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.

Mt. Shasta off in the distance
Way closer than the first time I saw it from Crater Lake

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

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.

Wildflowers!

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

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.

Seiad Valley and the Klamath River

This particular descent was a monster. I would drop 4,500 feet over the course of eight miles. Ouch. I would much prefer to be a northbound hiker in this situation, one of the few times I’ve noticed a difference in the flavor of the trail for southbounders. Past Seiad Valley I’ll climb 6,000 feet, but this time over nearly 20 miles while descending only about 1,000 feet in that time. That’s a mile net gain that I have to look forward to after dropping into the valley. On the way down I ran into Sniper who had left from Seiad Valley early this morning. She was 6 miles in and I had only 6 miles to go, and we shared intel on the trail we would each encounter. She was particularly interested in water reports for the coming section, so I gladly let her know which springs were running well and which weren’t worth visiting. She gave me the tip that the cafe closed at 2:00, so as we parted ways I redoubled my pace in order to make it in time. Going down a steep descent is always a little unforgiving on the knees, but this time because I was moving faster I started having  pain in the front of my toes as they pushed into the front of my shoes and jammed my nails. I walked through it, but was slightly concerned about the possibility of damaging my toenails and giving myself worse problems in the future. The descent was pretty neat, and I got some great views of the valley ahead of me. The Klamath River is huge, and it turns out that it was a huge area for gold mining up until that was banned for environmental protection a few years back. There are still big piles of tailings on the side of the river from the dredging operations to pick up large amounts of rock and dirt then sort through it to find the gold. Now that people are banned from doing that, the area has slowly dwindled and the few local shops are struggling to survive without the influx of 49ers every year.

State of Jefferson Post Office

At 1:00 I hit the road at the bottom on the descent, and was given a warm welcome to the 51st state. Rather, make that a hot welcome. At 1,400 feet this is the lowest elevation in quite awhile, and the oppressive heat was plenty of evidence for that. Oh ya, back to the 51st state thing. For over 100 years there has been a movement to create the 51st state in this area out of counties from Northern California and Southern Oregon. The rationale is that these rural mountainous areas have been poorly represented at the state level and they would be better served as part of their own independent state. Back in the 40’s this came to head with a full vote for separation and the creation of a new state, but it fell by the wayside when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor and after the war things improved and the movement lost traction. The independent spirit of the State of Jefferson movement is definitely alive and well in the area though, and you see plenty of signs proclaiming the unofficial state name. The other signs in the area are the prominent “NO MONUMENT” signs. An environmental group has petitioned to make hundreds of thousands of acres of land in the Siskiyou Mountains a ‘National Monument’ to give them similar status as a National Park. The difference - a National Park needs congressional approval, a National Monument can be created by presidential signature. In a county that consists of over 60% federal land, it is understandable that there may be resistance to this plan. It doesn’t help that it isn’t clear what happens to private land and water rights if the National Monument is approved. I chatted with a few hikers and a few locals, and it was clear that this was another big mess that had been brewing for a few years without any clear resolution in sight.

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

Day 84 (8/9) Scariest Morning Ever

It is quite common for me to wake up in the middle of the night out here, so I usually don't think anything of it. That's how it was around 3:30am when I woke up to get a drink of water and relieve myself. I drifted back off to sleep, but came awake again shortly after 4am. I was on edge, so something external must've disturbed me - probably a cool breeze across my face I thought. Then I heard it and everything froze. Somewhere just north of me I heard the sound of wood being torn apart; maybe a big branch falling? Then it came again, Kra-Kraack-Krunch! My mind raced to figure out what it was. Not many things were that big out here, and it took me a few long moments before I settled on a bear rooting for bugs in a downed tree. I waited and it came again, louder this time, and maybe closer, but maybe I was just fully awake now. It was close, but I had no idea how close. It could be 30 ft, it could be 300, but either way, I was scared. That bear would be hungry, and I happened to have a good bit of food right here. I didn't want anything to do with this massive creature, and it probably wasn't afraid of me, or at the very least was unconcerned by my presence. In the dead silence of night its very rare indeed that a person could go unnoticed by one of the forests' many residents. Between their hearing and smell, I knew it must be aware of me. Determined to calm my racing heart, I whipped out my headlamp, and banged my trekking poles together a few times. I didn't see anything from my position on the ground, but the sounds stopped. After a pause the sound of wood being ripped or crushed came back, and despite fear gripping me I stood up, banged my poles, and took a look around. Nothing within sight, but in the depth of night my headlamp didn't penetrate all that far. I crashed my poles together and in response two huffs, then the noise of it moving away from me.

I wasn't satisfied that I would be safe with something like that so close and potentially interested in my food bag, and there was no way I would fall back asleep now. In true record time I packed my bag, tied my shoes and set off down the trail following the bobbing circle of light from my headlamp. This is a tough way to walk, as the soft white light paints everything in dulled colors and provides little depth perception - making it easier to stumble over a rock or unexpectedly step into a divot. Your pace slows so you don't outrun the circle of light ahead of you, giving yourself just enough time to process what is ahead before placing steps. For nearly an hour and a half I carried on like this  until I finally came to rest alongside the trail to get breakfast. I peacefully watched the sunrise as the adrenaline crash sent me into a mild stupor. As I sat there basking in the moment I was startled back to reality by a crashing noise uphill from me. Though I couldn't see it, it sounded like a boulder coming down the slope. There was a massive downed tree a few feet up, and I braced myself to dive out of the way if this boulder cleared the tree. Before it came to that though it suddenly changed course and the crashing sound followed a new route and then out to the trail. And with that there stood one deer and then a second, just staring at me. I couldn't help but laugh as my heart best through my chest for the second time this morning. Its always something new out here, and today was definitely a first for me.

I got going again shortly thereafter, but by 8:30 I felt exhausted. The early start and shortened sleep were taking a toll, and I wasn't going to fight myself. I laid down beside the trail, put my feet up on my pack, then drifted off for a perfect hour-long nap. Felling refreshed I pushed on inti the morning. Based on talking to Jamz yesterday I figured I would probably see Noah today, and wondered when I'd run into him. I kept working out where he would be given this or that starting time in the morning, but as the day wore on I still didn't see him. In fact, compared to yesterday I saw very few hikers. Funny how packs form out here clustering a dozen or more people into a couple miles, and then you get long stretches without anyone around. Near 5:00 I was closing in on 20 miles for the day, and heard the sounds of two hikers ahead. Purring through the trees I recognized Noah and called out a greeting. He was hiking with Honeybuzz, who had been with him for a couple hundred miles now. Its awesome that he find a good hiking partner with a comparable pace for so long.

We found a shaded spot along the trail and sat down to chat. It was really neat to catch up abs compare notes on some of the things we'd both seen. I got to hear about the section I missed north of Yosemite, and their endless struggle with snow. I gave Noah a hard time for blasting ahead into the Sierras when I arrived later the same day to Kennedy Meadows after such hard work to gain a day on him in the last 150 miles. It was fun to catch up, reflect and reminisce. I'm going into the last week of my adventure, but these guys still had just about 1000 miles to go. I'm just a little envious... It really does put into perspective how long this trail actually is. That's something I never could've comprehended before coming out here. Two and a half months in and Noah was just now finishing the state of California, and he's been no slouch about making miles or minimizing days off. Even the fastest trip on the PCT was 61 days, and that is still a crazy long time to spend out here. Its really something else. Finally after an hour and a half we got a photo and posted ways; we both still had miles to make today. For me I put in another two or three before dinner, but afterwards was too beat from the stress of the morning plus the lack of sleep that I decided to call it a night. I'm 12 miles out from Seiad Valley, so I'll be making it there in the early afternoon tomorrow for the restaurant and post office.

Miles Today: 22
Trip Mileage: 1183
PCT Mile Marker: 1676

Day 83 (8/8) Like a Walk in the Park

Ten days left. 210 miles to go. And what do I do but sleep in this morning! I think the problem is the final destination. When I was trying to reach Canada I had a strong motivation to get up early and walk fast because of how aggressive that goal was. Now, when I have to average only 21 miles a day I've become complacent, knowing it should be easily achieved. In comparison to my earlier goal, this should be a walk in the park. Well, that attitude is going to put me in a tough spot, especially if it keeps up for the rest of the trip. It was unbelievably disappointing to be injured and face the fact that I wouldn't achieve the 2,663 mile goal I had set for myself. After that, my end point was merely another town I should've passed en route to our northern border, and it doesn't have the same allure as a complete thru-hike did. The funny thing is that this last section is a good long hike in and of itself (340 miles), and is nothing to laugh at. Everyone says the Marble Mountains and the Trinity Alps are fantastic, so I am looking forward to those.

As I got going today I noticed a particularly worrisome weather pattern approaching. White clouds had been building all morning and now were coalescing into darker storm clouds. At home this would be a guarantee of rain, but with a pair if ridgelines between me and the storm, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I passed a couple local folks, and  they said not to worry about it. "You'll know when its gonna rain" wasn't all that reassuring, but I took it to mean that this would blow over without causing much trouble.

Around 11am I had the most pleasant surprise of the last few days. There on the side of the real was a cooler packed full of pop for hikers as a 'Welcome to Oregon'. I had a nice morning Mountain Dew, which gave me a massive sugar rush as ij haven't had pop for a few weeks if not longer... Today turned out to be the biggest day for meeting northbound hikers yet. Turbo cranked past early this morning, probably amped up from his soda at the cache. Then I proceeded to run into 5 hiking pairs, including Matt and The Escalator who I had met back at the Anderson's. Turns out they had also bailed through Kearsarge Pass for an injury; Matt dislocated a shoulder and needed to come off to recover. They jumped ahead to regain the pack and plan to do the Sierras once they hit Canada. Not a terrible plan since it gets you through Washington before the snow flies in October. Everyone else was new to me, though I recognized some names that I had been catching up to before I got hurt. Turns out Jamz had hiked in the Sierras with Noah, and he should only be a day or two behind. How cool would it be to side him again 1,000 miles after splitting around Wrightwood.

As the day progressed the threatening clouds looked less and less threatening until finally they broke up entirely. I guess everyone else was right after all. Around 3 I came to a section where the trail climbed while winding along the side of the mountain, and I could see it all the way to the top. I started grinning - this is one of the kinds of vistas I enjoy the most, looking out at the trail stretched before me, prickly and mentally prepared to tackle this next challenge. Shortly afterwards though I came to a less pleasant and much more unexpected challenge. A 12 ft high snow bank engulfed the trail, and I had to figure out a way across. Northbounders had it easy because they could just slide down, but I would be working against gravity. The slope looked to be 70-80°, do far steeper than I would like. Each end disappeared into the trees, leaving little hope of a good way around. Just like in the Sierras I told myself as I started kicking steps into the snow wall. 5 feet up I decided it was nothing like the Sierras which had been soft and mushy melting snow. This was a hard, consolidated drift in the shade, and kicking steps HURT. I longed for my ice axe which would've made short work of this. Instead I had two nearly useless trekking poles. They did come in handy as I neared the top though; I planted the handles (and my hands) as solidly into the top of the snow wall and pulled. My body rolled up onto the top and I let out a sigh of relief. Phew, that was dicey.

Shortly thereafter I got a real treat. I came across the "All Downhill Campsite," constructed by none other than Sourdough, Turtle and Magellan three days prior. They had talked about clearing this site when I saw them at Callahan's, so it was really cool to actually find it. Plus, it came with a full detailed map courtesy of Magellan (he is a map-maker in real life). It was too early to camp there, but I did take the opportunity to stop and cook dinner, smiling at the little jokes they had left. On the back of the map was queen that this site was built solely for the use of Pacific Coast Trail hikers, playing on the common mistake about the Crest Trail's name. Apparently Sourdough still hasn't been able to get his family to say it right. For me its been people like Kenny who are generally sharp but can't quite figure this one out...

From there it was all easy cruising, and I got a great sunset view on my way out of Oregon. It was like one of those paintings where each later of hills is a different hue - I counted 7 tonight. Continuing on I made it to the OR/CA border right after dusk and took a bunch of photos to commemorate the occasion. Its bittersweet since I didn't walk all of California to get here, but it is a big milestone nonetheless. Plus, this marks 300 miles without any problems resurfacing in my fractured ankle, so that's worth celebrating in and of itself. I walked about another mile by headlamp before finally giving in to fatigue and calling it a day. Finally out of mosquito territory, I happily slept out under the stars.

Miles Today: 22
Trip Mileage: 1161
PCT Mile Marker: 1698

Photo: All Downhill Campsite & map
Photo: Oregon / California border!

Day 82 (8/7) The Final Countdown

There are now just 11 days left in my trip - a sobering thought. I woke up rested and refreshed this morning, and the only sign of yesterday's endeavors was the pair of raw spots on my heels, easily remedied with tape for now. I guess the other less visible sign was my appetite. Breakfast featured unlimited pancakes, and I put away three stacks on top of the eggs, hash browns, bacon, and numerous cups of coffee. Turtle and Magellan were taking a few days off to visit with friends, and Sourdough had plans in Ashland; none of them would be hiking out today. Nice & Steady had taken off bright and early at 6:30, before breakfast! Mathias cruised out the door around 9 on his way to a 30+ day. He somehow manages to clock 5mph on the downhills, and I really wish I could see him hike to know what he dos special or if he resorts to jogging. That's one of the great benefits of ultra-light backpacking is that it allows you to be more nimble, and I know a number of people who employ a semi jog that would kill myt knees with the weight I'm carrying... For the record, ultra-light is considered less than 8 pounds of gear, where I have around 15. I do know where I could cut 3 pounds if I shell out some more $$... New down sleeping bag, down jacket and I'm knocking on the door of the single digits. That's just a matter of money I'm not willing to spend at the moment.

As Sourdough, Turtle, Magellan and I are breakfast we were treated to a curious display. There was a jay raiding the sugar packets from each table as the patrons left. The staff seemed overwhelmed again this morning (despite only a dozen tables...) so they weren't bussing tables fast enough to jeep this jay away. The most interesting part was that it would pick up a set of packets, and if they were artificial sugar, the link and yellow ones, he would drop them. The real sugar, the white and brown packs were taken away to some secret stockpile. Amazing that or could tell between sugar and splenda. Easily the funniest part was an hour later when three jays were hyper all over the back yard, flying this way and that making a giant ruckus. Quality entertainment right there.

After breakfast I took advantage of the shower, then started to catch up on email. Mike had worked out our apartment situation, so I just had to sign the lease. This turned into quite the ordeal as I got it printed and signed, but then the fax machine wouldn't work. After a few tries I gave up and emailed photos of each page to Mike. What a headache, but at least thats one less thing to worry about when I get home. With the lease stuff resolved I moved on to packing my food. This was a box that had been forwarded from Echo Lake, soit didn't perfectly match my needs. Plus I had some leftover food from the last section due to several restaurant meals so I wanted to pare down my stash. No need to carry ahl that extra weight. It took about 30 minutes, but afterward I was happy to see all the stuff I wouldn't be putting on my back.

Finally I was ready to go, and I took off back along the road towards the trail. It seemed so much shorter this time when my legs were fresh at the start of the day... Right around 4:00 I hit the trailhead, and I knew I was in for a short day. The while way I was climbing, and my legs weren't exactly feeling the best after the punishment from yesterday. I made 5 miles by 7pm when I stopped to make dinner. The Ashland Inn was right there and they generously allow hikers to get water from a spigot out front. Plus the picnic table was perfect for making dinner. One of the dogs harassed me while I ate, I think because he wanted some tuna or rice. When I left I felt weighed down and bloated, and despite my intention to tack on another 4-5 miles I only made one before calling it quits on account of my disagreeable stomach. I'll really have to make up miles tomorrow to compensate for this near goose egg of a day.

Miles Today: 6 (+1)
Trip Mileage: 1139
PCT Mile Marker: 1720

Photo: Sourdough was in Ashland!

Day 81 (8/6) Marathon Man!

So I'm on a bit of a schedule to finish in time for the start of school, so there isn't too much room for short days like the ones early this week. Plus, there is afn all-you-can-eat pasta dinner at Callahan's, so I had double incentive to make up for lost time. I was on my way at 7:45, south 29 miles of trail and one mile of road between me and dinner. The morning was a blur as I churned out 18 miles by 3pm when I stopped for water. The big highlight of the morning was running into Forever & Ever who I had met back at Kennedy Meadows. Their ice axes and crampons were list in the mail, so they took it as a sign to avoid the snow in the Sierras and jumped up to Old Station. How cool to see familiar faces again on the trail! I wished them the best and we all walked away with smiles.

So at 3pm I took a 30 minute break for the health of my feet and for my sanity. You can only go for so long in one stretch... The water source was a black pipe running into a stagnant pond, thankfully above the surface. Apparently it is spring-fed, and it was actually great water. I assessed my situation at this point and realized I had to get in by 8:30 if I wanted dinner. That meant holding a 2.4 mph pace for the next 5 hours - no small task. Nonetheless I was committed and driven by the thoughts of good food.

Fantasies of pasta and meat sauce danced through my head as I pressed ahead, and by 5:30 I had picked up 20 minutes, ETA now 8:10. Every hour I took a five minute break, devoured a snack and elevated my legs. By 6:30 my feet were complaining loudly, and around 7:00 my legs threatened to give up.  However I kept walking and they never followed through on the threat. At 7:15 I got a good view of the highway not more than a quarter mile away. My body breathed a collective sigh of relief, almost there. Then my heart sank as the trail turned to the southwest and started climbing. Callahan's was to the northwest and down, so two of three were the wrong direction. I cursed at the trail designers, and willed myself to keep going. This is what I get for not studying the maps more closely... I continued my progress southwest and just felt crestfallen as the minutes passed. I hummed the song 'Sanctuary' to take my mind off the pain below my waist. Its only 8 lines so I repeated it many, many times... Finally when I had nearly given up hope of making it on time, I saw the flash sunlight off a car parked along the road. My pace quickened and I jumped up onto the asphalt and hurried to get to dinner. It was 0.5 miles to the place the PCT leaves the road, then another one to the lodge. I was numb as I walked the shoulder, totally shutting out my screaming feet. Before I knew it I came around a corner and I only had to walk an underpass to get there. That may have been the longest 200 feet of the day as all the hurt came rushing back.

I limped to the front desk and asked fie the hiker special; $40 for AYCE spaghetti dinner, shower, laundry, camping in the backyard, and AYCE pancake breakfast. The host wanted to show me around first, but I insisted that could wait until after eating especially since the restaurant would close in just an hour. She didn't quite understand how urgently I needed food but consented to letting me eat right away. Dinner for me is usually between 6 and 7, so by 8 I was HUNGRY, despite whatever energy bars, candies, etc I may have eaten during that final 12 mile push. She said there were a few tables of hikers, so I would have my pick. Once I saw them though, the choice was simple. At a take with one open seat were Sourdough, Turtle and Magellan! Sourdough I had met at the snow course, and I briefly met the other two in Kennedy Meadows. Sourdough was delighted to see me and announced that this proved the trail is like a rubber band. I got further evidence of that when Pat & Sandy  (also from snow school) walked up, now called Nice & Steady. They wouldn't day who was which as it apparently changes based on each of their moods. How neat to see them again, especially this far up trail.

Service was atrociously slow, allegedly due to a party of 15. But after waiting 30 minutes without ever seeing a waitress, I finally begged the busboy to drop in my order. It seemed that they were just understaffed by one or two people... When the food finally came it was good, and two and a half plates banished any thoughts of hunger, and I enjoyed another hour of conversation with the other three hikers. Finally we tired and each went to a spot on the back lawn where we pitched our tents on perhaps the softest bedding of the entire trip. My feet were throbbing but I felt great about having just finished my first 30 mile day since returning from injury. Rock and roll!

Miles Today: 29 (+1)
Trip Mileage: 1132
PCT Mile Marker: 1726

Photo: Ashland, OR