to this point, and while the next month of thesis writing may shift my opinion to some extent, I am very glad I had the opportunity to add this to my college experience. I can't believe in just a few months I'll be starting a new phase of my life with the beginning of my rotational program in Erie, PA.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Day 92-93 (8/17-18) Homeward Bound
After
a nice relaxing morning on sleeping in, showering, then going back to
sleep (three things I never got to do on the trail), I repacked my gear
and headed back towards the bus stop. Today had a strange feel to it. I
had pretty much 12 hours to take a 10 mile bus ride, so I had to get
used to the idea of having nothing to do. First stop, Taco Bell for a
hearty dose of everything that I love about fast food. Also, unlimited
refills on fountain drinks! Who needs to worry about rationing that last
liter of water now? Just go back to fill up your 32oz cup again and
keep on drinking. After lunch I paid a full $4.50 for the bus ride, and
arrived in Dunsmuir around 1pm. Now I only had 11 hours to kill. Since
my legs were already complaining about the amount of sitting and lack of
exercise I went for a walk through the town, up main street on one
side, then back through the ‘shopping district’ one street over. That
took no more than an hour despite spending as much time as I could
wandering and perusing everything.
Next stop was the post office, where I arranged to have my boxes from Etna shipped back home. That would save me the hassle of trying to do it from Deerfield. With all of my chores completed, the only thing left to do was head over to the burger joint for a blackberry malt. Did I mention its HOT around here? I’m used to hanging out in the mountains around 5-6,000 ft, and this town is probably closer to 2,000. Boy it makes a difference, and I was so glad for air conditioning on a day like this. I whiled away the time by catching up on some of my favorite online comic strips on my phone, then when that was done I wandered over to a thrift shop and picked up a pair of books for my flight. The first is Player Piano by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. and the second is Cradle by Arthur C. Clarke and Gentry Lee. I’m not sure which I’m looking forward to more, but I’ll start with Vonnegut since its shorter. Its been a few years since I’ve read a book for pleasure, so this should be a nice refresher. I headed back to the burger place for an ice cream cone and worked a little bit on my journals. I expected to feel very emotional right now, but it hasn’t really set in. I’m curious when that’ll happen and how it’ll hit me.
When
the burger joint closed around 5 I decided I felt like pizza for
dinner. They would be open until 10, so it would be the perfect place to
hang out until I was getting closer to the midnight train. I ordered a
‘personal’ pan pizza, or rather, I personally ordered a large pan pizza,
and proceeded to slowly work through the whole thing. I have to remind
myself that I shouldn’t be eating like I’m out on the trail anymore,
because I’ll quickly put on a ton of weight if I keep this up. For the
next few days I think its okay though, as my body is probably going to
be working overtime to finally fix and repair all the little things I’ve
damaged and haven’t allowed to heal. The hours seemed to drag on
despite the various distractions of my phone and book. Finally the
restaurant was closing, so I walked a few blocks down to the train
station. I settled into a nice chair and continued reading, though I was
admittedly starting to get tired by this point. Plus, around 10:30 a
woman and her daughter came in, the daughter immediately falling asleep
on the bench, and then started snoring! If there is anything that makes a
tired person super jealous, and extra tired, it is watching (or
hearing) another person sleeping. I had to keep standing up and moving
around to make sure I wouldn’t drift off. Finally it was near midnight
and I decided to wait outside to watch for the train. I haven’t ridden
Amtrak since early in my youth, so this was another new experience for
me. Those of us without physical tickets were taken to the dining car
where we checked in and paid, then were assigned a seat in the main car
where we could sleep. Although the seats are more spacious than those on
a plane, I had no success finding a comfortable position that didn’t
involve jamming my knees into the upright tray table. I drifted off to
sleep only to find myself scrunched up on the floor with my head against
the seat. Somehow my unconscious self found the only comfortable
(though very unconventional) way to sleep in this seat. I drifted back
to sleep after setting my alarm for 6am.
We arrived in Sacramento 45 minutes early, before my alarm went off, and I was fortunate to have my seat-mate shake me awake. I would hope that the conductor would’ve made rounds to wake people up, but this worked out well. I couldn’t believe how early we were, and made my way out and into the train station. There I indulged in a huge cup of coffee and a muffin to try to shake off the cobwebs from a short night’s sleep. I hung out for a bit, gathering my bearings before looking for a cab to the airport. It was going to be $35 to go just 11 miles to the airport, compared to $60 to take the train 200 miles to get here. I was a bit frustrated, but lacking other options I hopped in and 15 minutes later was standing outside the airport.
Security at the
airport was no problem, and I was able to get a heavy garbage bag to
protect my pack from having the straps torn off. From that point on, it
was just a waiting game, spending my time alternating between catching
up with the real world on my phone and reading my book. I had a short
layover in Phoenix, and then I rocketed back east to Chicago and home. I
picked up my bag and walked outside the terminal where I met my dad. It
was good to see him and I really just can’t believe its already over.
At home I got to see my mom for the first time in three months (she
couldn’t come visit this summer since she’s been working a new job), and
we all got to talk a bunch while I proceeded to devour anything set in
front of me. It’s good to be home, though that will be short lived as
grad school resumes in just 3 days!
In the course of 8 hours I travelled more than the distance I walked this entire summer, but I think the last three months have given me a much better perspective on things. Sometimes its the miles that matter, but in my case, I see the most important part as the way you cover those miles. I’ve met dozens and dozens of amazing people out on the trail, experienced some of the most wonderful parts of the country, and had a great chance to step back from the rush of daily life to live fully in the moment. No, I didn’t make it all 2,600 miles to Canada this year, but looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Miles Today: ~2 around town
Trip Mileage: 1318
*Note - I think part of my delay in posting the last few entries has been a desire not to admit that this amazing trip is actually over. With this post I’m finally closing out the narrative of my experiences, though I’ve been working on a few reflective posts to talk about how this trip affected me and where I go from here. Thanks for sticking with me this summer, and I hope you enjoyed reading these posts as much as I enjoyed writing them! - Brian
Next stop was the post office, where I arranged to have my boxes from Etna shipped back home. That would save me the hassle of trying to do it from Deerfield. With all of my chores completed, the only thing left to do was head over to the burger joint for a blackberry malt. Did I mention its HOT around here? I’m used to hanging out in the mountains around 5-6,000 ft, and this town is probably closer to 2,000. Boy it makes a difference, and I was so glad for air conditioning on a day like this. I whiled away the time by catching up on some of my favorite online comic strips on my phone, then when that was done I wandered over to a thrift shop and picked up a pair of books for my flight. The first is Player Piano by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. and the second is Cradle by Arthur C. Clarke and Gentry Lee. I’m not sure which I’m looking forward to more, but I’ll start with Vonnegut since its shorter. Its been a few years since I’ve read a book for pleasure, so this should be a nice refresher. I headed back to the burger place for an ice cream cone and worked a little bit on my journals. I expected to feel very emotional right now, but it hasn’t really set in. I’m curious when that’ll happen and how it’ll hit me.
 |
| The Amtrak train as I got off in Sacramento |
We arrived in Sacramento 45 minutes early, before my alarm went off, and I was fortunate to have my seat-mate shake me awake. I would hope that the conductor would’ve made rounds to wake people up, but this worked out well. I couldn’t believe how early we were, and made my way out and into the train station. There I indulged in a huge cup of coffee and a muffin to try to shake off the cobwebs from a short night’s sleep. I hung out for a bit, gathering my bearings before looking for a cab to the airport. It was going to be $35 to go just 11 miles to the airport, compared to $60 to take the train 200 miles to get here. I was a bit frustrated, but lacking other options I hopped in and 15 minutes later was standing outside the airport.
 |
| My flight home! |
In the course of 8 hours I travelled more than the distance I walked this entire summer, but I think the last three months have given me a much better perspective on things. Sometimes its the miles that matter, but in my case, I see the most important part as the way you cover those miles. I’ve met dozens and dozens of amazing people out on the trail, experienced some of the most wonderful parts of the country, and had a great chance to step back from the rush of daily life to live fully in the moment. No, I didn’t make it all 2,600 miles to Canada this year, but looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Miles Today: ~2 around town
Trip Mileage: 1318
*Note - I think part of my delay in posting the last few entries has been a desire not to admit that this amazing trip is actually over. With this post I’m finally closing out the narrative of my experiences, though I’ve been working on a few reflective posts to talk about how this trip affected me and where I go from here. Thanks for sticking with me this summer, and I hope you enjoyed reading these posts as much as I enjoyed writing them! - Brian
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Day 91 (8/16) Moving Quick (Or At Least Trying To)
After my late night yesterday I had no desire for an early morning today. Nonetheless, I forced myself to get up and moving because time was of the essence. I still had another 55 miles to go, and I needed to finish by tomorrow evening. Not unreachable, but definitely moving faster than the last few days. The first thing I noticed was that the pain in my foot had not abated overnight, and it was only by walking gingerly that I could avoid a return of the piercing sensation in my sole. Progress was slower that I would’ve liked, but I pushed myself ahead of a 2.5 mph pace, which was more than enough to get me to the finish line in time for the train.
I spent less time today admiring the scenery than I would’ve liked, as I was busy keeping a watchful eye on the ground underfoot, deftly avoiding stepping on anything that might cause discomfort. A couple hours into the morning I ran into a pair of gentlemen who were happy to chat for a bit. I was happy to rest my feet, so I was more than willing to chat as well. We got to talking about my experiences earlier on the trail and how I had been injured in the Sierras. A funny expression came over John’s face as he exclaimed “I’ve read about you on the PCT-L!”. For those who aren’t familiar, this is the listserv for any PCT related discussions, and apparently someone had heard my story and relayed it in this online forum. What a small world. I promised I’d try to dig up that post to add my own two cents to the story of my experience out there. After bidding them farewell, I very soon ran into Crasher and her parents who had joined her for a short section on the trail. She’s one of the few solo women I’ve met out here, and I don’t really understand why that isn’t more common. I’m familiar with family concerns about safety and so forth, but once you get out here its easy enough to pair up with other people during the sketchy sections while still maintaining an independent hiking pace and style. I think it would drive me crazy to be tied to a hiker partner for the whole trip like some people are. Just another 20 minutes down the trail I ran into ANOTHER set of hikers, and I was starting to think I was coming up on a pretty sizable pack. I only chatted with these two for a short while as I was feeling an urge to start making miles and though I enjoy talking, I could feel the clock ticking in the back of my mind.
Well, as it was, I would only make it 10 feet down the trail after saying goodbye to this pair before I knew I was in for a long break. Up ahead on the trail there was none other than Positive ID, still wearing that same orange soccer jersey with the company logo ‘Bimbo’ on the front. He’s lucky that didn’t become his trail name! It was a happy reunion, and we shared stories of everything that had happened since we parted way back at Kearsarge Pass. He had taken a week off to visit friends in San Francisco, so he had dropped behind many of the people who were with us at Independence. Nonetheless, over the next month he steadily progressed northward and caught up to every single one of them except for Drop Dead who I had seen a few days prior. Pretty impressive if you ask me. I’m awed by the fact that in the early parts of my trip I spent a good amount of time hiking with two guys (Noah and Positive ID) who have been able to consistently power through the miles and keep up a backbreaking pace for three months straight - a pace that sidelined me for a few weeks when my body decided enough was enough! It was really amazing to get to see him one last time, and I wished him the best on the last 1,000 miles of his trek. Watching him hike away really made it sink in that this was the end of my journey; I was coming down to the final day, and boy what a ride it had been. A crazy mix of emotions bubbled up inside me, as my mind raced to replay a highlight reel of my experiences out here. I was overcome with the magnitude of what I’ve done so far, and the magnitude of what I’ll be leaving unfinished.
The rest of the day moved on as a blur as I charged ahead, trying my best to make up time and close the distance to Castella where I could finally stop, finally rest, finally call it quits. Somewhere in the next few hours I started limping as my foot became raw again and the rocks underfoot continued to mercilessly wear away at the practically unprotected flesh. I’d been counting on solid progress all day, but at 4pm I had only covered 16 miles when I reached a remote trailhead. My trail maps don’t make note of any towns down the road, and it wasn’t even listed in the guidebook, so I wasn’t expecting it too be much. But, at this point I was facing a harsh reality - my feet were no longer in decent walking condition. In normal circumstances I would’ve stopped days ago to soak and rest them, giving them a chance to recover and heal properly. But I’d booked my travel already, and that put me in a bind. Slowing down would’ve helped my feet heal and let me walk faster, but I didn’t want to lose the time needed for rest. Well, that series of decisions left me here, 39 miles from my train, with just about 28 hours to get there. For once my extreme optimism in my abilities was tempered by a sobering dose of reality. I might be able to make it, but I’d have to hike through most of the night, and it would absolutely destroy my feet. As much as a macho part of me wanted to just stand back up and push onward, logic prevailed. I started laying out my options. This was the last road before Castella, so if I wanted to bail, this was the time. There was a parking lot with a few cars, but who knows when they would be back. I decided to give it an hour as I ate some food and elevated my poor feet. Only 15 minutes later a car drove up, and I went over to talk to the driver after he parked. He was going backpacking out here for a few days, and was quite helpful. He showed me the road map of where this road led, and which towns were nearby. He also mentioned there was good cell service just down the hill. I began formulating a plan. It was 10 miles down the road to town, and then another 30 to Dunsmuir where I would catch my train. If I hiked partway down tonight I could get to town in the morning, then either hitch or find a bus or taxi to get me to the train station. I put in a call home to my Dad and discussed the plan, and he agreed that this was the most sensible idea. Part of me just wanted to make sure that I was acting rationally and wasn’t missing anything as I decided to deviate from the original plan. I was surprisingly unconcerned about missing those last 39 miles into Castella. Sure, I’d wanted to visit Castle Crags state park, and hit my official 1332 mile midpoint of the trail. A certain calm had settled over me, and as I started walking down the road, I was actually smiling about the situation. Well, my smile turned into a full, uncontrollable grin less than two miles later when a sedan pulled alongside me and offered me a ride. Not just that, but she was going all the way to Mt. Shasta, which was 10 miles from Dunsmuir, and had a bus that ran there every hour. It was so perfect I could’ve cried.
I talked to my impromptu trail angel for the whole ride, and it was cool to hear her story. She hadn’t done much hiking ever since spending a few years as a backcountry forest ranger during her 20’s, but had just recently decided to try it out again. She said my story inspired her to stick with it and make this a greater priority in her life. Then, she wouldn’t even take any cash for the ride, and I was totally floored that someone would drive me nearly 30 miles just out of the goodness of her heart. What a perfect experience to end this magical trip. She dropped me right at the main hotel in Mt Shasta, and gave me directions to the bus stop and convenience store before heading on her way. Wow, I just couldn’t believe how well that had turned out. Just two hours ago I had been weighing my options at the trail, and somehow in that time I had been speedily whisked away off the trail and into the comfort of city life.
Of course, every fairy tale has a few rough spots. In this case, it was the fact that for some reason this hotel, and the rest of the downtown hotels were fully booked on a Tuesday evening. I ended up walking a full mile out to a hotel with one room left - a massive queen suite that was more luxury than I’ve seen in years. The lady at the desk was super nice and gave me a pretty reasonable rate considering how nice the room was and the fact that I had almost no other choice for lodging. My first priority was a shower, followed by another shower, and then dinner. I walked back a ways to the Black Bear Diner, where I ordered a massive Tri-Tip dinner, a salad, and a malt, and proceeded to make each one of them disappear. Finally feeling satisfied I made my way back to the hotel where I indulged in a little bit of TV, watching a couple episodes of Top Shot before collapsing into the all too plush queen bed. After months of sleeping on a thin foam pad, or occasionally a cot or cheap bed, this was beyond anything I could have dreamed of. My body didn’t know how to react, and I struggled to fall asleep. For a moment I was tempted to pull out my mat and sleep on the floor, but that seemed like an awful waste of a fantastic hotel room. In the end I did drift away to sleep, thankful that for the first time since May 18th there were no more miles to walk tomorrow.
Miles Today: 16 (+3)
Trip Mileage: 1318
PCT Mile Marker: 1545
 |
| Gorgeous lake with Mt. Shasta |
 |
| Positive ID! |
The rest of the day moved on as a blur as I charged ahead, trying my best to make up time and close the distance to Castella where I could finally stop, finally rest, finally call it quits. Somewhere in the next few hours I started limping as my foot became raw again and the rocks underfoot continued to mercilessly wear away at the practically unprotected flesh. I’d been counting on solid progress all day, but at 4pm I had only covered 16 miles when I reached a remote trailhead. My trail maps don’t make note of any towns down the road, and it wasn’t even listed in the guidebook, so I wasn’t expecting it too be much. But, at this point I was facing a harsh reality - my feet were no longer in decent walking condition. In normal circumstances I would’ve stopped days ago to soak and rest them, giving them a chance to recover and heal properly. But I’d booked my travel already, and that put me in a bind. Slowing down would’ve helped my feet heal and let me walk faster, but I didn’t want to lose the time needed for rest. Well, that series of decisions left me here, 39 miles from my train, with just about 28 hours to get there. For once my extreme optimism in my abilities was tempered by a sobering dose of reality. I might be able to make it, but I’d have to hike through most of the night, and it would absolutely destroy my feet. As much as a macho part of me wanted to just stand back up and push onward, logic prevailed. I started laying out my options. This was the last road before Castella, so if I wanted to bail, this was the time. There was a parking lot with a few cars, but who knows when they would be back. I decided to give it an hour as I ate some food and elevated my poor feet. Only 15 minutes later a car drove up, and I went over to talk to the driver after he parked. He was going backpacking out here for a few days, and was quite helpful. He showed me the road map of where this road led, and which towns were nearby. He also mentioned there was good cell service just down the hill. I began formulating a plan. It was 10 miles down the road to town, and then another 30 to Dunsmuir where I would catch my train. If I hiked partway down tonight I could get to town in the morning, then either hitch or find a bus or taxi to get me to the train station. I put in a call home to my Dad and discussed the plan, and he agreed that this was the most sensible idea. Part of me just wanted to make sure that I was acting rationally and wasn’t missing anything as I decided to deviate from the original plan. I was surprisingly unconcerned about missing those last 39 miles into Castella. Sure, I’d wanted to visit Castle Crags state park, and hit my official 1332 mile midpoint of the trail. A certain calm had settled over me, and as I started walking down the road, I was actually smiling about the situation. Well, my smile turned into a full, uncontrollable grin less than two miles later when a sedan pulled alongside me and offered me a ride. Not just that, but she was going all the way to Mt. Shasta, which was 10 miles from Dunsmuir, and had a bus that ran there every hour. It was so perfect I could’ve cried.
I talked to my impromptu trail angel for the whole ride, and it was cool to hear her story. She hadn’t done much hiking ever since spending a few years as a backcountry forest ranger during her 20’s, but had just recently decided to try it out again. She said my story inspired her to stick with it and make this a greater priority in her life. Then, she wouldn’t even take any cash for the ride, and I was totally floored that someone would drive me nearly 30 miles just out of the goodness of her heart. What a perfect experience to end this magical trip. She dropped me right at the main hotel in Mt Shasta, and gave me directions to the bus stop and convenience store before heading on her way. Wow, I just couldn’t believe how well that had turned out. Just two hours ago I had been weighing my options at the trail, and somehow in that time I had been speedily whisked away off the trail and into the comfort of city life.
 |
| The original Black Bear diner with Mt. Shasta |
Miles Today: 16 (+3)
Trip Mileage: 1318
PCT Mile Marker: 1545
Monday, September 5, 2011
Day 90 (8/15) Making Up Lost Time
Yesterday I gave in to the pain in my feet and settled for a 19 mile day. Today, I need to cover my full mileage, plus make up for some of yesterday’s. Quite a challenge indeed, considering that things definitely didn’t fully recover overnight. But starting out, as always, I was upbeat and cheerful, looking forward to another great day of hiking. Just two miles in to the morning I started hearing a quite unusual sound, at least unusual for the middle of the wilderness. I could hear a chainsaw whining up ahead, and then it would fade away, followed by the crashing noise of a tree falling to the earth. This carried on for quite awhile as I approached the highway, where I found they were doing maintenance work along the side. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone with a chainsaw in the whole time I’ve been out here, as in National Wilderness areas they are forbidden and trail crews must use the more primitive two-man saws when clearing trees.
 |
| The distant Trinity Alps |
In
the same area I ran into a northbound section hiker (aka not doing the
full 2,600 miles this year) who was an engineering professor from
Rochester. We chatted for a bit about our shared field, and then
exchanged the usual trail reports about what we’d recently walked
through. Amazingly, he wasn’t the most interesting person I met today. A
few hours later at a trail junction I ran into an older gentleman
taking a short break. He’s a 70+ CEO of a robotic automation company,
and every summer takes a couple one week trips out hiking. He was a
blast to talk to, and it helped reinforce in my mind that I haven’t
totally lost my edge for when I go back to school. Plus, I was just
astounded at the fact that he was still going that strong at his age -
carrying what appeared to be approx 70 pounds of gear, and doing fine.
The last time I carried that much weight I was soon sidelined for two
weeks... I think I’ve learned my lesson, but clearly here is an example
of someone who has experienced no ill consequences of the added load.
 | ||
| Two gorgeous lakes south of the PCT in the Trinity Alps |
The trail today was nice and smooth for a change, so I didn’t experience
nearly so many painful encounters with sharp rocks underfoot. Miles
drifted past, and I entered, and then exited the Trinity Alps
Wilderness. I have to say, for all the hype about this section, I was
somewhat unimpressed. We just touch a corner of this wilderness area,
and the coolest parts looked like they were about 10-15 miles away. I’d
love to get a chance to come back and check out the Trinity Alps during
another trip, but for now I just got a distant view of them. On the
other hand, the section I was walking through was amazing for the number
of scenic lakes I passed. First there would be one on the left, then
the right, then the left, and the beautiful vistas just kept coming. I
remembered Sourdough saying that this was the best spot to camp, and I
now understood what he meant, but unfortunately I still had plenty of
miles to make this afternoon.
 |
| The trail and two PCT markers on a post |
I
started running into foot trouble again right around 21 miles for the
day, as I came near to Highway 3. This
was an old stage coach road that
had been abandoned for years after the railroad came through, only the
later be returned to use when they started building the highway system. I
stopped at the campground there for dinner, and though I was finished
with dinner in under 20 minutes, I delayed and delayed as I was
un-enthused about the idea of getting back on my feet. After a full hour
there, much of it spent lying down with my feet propped up in the air, I
finally roused myself for another forward push. The break had done
nothing to remedy my foot situation, and the raw spot on my right foot
was persistently reminding me that I’d been mistreating it and should
give it time to heal. Sadly, I had no time for that luxury, as my train
and plane were already booked. From the highway I had 60 miles to go,
and I was giving myself only two more days to do it. If I could put in another few tonight, it would be doable, but definitely unpleasant. And
if my feet didn’t fix themselves, it would be darn nearly impossible.
With that motivation I decided to do some night-hiking. The miles are
the most important thing right now, and I’m running short on hours to do
them.
I’ve tried a number of tricks in the past to extend my hiking hours without losing the ability to walk quickly. One strategy was to continue wearing sunglasses past dusk so that my eyes adjust more rapidly to the dark conditions, and when I tried that I could usually go an extra 30 minutes before needing a light. Tonight I decided I would be going well into dark anyway, so I did away with the gimmicks and went straight to the headlamp. Yesterday moonlight had been around 10:30, so I would have probably about 2 hours of solid darkness where that headlamp would be critical.
 |
| One of the curious deer just down the hill from me |
Around
dusk I spotted two deer on the trail, and it was only moments before
they saw me and took off down
the hill. To my surprise as I came closer
though, they had only gone a few dozen feet and then waited to see me
pass. It was the perfect opportunity for a great photo, and I was amazed
how well my camera did in the low light conditions. Unfortunately
though, it has just started having its first problem of the trip. The
zoom slider is sticking and makes it much harder to frame photos just
how you want. I figure when I get home I can pop it open and clean out
whatever got into that mechanism. I’m just amazed how well it has held
up all trip, especially considering the dirty dusty conditions I’ve come
through.
As night fell I flicked on my light and continued my southbound journey. By necessity when hiking by headlamp you have to slow down as you don’t have much ability to look ahead to see what you may have to avoid. Plus, objects on the ground don’t stand out nearly so well, so each step must be taken more carefully. Twice I looked up and saw the glow of eyes on the trail. Its an eerie feeling to know that some other creature is out there, but all you can see is a pair of eyes. Every time I hoped and prayed it was a deer, and banging together my poles confirmed my suspicion in both cases when the animal bounded off into the brush. Phew, I don’t ever want another experience like waking up to that bear nearby last week. I made about 5 miles by 10:30 as the full moon started to come up. Rather than helping, it was actually making things more difficult for me. There was moderate tree cover along the trail, so only slivers of light would shine through, dazzling me and washing out the rest of the landscape. I decided that it was getting to be late enough, and I didn’t want to have a late start tomorrow, so I found a nice shaded (from the moon) spot and laid out my gear. All I cared about was giving my body a chance to fix my feet. Like I mentioned before, if I had control of these minute responses within my body, this would’ve been resolved a long time ago. As it stands though, I just have to hope that this expanding raw spot on the bottom of my foot finally toughens up as there are 55 miles to go, and just 48 hours to hike them.
Miles Today: 26
Trip Mileage: 1299
PCT Mile Marker: 1561
As night fell I flicked on my light and continued my southbound journey. By necessity when hiking by headlamp you have to slow down as you don’t have much ability to look ahead to see what you may have to avoid. Plus, objects on the ground don’t stand out nearly so well, so each step must be taken more carefully. Twice I looked up and saw the glow of eyes on the trail. Its an eerie feeling to know that some other creature is out there, but all you can see is a pair of eyes. Every time I hoped and prayed it was a deer, and banging together my poles confirmed my suspicion in both cases when the animal bounded off into the brush. Phew, I don’t ever want another experience like waking up to that bear nearby last week. I made about 5 miles by 10:30 as the full moon started to come up. Rather than helping, it was actually making things more difficult for me. There was moderate tree cover along the trail, so only slivers of light would shine through, dazzling me and washing out the rest of the landscape. I decided that it was getting to be late enough, and I didn’t want to have a late start tomorrow, so I found a nice shaded (from the moon) spot and laid out my gear. All I cared about was giving my body a chance to fix my feet. Like I mentioned before, if I had control of these minute responses within my body, this would’ve been resolved a long time ago. As it stands though, I just have to hope that this expanding raw spot on the bottom of my foot finally toughens up as there are 55 miles to go, and just 48 hours to hike them.
Miles Today: 26
Trip Mileage: 1299
PCT Mile Marker: 1561
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Day 89 (8/14) The Final Push
Today is Sunday. My last day of hiking will be Wednesday. Its surreal, and I’m really not sure if I’m ready for this hike to end. It hadn’t really set in until now, when I’m on the final leg of this summer journey. I lay in my sleeping bag reflecting on everything I’ve experienced, drifting back to sleep for a short while before finally getting up and moving. I was super excited about my food today since I had packed some treats coming out of town. Breakfast was nothing special, but after that I had some great snacks. Three apples, a big pack of pepperoni and a block of cheese to keep me energized throughout the day.
I didn’t make it far this morning before I was in for a surprise. I came around a curve and right in front of me was a massive snow drift, obliterating the trail and extending for hundreds of feet.
I didn’t make it far this morning before I was in for a surprise. I came around a curve and right in front of me was a massive snow drift, obliterating the trail and extending for hundreds of feet.
 |
| I'm STILL finding snow in mid-August! |
And as I surveyed it to find my best way across, here comes a northbound hiker, Happy Whale, working his way up to Etna for a nice day off. I on the other hand had a full day ahead, so I didn’t spend too much time chatting. Its currently August 14th in CALIFORNIA, and I’m still coming across snow. What a crazy year. After making my way across, I tried to pick up the pace and start making some miles. My feet held up pretty well through the first 5 miles when I took a break for an apple. What a fantastic thing to bring out for the first day from town. I’m glad I did this on the final section, otherwise I might’ve tried carrying out perishable treats like this every time I left town, and I didn’t need the extra weight. One big highlight of the morning was a closer view of Mt. Shasta. I first saw this mountain from a lookout at the Crater Lake rim, and now after two weeks of hiking I’m due west of it. For the next few days I’ll be curving back east, coming to finish just south of it in Castle Crags state park. This is one of the curious sections that goes every direction as it weaves around mountains and valleys, so that while I’ll hike 100 miles on trail, it would take only 60 miles by road, and 40 miles as the crow flies.
 |
| I'm closing in on Mt. Shasta, my final destination this summer |
The weather today was absolutely perfect, though it was another slightly nerve-wracking one. There was a ton of cloud cover which gave me a reprieve from the heat and cut down my need for water since I wasn’t sweating nearly so much. I did sweat the fact that there were some massive clouds overhead, and some of them were in fact grey and menacing looking. But, to my great relief, none ever took the next step of dropping rain or shooting lightning. The most curious thing was that all of these clouds from the north to the south all came together around Mt. Shasta, and I would surmise that it plays a major factor in the local weather. No thunder or lightning came from the clouds over there either, so I guess conditions aren’t quite ripe for a storm just yet. Hopefully it stays that way through Wednesday, after which I don’t really care what happens.
 |
| Russian Wilderness Sign w/ Hammer & Sickle |
My hike today brought me through the Russian Wilderness, one of the original wilderness areas set aside by Congress when they created the national park system. I really enjoy how stark and rugged it is, as opposed to some of the gentler more rolling hills I saw around the Ashland area. I did get a good laugh at the wilderness boundary sign where a hiker had made a hammer and sickle out of rocks next to the trail. We only spend a dozen miles in the wilderness itself, but this whole area is really cool. Coming from the Marble Mountains before Etna, to this, and then I’ve heard the Trinity Alps are another great spot just ahead.
Throughout the day I came to realize that my feet, having recovered somewhat, were not yet ready for a big push. My heels have mostly repaired themselves, but the ball of my right foot is still very tender and hasn’t yet formed the protective layer I need. I’m always amazed by how well we can control technology and everything else, but for our own bodies, so many things happen automatically and are beyond our control. I can’t just command my body to build up leg muscles, or lose weight, so instead we’ve learned how to indirectly cause those things to happen by learning which actions produce the desired results. If we want to build muscle, we exercise those muscles and our body reacts by building muscle. If we want to lose weight, we have to change our lifestyle to burn more calories than we consume. But those are very crude ways of achieving the actual goal. The brain controls all body function, and yet the conscious part isn’t able to communicate with the unconscious part to achieve the desired result. In my case right now, all I wish is that I could somehow convince my body to put callouses over the raw spot on my foot immediately, rather than waiting a few days or weeks until it gets around to it. In fact, I wish I could’ve told my body to do that days ago before this turned into a big problem for me. Funny how it doesn’t quite work that way. (*Fittingly, just before I was to post this I saw a comic strip that highlights this very point. http://www.smbc-comics.com/index.php?db=comics&id=2356#comic)
As it was, my feet kept my pace down all afternoon, and by the early evening it was clear that I wouldn’t be hitting my 25 mile goal for the day. If things shaped up, I could probably do 30 tomorrow to get myself back on track. If not, I would hit that road sometime tomorrow and could call it quits from there. I really don’t want to do that, but I’m even less excited about the idea of missing my train & plane, paying fees to rebook those travel plans, and getting home a day or two later. This last section is shaping up to be a little more of a physical challenge rather than a nice easy coast to the finish, but at the same time its fun to push myself, and I look forward to my day tomorrow to see if I can push myself and make up some miles from today.
Throughout the day I came to realize that my feet, having recovered somewhat, were not yet ready for a big push. My heels have mostly repaired themselves, but the ball of my right foot is still very tender and hasn’t yet formed the protective layer I need. I’m always amazed by how well we can control technology and everything else, but for our own bodies, so many things happen automatically and are beyond our control. I can’t just command my body to build up leg muscles, or lose weight, so instead we’ve learned how to indirectly cause those things to happen by learning which actions produce the desired results. If we want to build muscle, we exercise those muscles and our body reacts by building muscle. If we want to lose weight, we have to change our lifestyle to burn more calories than we consume. But those are very crude ways of achieving the actual goal. The brain controls all body function, and yet the conscious part isn’t able to communicate with the unconscious part to achieve the desired result. In my case right now, all I wish is that I could somehow convince my body to put callouses over the raw spot on my foot immediately, rather than waiting a few days or weeks until it gets around to it. In fact, I wish I could’ve told my body to do that days ago before this turned into a big problem for me. Funny how it doesn’t quite work that way. (*Fittingly, just before I was to post this I saw a comic strip that highlights this very point. http://www.smbc-comics.com/index.php?db=comics&id=2356#comic)
As it was, my feet kept my pace down all afternoon, and by the early evening it was clear that I wouldn’t be hitting my 25 mile goal for the day. If things shaped up, I could probably do 30 tomorrow to get myself back on track. If not, I would hit that road sometime tomorrow and could call it quits from there. I really don’t want to do that, but I’m even less excited about the idea of missing my train & plane, paying fees to rebook those travel plans, and getting home a day or two later. This last section is shaping up to be a little more of a physical challenge rather than a nice easy coast to the finish, but at the same time its fun to push myself, and I look forward to my day tomorrow to see if I can push myself and make up some miles from today.
 |
| Forested Valley in the Russian Wilderness |
Miles Today: 19
Trip Mileage: 1273
PCT Mile Marker: 1587
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Day 88 (8/13) Making it Work
I had only two goals for today: letting my feet recover, and making up for missing the post office yesterday. So I started out with a shower then used one of the loaner bikes here to go over to a nice diner for breakfast with Goodness and Zm. Like in every town the goal was to make up for my caloric deficit on trail, so I pretty much ate for two. I think the strangest part was having endless coffee, since I haven’t had any for probably about a month. After breakfast we had spotted a bakery, but unfortunately they were redoing the interior this weekend so they were closed. You can imagine how crushing that was... To lift my spirits I made my way over to the old fashioned soda fountain where I enjoyed a nice cold malt. It was neat to see how they made another couple’s root beer floats - they have the pop syrup and then manually add the right amount of carbonated soda water. Definitely something I didn’t expect to see when I came out here.
After taking care of my immediate need for food, I had to figure out what to do about my food for the last leg of the trip. From Etna I’ll be hiking to Castella, exactly 100 miles away. That’s going to take just about 4 days, and then I’ll be on my way home. I had maybe a day worth of stuff leftover from the last leg, which leaves me about 3 days short. The post office here doesn’t have Saturday hours, so if I wanted my box I’d have to wait until Monday. That just wasn’t going to work, because that means I don’t get home to Chicago until Saturday, and school starts on Monday. No dice. Actually, around noon I found out I was wrong, and for PCT hikers if you knock on the back door between 9 and 10am on Saturday they are there sorting mail and will let you pick up your package. Unfortunately, I didn’t find out until noon, at which point that opportunity was long gone. I just had to laugh at my unlucky streak with this particular post office. Fortunately for me there is a Ray’s Food Place in Etna, and it was a decent sized grocery store with more than enough options for food. This would be the first time all trip I try to resupply on trail, so it was a little bit different.
First of all, since I have a full selection of whatever I want from here, I decided to mix things up a little bit. I picked up a half pound of cheese for the first day out of town, along with some pepperoni and summer sausage. Then I picked up three apples as a first day treat, before finally getting the standard fare of pasta and instant potatoes. I think there have only been 2 or 3 nights all trip (88 days - nights in town) that I haven’t eaten instant mashed potatoes on trail. And somehow I’m still not sick of them. Same thing goes for Snickers bars, and despite everyone’s warnings that I would come hate them as the trip progressed, I still enjoy that gooey caramel mess (they ALWAYS get crushed in my pack). Loaded up with $50 of food, I headed back to the hostel to finish the rest of my chores. My clothes hadn’t had a real wash since Crater Lake, so after two weeks, they were bad news. Fortunately there was a washer and dryer I could use for $3, so I piled them all in and went about planning my trip back to Chicago. I figure I can hike this section in four days, and then theres a midnight train from Dunsmuir (5 miles from the trail) to Sacramento, where I can catch a flight home the next day. Leaving tomorrow that puts me on the train Wednesday night and home on Thursday. Sounds like a good plan to me. I did realize though that I’d have to cut my hiking short on Wednesday if I wanted to hitch to Dunsmuir, and I’d lose some time tomorrow morning hitching up to the trailhead. Losing a few hours on both ends made it a little tighter, and I started to wonder if I shouldn’t just give myself another day. Then I realized I could get out there tonight, just hike up a mile and get a full day tomorrow. I decided to go with that plan because I really did want to get home as early as possible so I’d have a few days to re-acclimate to the world before being thrust back into grad school, research and classes.
I went ahead and booked the flight, then while trying to book the train I found out I needed to have my Amtrak ticket mailed to me. But I wasn’t going to have a way to pick it up... I called Amtrak and they said if I booked less then 3 days in advance I could get a boarding code and pay on the train. Okay, so now I had to call from the middle of the wilderness to book my seat on the train. Fantastic. I called home and arranged a backup plan with my Dad so that if he didn’t hear from me by Monday evening he’d book it for me. My only concern through all this was my feet. I struggled mightily yesterday with some blister issues, and it wasn’t clear that a single day had been enough to heal everything. I was still walking gingerly, and that wasn’t over rocks and uneven terrain, so in the back of my mind I had a slight concern. I looked at the map and spotted an early exit just 40 miles from here, so if I couldn’t make my miles I could bail and hitch to the train station from there. With that everything was settled and my mind was at ease, so I packed up my gear and went down to the local brewery for a quick dinner before heading out.
The Etna Brewery was FANTASTIC. There is no doubt in my mind that if I wasn’t concerned about my timing for the trip home, I would’ve hung out here all evening with the other hikers enjoying all of the great beers they make here. As it was I had to cut myself off at two, after savoring both their stout and a porter. What a wonderful last town stop, more than making up for the mess I made of my resupply at the post office. I made quick work of a burger and salad (once again two normal meals), then went back to the hostel where I called Keith for a ride to the trail. I apologized for the mixup last night (he came right away, waited for 20 minutes then left, and I got there about 40 minutes later...). We chatted on the ride up, and it turns out he’s a 85 year old guy who’s done just about everything imaginable. I think he said he’s held 62 jobs during his lifetime. Now he’s retired and living out here he enjoys meeting the hikers and helping them get to and from the trail. For the 20 mile round trip he only asked for $5, which was pretty amazing considering what a steep and winding road it was.
After taking care of my immediate need for food, I had to figure out what to do about my food for the last leg of the trip. From Etna I’ll be hiking to Castella, exactly 100 miles away. That’s going to take just about 4 days, and then I’ll be on my way home. I had maybe a day worth of stuff leftover from the last leg, which leaves me about 3 days short. The post office here doesn’t have Saturday hours, so if I wanted my box I’d have to wait until Monday. That just wasn’t going to work, because that means I don’t get home to Chicago until Saturday, and school starts on Monday. No dice. Actually, around noon I found out I was wrong, and for PCT hikers if you knock on the back door between 9 and 10am on Saturday they are there sorting mail and will let you pick up your package. Unfortunately, I didn’t find out until noon, at which point that opportunity was long gone. I just had to laugh at my unlucky streak with this particular post office. Fortunately for me there is a Ray’s Food Place in Etna, and it was a decent sized grocery store with more than enough options for food. This would be the first time all trip I try to resupply on trail, so it was a little bit different.
First of all, since I have a full selection of whatever I want from here, I decided to mix things up a little bit. I picked up a half pound of cheese for the first day out of town, along with some pepperoni and summer sausage. Then I picked up three apples as a first day treat, before finally getting the standard fare of pasta and instant potatoes. I think there have only been 2 or 3 nights all trip (88 days - nights in town) that I haven’t eaten instant mashed potatoes on trail. And somehow I’m still not sick of them. Same thing goes for Snickers bars, and despite everyone’s warnings that I would come hate them as the trip progressed, I still enjoy that gooey caramel mess (they ALWAYS get crushed in my pack). Loaded up with $50 of food, I headed back to the hostel to finish the rest of my chores. My clothes hadn’t had a real wash since Crater Lake, so after two weeks, they were bad news. Fortunately there was a washer and dryer I could use for $3, so I piled them all in and went about planning my trip back to Chicago. I figure I can hike this section in four days, and then theres a midnight train from Dunsmuir (5 miles from the trail) to Sacramento, where I can catch a flight home the next day. Leaving tomorrow that puts me on the train Wednesday night and home on Thursday. Sounds like a good plan to me. I did realize though that I’d have to cut my hiking short on Wednesday if I wanted to hitch to Dunsmuir, and I’d lose some time tomorrow morning hitching up to the trailhead. Losing a few hours on both ends made it a little tighter, and I started to wonder if I shouldn’t just give myself another day. Then I realized I could get out there tonight, just hike up a mile and get a full day tomorrow. I decided to go with that plan because I really did want to get home as early as possible so I’d have a few days to re-acclimate to the world before being thrust back into grad school, research and classes.
I went ahead and booked the flight, then while trying to book the train I found out I needed to have my Amtrak ticket mailed to me. But I wasn’t going to have a way to pick it up... I called Amtrak and they said if I booked less then 3 days in advance I could get a boarding code and pay on the train. Okay, so now I had to call from the middle of the wilderness to book my seat on the train. Fantastic. I called home and arranged a backup plan with my Dad so that if he didn’t hear from me by Monday evening he’d book it for me. My only concern through all this was my feet. I struggled mightily yesterday with some blister issues, and it wasn’t clear that a single day had been enough to heal everything. I was still walking gingerly, and that wasn’t over rocks and uneven terrain, so in the back of my mind I had a slight concern. I looked at the map and spotted an early exit just 40 miles from here, so if I couldn’t make my miles I could bail and hitch to the train station from there. With that everything was settled and my mind was at ease, so I packed up my gear and went down to the local brewery for a quick dinner before heading out.
The Etna Brewery was FANTASTIC. There is no doubt in my mind that if I wasn’t concerned about my timing for the trip home, I would’ve hung out here all evening with the other hikers enjoying all of the great beers they make here. As it was I had to cut myself off at two, after savoring both their stout and a porter. What a wonderful last town stop, more than making up for the mess I made of my resupply at the post office. I made quick work of a burger and salad (once again two normal meals), then went back to the hostel where I called Keith for a ride to the trail. I apologized for the mixup last night (he came right away, waited for 20 minutes then left, and I got there about 40 minutes later...). We chatted on the ride up, and it turns out he’s a 85 year old guy who’s done just about everything imaginable. I think he said he’s held 62 jobs during his lifetime. Now he’s retired and living out here he enjoys meeting the hikers and helping them get to and from the trail. For the 20 mile round trip he only asked for $5, which was pretty amazing considering what a steep and winding road it was.
 |
| Sunset from the trailhead right after being dropped off |
We arrived at the top around 8:15, and there was another hiker waiting for a ride, so it worked out perfectly for all. I can definitely tell the days are getting shorter because I witnessed a fantastic sunset around 8:30 and shortly thereafter it was getting dark enough I started considering breaking out my headlamp. Instead I decided that I didn’t need to push too hard tonight and that my half mile was plenty. I’d be up bright and early tomorrow for a full day, and that was all that mattered.
Miles Today: ~0
Trip Mileage: 1254
PCT Mile Marker: 1606
Miles Today: ~0
Trip Mileage: 1254
PCT Mile Marker: 1606
Monday, August 22, 2011
Day 87 (8/12) The Postal Sprint
24 miles to walk by 5pm. Make that 4pm because I have a 10 mile hitch at the end of the 24 miles. Better make it 3pm just to be safe since it isn’t a heavily traveled road. If I was getting up at 3am that wouldn’t be too much to ask. But after a 26 mile day of hiking yesterday my body wasn’t going to settle for anything less than nine hours of sleep. Period. End of story. So my 7am departure was just about as early as I could hope for. That means I have 8 hours to walk 24 miles, just 3 mph. For the whole time, assuming no breaks. Not impossible, just improbable without some major willpower. I didn’t worry too much though, and got going right away. As I walked I set up checkpoints for myself to see if I was staying on track with the miles I needed. By 9am I was a mile behind. At 10 that had crept to a mile and a half. I was pushing myself as hard as I could, but unfortunately the terrain was pretty rocky, and the faster I walk the more often I have rocks jab me in the feet when I can’t find the perfect spot to step down. By 11am I was in trouble. I’d held things together and was still only a mile and a half behind my 3pm arrival, but my right foot was excruciatingly painful. Between the time off and the constant wet shoes in the Sierras all of my hard-earned callouses had been worn away. One spot in particular was giving me trouble and I was unable to properly walk on it without pain. Just between the ball of my foot and the second toe at the very front of my foot it had first blistered two days ago, then that had broken and the skin torn away. Now there was just raw flesh, and it was not getting along well with the ground. AT ALL. I was forced to change my gait to shift weight to the outside of the foot on the rocky sections if I wanted to keep hiking at this speed.
By 1pm I knew this wasn’t sustainable. I was hoping to push myself and get through the rocky parts onto smooth tread, but I had no such luck. Though I was trying to will myself through without breaks, the constant battle with my foot had taken a serious toll on my mental state. In frustration I shrugged out of my pack and sank down against a log, a full 9 miles from the destination. After a few minutes of glorious bliss off my feet I began to reassess my situation. Clearly, I was in no shape to continue this death march, and I would have to accept that I would miss the post office’s 5pm closing. Rather than being a depressing thought, it was actually a huge relief. I have no idea what kind of scenery I passed this morning because I’d literally put my head down and walked as fast and hard as I could. It really wasn’t why I was out here, and in no way did I find it enjoyable, especially with the addition of the foot pain. The ONLY part that stands out was a section where I walked past four waterfalls in a row alongside the trail and was able to reach over and fill up my bottles with icy refreshing water without ever leaving the trail. Everything else blurred together as a mix of pain and perspiration. Once I decided to let the deadline go, the burden was lifted from me and I was free to enjoy the experience again. After a good 30 minutes rest I resumed walking, albeit at a much slower pace. These last 9 miles weren’t necessarily any more pleasant walking on my foot, and it even gave me the motivation to write an ode to callouses in my head, which I repeated in my head in the vain hope that it would help heal my foot. During this part of the journey I was surprised to come across a hiker with his tent set up at the early hour of 3pm. I stopped to chat, and it turns out that he left Etna yesterday evening, started having stomach problems a few miles out and spent the entire day in the tent today recovering. I offered him some of my extra food and water, but he said he was all set, so I wished him the best and walked onward. I’m sure thankful I haven’t dealt with that yet on this trip, because despite how much foot problems hurt, its infinitely worse to try hiking when your insides are all scrambled.
My pace in this section was pretty awful, probably under 1.5 mph, and I started to wear thin on patience. Lifting my spirits was the constant stream of northbound hikers who had left Etna this morning. From the numbers that I met, I would reckon there had been 25-30 hikers in town two days ago, and they had slowly made their way back to the trail and run into this lone southbounder. It was fun giving them all reports about the people ahead of them that they were trying to catch, and I loved seeing their reactions to how many or few miles so-and-so had done already. Finally I came around a turn that indicated I had 4 miles to go. I’d been warned there was no cell service at the trailhead, and additionally I was given a number for a local who gives rides back to town if you call. That was perfect since I would be arriving later than usual and I couldn’t count on people driving past at that hour. With about 2.5 miles to the trailhead I found a good overlook with service and called Keith for a ride. I said I’d be at the road in an hour and I’d be glad to pay him for a ride down the hill. I turned my phone back off then resumed this final leg of the hike. I walked out to the road at exactly 7:20 after one of the most trying days of the trip (aside from the fracture), hoping to see a car waiting for me. Well, there were three forest service trucks there, but no Keith. I waited a good 20 minutes without any activity before a packed car passed me going towards town. No luck hitching. Then a car came from town and stopped. I figured this was Keith so I picked up my pack as the car rolled to a stop. But no, it was a couple asking for directions, and I was the last person with any clue about the roads around here. “I’ve just spent 3 months in the woods, sorry I don’t know how to get to that lake, in fact I’ve never heard of it.” Next a forest service helicopter touched down to refuel and took off again. I hoped they would drop off the people who belonged to these trucks, but no luck. It had now been most of an hour and I was running out of hope. I would have no problem camping here at the road, except for one problem. Water. I’d planned on my next drink coming in town, and the nearest on-trail water was a good 3 miles away in either direction. The half liter in my pack could keep me hydrated, but forget cooking dinner... Great.
I climbed up a nearby hill hoping for a cell signal, to no avail, and my frustration level began to rise again. Had I walked all that way today, enduring serious pain for no reason? Should I have just taken a mulligan on the day, walked a dozen miles and called it a healing day to let my foot recover? As I was sinking into a black hole of this second-guessing I heard a diesel rumble coming the right way. I jumped up and stuck out my thumb while striking a winning smile. It worked, and the truck pulled over! I was offered a prime seat in the back among a bunch of tools and coolers, and the man confirmed my earlier concern, that he figured he was likely the last one to drive this road til the morning and that I was lucky he’d been coming the right way. I agreed, and happily tossed my pack in, and jumped in right after it. We roared down the hill, and now I understood why it was not more heavily travelled. It was a narrow winding road going waaay down the mountain into the desert where the town was located. Though it was only 10 miles, I think it took nearly half an hour to drive that distance, and I was dropped at the grocery store in town. I thanked the driver profusely, then walked over and met a few hikers stocking up on food. They gave me directions to the hostel, and I set off on my way. It was a good mile walk over there, and for $25 I was able to get a bed and shower. Perfect. There were about 6 hikers there, the tail end of the massive group from two days prior. The priority for the night was a shower, which felt fantastic, though I’m not sure it was enough to remove over a week of trail grime. I’ll have to shower again in the morning. The evening’s entertainment was the TV and VHS player, and we watched Transylvania 6-5000 (from 1986), which was absolutely hilarious. Plus, it had a great cast of future stars like Jeff Goldblum and Ed Begley Jr, plus once character who looked just like the character who plays Lupin in Harry Potter (IMDB shocked us when we found out that they are different people). It was a great way to decompress after a long and stressful day, and I slept soundly on my pull-out sofa sleeper.
I swear, if I write a book about this whole summer experience it'd be something along the lines of "No Adventure Goes According to the Plan". What a day.
Miles Today: 24 (+1)
Trip Mileage: 1254
PCT Mile Marker: 1606
By 1pm I knew this wasn’t sustainable. I was hoping to push myself and get through the rocky parts onto smooth tread, but I had no such luck. Though I was trying to will myself through without breaks, the constant battle with my foot had taken a serious toll on my mental state. In frustration I shrugged out of my pack and sank down against a log, a full 9 miles from the destination. After a few minutes of glorious bliss off my feet I began to reassess my situation. Clearly, I was in no shape to continue this death march, and I would have to accept that I would miss the post office’s 5pm closing. Rather than being a depressing thought, it was actually a huge relief. I have no idea what kind of scenery I passed this morning because I’d literally put my head down and walked as fast and hard as I could. It really wasn’t why I was out here, and in no way did I find it enjoyable, especially with the addition of the foot pain. The ONLY part that stands out was a section where I walked past four waterfalls in a row alongside the trail and was able to reach over and fill up my bottles with icy refreshing water without ever leaving the trail. Everything else blurred together as a mix of pain and perspiration. Once I decided to let the deadline go, the burden was lifted from me and I was free to enjoy the experience again. After a good 30 minutes rest I resumed walking, albeit at a much slower pace. These last 9 miles weren’t necessarily any more pleasant walking on my foot, and it even gave me the motivation to write an ode to callouses in my head, which I repeated in my head in the vain hope that it would help heal my foot. During this part of the journey I was surprised to come across a hiker with his tent set up at the early hour of 3pm. I stopped to chat, and it turns out that he left Etna yesterday evening, started having stomach problems a few miles out and spent the entire day in the tent today recovering. I offered him some of my extra food and water, but he said he was all set, so I wished him the best and walked onward. I’m sure thankful I haven’t dealt with that yet on this trip, because despite how much foot problems hurt, its infinitely worse to try hiking when your insides are all scrambled.
 |
| Mt. Shasta off in the distance Way closer than the first time I saw it from Crater Lake |
I climbed up a nearby hill hoping for a cell signal, to no avail, and my frustration level began to rise again. Had I walked all that way today, enduring serious pain for no reason? Should I have just taken a mulligan on the day, walked a dozen miles and called it a healing day to let my foot recover? As I was sinking into a black hole of this second-guessing I heard a diesel rumble coming the right way. I jumped up and stuck out my thumb while striking a winning smile. It worked, and the truck pulled over! I was offered a prime seat in the back among a bunch of tools and coolers, and the man confirmed my earlier concern, that he figured he was likely the last one to drive this road til the morning and that I was lucky he’d been coming the right way. I agreed, and happily tossed my pack in, and jumped in right after it. We roared down the hill, and now I understood why it was not more heavily travelled. It was a narrow winding road going waaay down the mountain into the desert where the town was located. Though it was only 10 miles, I think it took nearly half an hour to drive that distance, and I was dropped at the grocery store in town. I thanked the driver profusely, then walked over and met a few hikers stocking up on food. They gave me directions to the hostel, and I set off on my way. It was a good mile walk over there, and for $25 I was able to get a bed and shower. Perfect. There were about 6 hikers there, the tail end of the massive group from two days prior. The priority for the night was a shower, which felt fantastic, though I’m not sure it was enough to remove over a week of trail grime. I’ll have to shower again in the morning. The evening’s entertainment was the TV and VHS player, and we watched Transylvania 6-5000 (from 1986), which was absolutely hilarious. Plus, it had a great cast of future stars like Jeff Goldblum and Ed Begley Jr, plus once character who looked just like the character who plays Lupin in Harry Potter (IMDB shocked us when we found out that they are different people). It was a great way to decompress after a long and stressful day, and I slept soundly on my pull-out sofa sleeper.
I swear, if I write a book about this whole summer experience it'd be something along the lines of "No Adventure Goes According to the Plan". What a day.
Miles Today: 24 (+1)
Trip Mileage: 1254
PCT Mile Marker: 1606
 |
| Trinity Alps - I'll come back there some other time for sure. Anyone else interested? |
Day 86 (8/11) Going the Extra Mile(s)
After the town-stop shortened day I had a few miles to make up today. Plus, as I mentioned yesterday, the menu for today was a massive climb of 6,000 feet over the next 20 miles. This meant I’d be slowly working my way uphill all day without any super steep sections. The day started out with a climb up the Grider Creek valley, crossing the creek four separate times as the trail weaved around solid rock bluffs on each side of the creek. This was highly reminiscent of the hiking I did with David in the Ozarks last year over Thanksgiving, with the only difference being the altitude out here, and the scale of the climb. Cresting a ridge I had a short reprieve before I starting switchbacking up another adjacent ridge. About 8 miles in I took a short lunch break, then pushed on higher and higher. I didn’t want a long break as anything more than 20 minutes would give my legs too much time to cramp up and I didn’t need that today. Near the top of this ridge I came across a trail crew working on putting up new trailhead signs with maps of the area on them. And right after that I entered the Marble Mountain Wilderness.
This was one of the three areas I’d been told about by northbound hikers. They all raved about either the Marble Mountains, the Russian Wilderness, or the Trinity Alps. Well, as the first of the three, I relished the opportunity to see what all they were talking about. At first this seemed to be no different than any other part of the trail, but slowly I came to see what they were talking about. There were a bunch of marble pieces littering the trail and I was tempted to take one as a souvenir (I didn’t because that is against Leave No Trace; plus its extra weight!). A few miles in I ran into an interesting problem. I was looking for a small unsigned spring, and the directions I have are for a northbound hiker. Therefore, any landmarks described would necessarily be PAST the spring I’m looking for. My solution was to walk a ways, then look back to see if anything matched what I should be seeing as a northbounder. This went on for a frustrating mile as I looked for the “large 3-forked tree” which should be just off trail before the turnoff to the spring in a large meadow. I became frustrated, and wondering if I may have passed it, considered my options for other water sources - none were good choices and would require that I ration heavily on the way. Walking along in this contemplative state I suddenly came to a new wooden sign pointing straight to the spring! Turns out the guidebook wasn’t quite up to date on this improvement. I got water then came back to the trail, where I looked up and saw the MASSIVE 3-forked tree. Had I understood exactly how big this tree was, I would’ve been absolutely sure I hadn’t missed the spring. Each of the three forks was the size of a normal tree. Pretty awesome, especially with the campsite right underneath. I stopped there to treat my water, and chatted with a local hiker who had already made camp there. He was recovering from back and knee problems and this was his first trip back out on trail. Good to see him out, and we had a nice chat about all kinds of things. Though I enjoyed his company, it was far too early to stop, and after my requisite 20 minutes to purify the water, I drank my fill then headed off again. Many, many miles were still ahead of me.
Coming out of this break I had a fantastic vista of the trail winding around the side of a ridge with the large Marble Mountain standing across the valley. I took it all in with a huge grin, then was off again. Over the next two hours I started running into all the folks who had left Etna yesterday morning. This was not good news for me. The Etna Post Office doesn’t have Saturday hours, so I need to be there by Friday at 5pm to get the box with all my food. All these people have spent 1.5 days hiking to get this far out, and I have just about a day to do that section in reverse... I decided that merited a strong push into the evening to make a few more miles. My stomach though was unwilling to go along with that plan without first being fed a full meal. I usually prefer to eat around 6 or 7, then get a couple miles of hiking done afterwards, but that does mean valuable daylight hours are spent on dinner. Today I would’ve liked to walk until dusk then made camp and eaten, but it just wasn’t going to happen as hungry as I was.
Following dinner I ran into more of the hikers who departed Etna yesterday, so it seems like I’m coming across another big cluster of people. They report that a whole bunch of people are behind them yet. Around 8pm I found one of the most beautiful spots of the whole trip; a field of white wildflowers with a scattering of blue/purple flowers, accented by a few red ones. What a great sight, and I literally walked straight through this field as I followed the trail. And just minutes later I had a good laugh as I had the opportunity to yell out “It’s August 11th in California, and I’m still walking on snow!!!”. Granted, this was only 100 yards of trail covered by snow, but nonetheless I was amazed that it had managed to stick around for so long. That’s just a testament to the amount of snow they got this year, and why its been such a struggle for thru-hikers to stay on track and finish on time this year. At the 26 mile mark (another marathon, yay!) for the day I called it quits, leaving a full 24 mile day ahead of me tomorrow to reach Etna.
Miles Today: 26
Trip Mileage: 1229
PCT Mile Marker: 1630
This was one of the three areas I’d been told about by northbound hikers. They all raved about either the Marble Mountains, the Russian Wilderness, or the Trinity Alps. Well, as the first of the three, I relished the opportunity to see what all they were talking about. At first this seemed to be no different than any other part of the trail, but slowly I came to see what they were talking about. There were a bunch of marble pieces littering the trail and I was tempted to take one as a souvenir (I didn’t because that is against Leave No Trace; plus its extra weight!). A few miles in I ran into an interesting problem. I was looking for a small unsigned spring, and the directions I have are for a northbound hiker. Therefore, any landmarks described would necessarily be PAST the spring I’m looking for. My solution was to walk a ways, then look back to see if anything matched what I should be seeing as a northbounder. This went on for a frustrating mile as I looked for the “large 3-forked tree” which should be just off trail before the turnoff to the spring in a large meadow. I became frustrated, and wondering if I may have passed it, considered my options for other water sources - none were good choices and would require that I ration heavily on the way. Walking along in this contemplative state I suddenly came to a new wooden sign pointing straight to the spring! Turns out the guidebook wasn’t quite up to date on this improvement. I got water then came back to the trail, where I looked up and saw the MASSIVE 3-forked tree. Had I understood exactly how big this tree was, I would’ve been absolutely sure I hadn’t missed the spring. Each of the three forks was the size of a normal tree. Pretty awesome, especially with the campsite right underneath. I stopped there to treat my water, and chatted with a local hiker who had already made camp there. He was recovering from back and knee problems and this was his first trip back out on trail. Good to see him out, and we had a nice chat about all kinds of things. Though I enjoyed his company, it was far too early to stop, and after my requisite 20 minutes to purify the water, I drank my fill then headed off again. Many, many miles were still ahead of me.
Coming out of this break I had a fantastic vista of the trail winding around the side of a ridge with the large Marble Mountain standing across the valley. I took it all in with a huge grin, then was off again. Over the next two hours I started running into all the folks who had left Etna yesterday morning. This was not good news for me. The Etna Post Office doesn’t have Saturday hours, so I need to be there by Friday at 5pm to get the box with all my food. All these people have spent 1.5 days hiking to get this far out, and I have just about a day to do that section in reverse... I decided that merited a strong push into the evening to make a few more miles. My stomach though was unwilling to go along with that plan without first being fed a full meal. I usually prefer to eat around 6 or 7, then get a couple miles of hiking done afterwards, but that does mean valuable daylight hours are spent on dinner. Today I would’ve liked to walk until dusk then made camp and eaten, but it just wasn’t going to happen as hungry as I was.
 |
| Wildflowers! |
Miles Today: 26
Trip Mileage: 1229
PCT Mile Marker: 1630
 |
| Moon over Black Marble Mountain |
Day 85 (8/10) Racing for Lunch
When I went to bed I figured I had about 12 miles to town this morning. When I woke up I looked at the maps again and realized that town was actually further than I had thought, and that it would actually be 15 miles to get my resupply parcel and lunch at the diner. It was a slow morning, partially because of the location of my camp. Usually sunrise around 6am starts the process of waking me up, but I slept on the westward face of a hill, so the sun wouldn’t be shining directly on my sleeping bag for hours and hours. Left to my own devices to rouse myself, it was nearly 8am when I took off for Seiad Valley. Early on I ran into a few folks who mentioned how steep the descent would be for me. Of course, the PCT is still a well graded trail designed for hikers as well as equestrians. That means steep is anything between 500-600 ft of elevation gain per mile, and you usually don’t find anything beyond that. By the same penchant anything less than 200 feet per mile feels essentially flat (and thats pretty rare out here most of the time). I personally prefer gentle descents and steep climbs because I can’t hold a good pace on a steep descent while maintaining balance and control. On the uphill its easy enough to power through it, and it seems less exhausting when you can get the climb done in a hour or two rather than stretching it over most of a day.
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| Seiad Valley and the Klamath River |
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| State of Jefferson Post Office |
Fortunately for me, that had no impact on the quality of the food at the diner. I got in around 1:30, got my resupply box and was surprised to find a letter from my Grandmother in the box from home, and it was really cool to ready that. Plus, she gave me money for a treat, which was immediately converted into a burger and malt at the cafe. Thanks Grandma! Absolutely fantastic, and a welcome refreshing treat on a super hot afternoon. After lunch I started sorting through my food for the next three day section, and I got to meet a minor trail celebrity. Balls and Sunshine are a father/daughter hiking pair that has made it all the way so far. The neat thing is that Sunshine is only 12! She worked out a deal with her school to let her work ahead to get done in time to start hiking this year. Next year she plans to do the Appalachian Trail, and the Continental Divide Trail the following year, which would make her the youngest person to do all three of the US long distance hiking trails, the triple crown of long distance hiking. She’s about 4 months too old to set the age record on the PCT, but man, I was sure impressed by not only her maturity by her dedication to this challenge. At that age I can’t imagine committing to a four month trip like this. It was awesome to actually meet them after hearing a few stories along the way about the youngest member of the PCT Class of ‘11.
I was extremely unmotivated to get back out on the trail after lunch. The heat wasn’t helping anything, and I slowly worked through my food resupply, then took on a very necessary task. The dirt and grit in this section had been some of the worst and was seriously abrading my feet through my socks. So I took on the task of washing my socks so that they at least had the illusion of being clean. It took about 30 minutes of scrubbing to get the three pairs to a point where they were acceptably clean. Once they had air-dried (amazingly fast) I slipped them back on and forced myself back onto the trail. Rather, the road. The trail follows a 6 mile section of road through this town because it has to use a bridge over this wide river. Because of my 4 hour break, one of my shortest all trip, I wasn’t looking at a full 20+ mile day of hiking. I decided hiking out to the end of the road and to the campsite there would be a good plan. That worked out perfectly as the sun was setting just as I reached the camp, where three other hikers were already camped, ready to head into town tomorrow. I quickly made dinner then chatted with Kenneth for a bit before retiring to my sleeping bag. This low in the valley between mountains the sunset comes earlier and I was definitely out by 9:30 this evening.
Miles Today: 20
Trip Mileage: 1203
PCT Mile Marker: 1656
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