Missed Miles

It's official, I've cheated. These 1,200+ fires have finally gotten to the PCT, and a 100 mile section of trail was closed from around Quincy to Belden to Chester. We got to a road, there was a sign telling us that the trail was closed (which we already knew), and we had to find a way around it all. The road that this left us stranded at was a really quiet road, making us feel desperate about our chances for getting a hitch out. No hitch, then it would be a 30 mile road walk to get to Quincy. Luckily, a woman was going camping down the road, and gave us a lift to town. After doing some research in town, I discovered that there was a bus, that for $3, would drive us all the way to Chester. While we were waiting at the bus stop, temptation came toward us in the form of free tickets to the High Sierra Music Festival that was happening this weekend at Quincy. For only 8 hrs of work helping wave traffic into a parking lot, we could have had 4 days of hippie, jam-band music bliss. I was tempted by the option of relaxing for the weekend listening to tons of music, but turned off even moreso by knowing that this would mean my ears would have to tolerate hours and hours and hours and hours of endless musical noodling.

The bus ride itself was a fun adventure. A couple of locals took an interest in those of us filthy from days on the dusty Norcal trail (10 hikers on the bus), and gave us all sorts of info on the towns we were passing, the lakes with views obscured by smoke, and places to legally (sort of) camp once we got to Quincy. In Quincy, the first object on the agenda was to find dinner. Quickly. Dinner was found at the Kopper Kettle, a mediocre restaurant that served me with the first turkey that I've had on the trail. Darkness had settled in by the time we finished, so we wandered around down to the park that the toothless woman on the bus had told us about. Sure enough, there was camping to be had behind a fence to a baseball field. First I needed more food, and bought 2 pints of ice cream from the gas station. Once that Mint Brownie and Chocolate Maltball dessert was inside of me, I crashed for the night.

3 hours later at 1:00 am, I heard someone shouting 'No! No!'. This was Justin. Then I heard Sheik Olivier yelping. These guys had unknowingly camped next to a set of sprinklers that decided to turn on in the middle of the night. The past 3 days have found us chuckling endlessly over the mental image of guys scrambling around in their boxers, trying to gather their clothing, then prancing across the field in sleepy slumber to avoid the blasts of the sprinkler. Somehow I had chosen a spot that stayed dry throughout the night.

After trying over an hour to get a hitch out of that one-horse town, Sweetfish, Truant, and I decided we needed a break in the form of breakfast number two. The owner of a hardware store directed us to a diner down the street, and his advice was good indeed. I had an absolutely killer Chile Verde omellette that gave me the spiciness I so desperately needed to get going that morning. Once we stepped out the door and were across the street, we were picked up within minutes by the owner of a different diner. We didn't mention that we had just eaten a fantastic breakfast with the competition.

The mix of a full stomach and bloodstream full of caffeine had me flying across the flat trail. It was a strange feeling to be transported to trail 100 miles further north of where we were just hiking less than 24 hrs before. The landscape was different. Flatter. More trees. Less views. But oh so nice to be hiking with soft pine needles and soil underfoot. Our goal was an easy 18 miles that day to Drakesbad Ranch. By 5 we were at Drakesbad, where they treat thru-hikers like kings. As soon as we walked up, we were handed towels, a change of clothes, and asked to hand over our dirty clothing (that would be ALL of our clothing) to a woman who would wash our clothing for us. Then we hopped into the pool heated by the local hot springs. Then we were fed an amazing dinner centered around Duck, and topped off by all we could eat ice cream, raspberry sorbet, and some sort of fancy pastry thingy. Naturally we hopped in the hot springs one last time until it closed before going to bad. Unfortunately there wasn't enough time in the day to hit the horseshoe pit.

Next morning we were treated as royalty again and were allowed to abuse the breakfast buffet for the price that children pay ($5!!!). The hike out was a bit more this time. I needed to do 24 miles to get to a trail angel's place in Old Station. I decided to see more of the park that we were in that the PCT fails to show us. We were hiking through Lassen Volcanic National Park, but the trail kept us stuck in trees the whole time, rarely showing us the volcanoes, and geothermal action that the park is known for. I found a map, then made my own route up taking advantage of side trails to see these things. I split for 4 friends who stuck to the PCT, and was treated to odd land, covered with gray and black sand/gravel. 3 miles west on the PCT it was all soil and pine straw, but over here, everything was different. It was like a desert nearly, punctuated with the occasional tree poking out of the dark gravel. The further I hiked, the weirder things got. Soon there were orange and pink cliffs to my right. Soon Cinder Cone came into view, a nice rounded old volcano. Once I started to climb this Cone, I could see the legendary Painted Dunes. This was the highlight of the past 2 weeks or so. The climb up was brutal, every step sand a few inches into the sand, and it was a slow, steep climb up to the top of this cone. Up top, there was a huge bowl, and even some yellow flowers managing to grow in what seemed to be nothing but gravel. When I turned around to return, I really noticed how amazing those colored dunes were below me. The top of each of these little foothills was dotted with a splash of red, then around that splash was a dab of pink, then a bit of orange, and that faded into a soft brown. It really didn't look real somehow, and especially when in contrast to the 'Fantastic LavaBeds' beside them, which was just lots of huge black rock strewn about, nothing more.

The 10 miles into town were incredibly easy, so easy that I was inspired to do some trail running to pass the time. By 7 I found myself at the General store calling the local trail angels to come pick me up. At their house, dinner was waiting, surrounded by 6 of my friends. There was chili, there was spaghetti, there was salad, and then there were homemade brownies and rootbeer ice cream, made the way I used to make it at Grandma's house, cranked by hand. I was fed well the next morning as well, tons of french toast and eggs. Then I spent an hour lying in a hammock, and not hiking today. What a great experience and a great place to spend time. And it's all run on donations at someone's home. Tomorrow I hike out onto the Hat Creek Rim. An infamous HOT HOT spot and a 30 mile dry stretch.