A New State
The short 37 mile stretch between the Seiad Valley and the Oregon border turned out to be much more enjoyable than I even could have expected. After waiting for the post office to open, and downing a single 1 lb pancake (not 5 like the infamous 'Pancake Challenge' dictates), I took off, alone, up a long 4500 ft vertical climb out of the valley just before the intense heat set in. The hiking felt absolutely fantastic after having spent the equivalent of 2 days off, one in Etna, and the other hitching around the fire, and more importantly, having a new pair of shoes. Finally I have some cushion under my feet and every rock stepped on doesn't cause me to wince in agony. Once at the top of that 4500 ft climb, the trail meandered along a ridge, giving really nice views of smoky ridges that stretched as far as the eye could see, reminding me of views I've gotten back east of the fantastic 'smoky' Blue Ridge Mountains.
I was pushing pretty hard to try to catch Truant and Sweetfish, who had left the night previous, to cross into Oregon in good company. I would later find out that I managed to pass them at lunch time when they were hiding in some shade barely off the trail. Apparently I'm a stealthy hiker, not a loud one. I'd say that's a good trait.
What Limit?
37 miles after I had started hiking that day, I found myself at the Oregon border, with no more than 10 minutes of daylight to spare. Earlier in the day I had told myself that if I didn't catch my friends before the border, then I'd just keep hiking by myself until I finally reached a goal I'd been dreaming of for months: the elusive 50 mile day. Thing is, I had always been planning the 50 mile day under more ideal circumstances. A bit further north in Oregon where the trail is supposedly dead flat, after starting at dawn for optimal daylight amts, and not after a 4500 ft climb to start the morning. No matter, I was feeling inspired and had to get that goal out of the way.
The moon was full, allowing me to use my headlamp only half of the time I was hiking, which was essential given the fact that the batteries would wind up dying on me JUST before getting to my chosen camp. The valleys below were spectacular when bathed in moonlight, and each saddle that I'd come upon bridging the gap between mountains would prove to be more and more fun to walk through than the previous one. I was taking nearly constant breaks after the 40 mile mark to help satisfy my nonstop hunger, but didn't mind since the moonlight gave the night such a cool character. Somewhere in there I decided to push even further than 50 miles, and instead to do 55 so that I could finish at one of the few shelters on the trail, and take at least a majority of the following day off to let my body recover.
2 miles before the shelter I was completely shocked to find my first bit of trail magic in the longest time. There were two coolers hidden under a tree, one with caffeinated beverages, the other with Miller High Life. I desperately needed the Mountain Dew since I was starting to continually yawn and feel exausted, and packed out a beer for celebration the following day. Not only had Oregon supplied me with superb nighthiking and a great mood since stepping foot into her, but she also provided this. Then it became easy to hike those remaining 2-3 miles, finishing my 55 mile day at 4:45 am.
Relaxation
I never really got a chance to sleep that morning since other hikers left and chatted with me, and other day hikers showed up to picnic, hike, or bird-watch in the area. Who needs sleep after a 55 mile day anyway? Nearly every local who came up to me had an interest in my hike, and nearly everyone offered some form of generosity. Again: I LOVE OREGON!. Cliff bars, oranges, soda, and even a place to stay were all offered to me. The shelter was a massive open air structure in a beautiful valley overlooking a sweet view of Mt Ashland. There was water downhill a tiny bit from the shelter, and there was no need to take a northbound step that day.
Toward the end of the day Sweetfish and Truant showed up seperately: Sweetfish pushing on to get into town that night, and Truant to wind up staying and treat me with great conversation deep into the night over a fire, and then lying in sleeping bags realizing we had all the time in the world to chat, and no need to rush to sleep.
Civilization
Since we only had 11 miles to hike into town, we took our sweet sweet time rolling out of the sleeping bags and into a chilly Oregon morning. An awesome Australian couple gave us a lift into town, and even offered us money to buy a beer at one of the local brewpubs. We have been craving Indian food for weeks, and Ashland like nearly every college town, had 2 Indian restaurants, both even had lunch buffets. It was lunchtime, and we needed a buffet to satisfy our appetites, but both joints were oddly closed on the weekend. Instead we followed the advice of Aussie Malcolm and went to a cool little Mexican joint downtown, Agave.
Following Sweetfish's lead, we picked up packages at the PO and then went back to a free spot to stay in town that he had secured days and days ago back at Burney Falls Park in NorCal. It was a huge studio that belonged to a woman who does scene design and other fun stuff in this funky, arty town of Ashland. She showed up hours later and gave us a lift to Safeway to get supplies for a BBQ that we were invited to that night. At this BBQ, I had tons of great conversation about the Oregon and city of Ashland that all of these people loved, and naturally fielded questions about what life on the trail was like. One guy told me about Mt Thielson, which I need to research to find out if the trail goes near it. Apparently it is an old volcano, and consists entirely of the sweetness that is Obsidian. If you climb to the top, you can see where it is constatnly being struck by lightening and shaped into these odd jagged columns inside. I must see this mtn if we go near it.
Getting Cultured
While at this party, we found out that Connie, the woman we are staying with, could get us free tickets into Ashland's legendary Shakespeare festival. Normally tickets cost over $100/pop, but she scored us 3 seats, second row on the balcony. I hadn't been to a play since the end-days of college, and it wound up being a great experience. After it was all over, we all chatted with Connie until she took off in her SUV for the California coast and a 4 day kayak adventure/vacation. Now we have the day to ourselves, her space becoming our space. A space that will be abused for planning and organizing all food and gear needed for the rest of Oregon. The rest of Oregon will be 2 weeks of resupplying at resorts just off the trail, but no trips into real towns that sell food. All supplies must be shipped to the resorts to be picked up, so there isn't much margin for error in estimating the amt of necessary grub. I'm starting to think that if I'm making good time (everyone says Oregon is easy, but no one can comment on the rumored snow that could slow us down), I may take a long hitch down into the city of Bend, which I've been interested in visiting for a couple of years now. Quite a long hitch, but would a nice reward if I can afford the time.
I probably won't be able to update this blog for nearly a month since there probably aren't computers for us to use at all of these resorts. Crater Lake and Timberline Lodge near Mt Hood should be spectacular, with gourmet buffets I hear, but no online connection till perhaps Cascade Locks, a TOWN! just at the WA Border. Till. then....
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Rome still burns
Recently my mindset has shifted a bit: I want nothing more than to get the hell out of California. Sure we keep hearing stories of snow around Crater Lake, and the 'impassable' passes in Washington, but at least I would be out of fire country. I'm here in the sleepy, quaint town of Etna, CA, just south of a new trail closure through the Marble Mountain Wilderness. The name of this wilderness area alone should be enough to make you realize how spectacular the are would be.
I digress....the days preceeding my current frustration have been fascinating. I went to 3towns (the tri-city challenge) within 24 hours for a pizza buffet and outfitter in Mt Shasta City, the bus to Shasta in Dunsmuir, and then a replacement trekking pole waiting for me at the PO in Castella. About 8 miles out of Castella, I enterened the Trinity Alps Wilderness. The past week had been a torturous fight against nature, through poison-oak overgrown trail, opressive heat, and thick thick humidity (remember I'm from the south..I know humidity)...so it was nice to get high in elevation, over 7,000 ft, into breezes, thinner air, and wide wide views. The Trinity Alps have a very unique appearance, and are different than the 2 mtn ranges that follow it. The rocks are Ultramafic rocks according to the guidebook, and they all tend to change to a rust color over time. Not red rocks like in Sedona, AZ, but still fun to look at. There were long ridges where you could walk for miles without a tree obscuring your view of the lakes and valleys below.
Next up was the Russian Wilderness. These mtns were all granite, much like the High Sierra country. No snow though. Around this time, the smoke really started to roll in and I could even see across the narrow canyon to the mountains on the other side. The cliffs to the east were spectacular, but it was dissappointing to not be able to perceive the great views that surely existed if it weren't for the thick smoke. About 7 miles later I was to a road.
This road marks as far north as I can hike on the PCT, since there is fire across the trail and firemen in the area trying to put it out. I waited with Roadrunner for over 45 minutes for a hitch on a road that saw only 4 cars driving by in that amt of time. Luckily a really nice guy picked us up on his way to Yreka from work, he swore he would be the last person driving on that road before dark, and it was still over an hour until darkness would descend. We got left off at the CCTG (Cali Campus Training Group), who house hikers for free. They let us take showers (it's been over a week I think, if you don't count my "bath" in a creek 5 days ago), laundry, and use their kitchen for a luxurious meal of mac-n-cheese. Keep in mind that I ditched my stove and pot back before the high-sierra, now all of my meals are soaked and cold. Try to imagine how much I enjoy hot meals now. And hot showers. But can't say the same for 'cold water'. The water is ice-cold when straight from a spring, and definitely lacks that nasty city chlorine flavor.
Now I'm taking the day off to rest my ailing feet that got really eaten alive over the past 3 30+ mile days, being housed in shoes that have walked over 1,000 miles. Luckily my shoes were waiting for me at the post office here. Hopefully I will be able to hitch to Yreka (native american word for Mt Shasta)then to Seiad Valley tomorrow once Sweetfish and Truant show up in town. This will make me skip nearly 60 miles of trail, putting me less than 30 miles from the CA/OR border. Finally, out of California and the wildfires (pretend you can't hear that Mt Adams is burning in WA for the moment.) Until Ashland....
I digress....the days preceeding my current frustration have been fascinating. I went to 3towns (the tri-city challenge) within 24 hours for a pizza buffet and outfitter in Mt Shasta City, the bus to Shasta in Dunsmuir, and then a replacement trekking pole waiting for me at the PO in Castella. About 8 miles out of Castella, I enterened the Trinity Alps Wilderness. The past week had been a torturous fight against nature, through poison-oak overgrown trail, opressive heat, and thick thick humidity (remember I'm from the south..I know humidity)...so it was nice to get high in elevation, over 7,000 ft, into breezes, thinner air, and wide wide views. The Trinity Alps have a very unique appearance, and are different than the 2 mtn ranges that follow it. The rocks are Ultramafic rocks according to the guidebook, and they all tend to change to a rust color over time. Not red rocks like in Sedona, AZ, but still fun to look at. There were long ridges where you could walk for miles without a tree obscuring your view of the lakes and valleys below.
Next up was the Russian Wilderness. These mtns were all granite, much like the High Sierra country. No snow though. Around this time, the smoke really started to roll in and I could even see across the narrow canyon to the mountains on the other side. The cliffs to the east were spectacular, but it was dissappointing to not be able to perceive the great views that surely existed if it weren't for the thick smoke. About 7 miles later I was to a road.
This road marks as far north as I can hike on the PCT, since there is fire across the trail and firemen in the area trying to put it out. I waited with Roadrunner for over 45 minutes for a hitch on a road that saw only 4 cars driving by in that amt of time. Luckily a really nice guy picked us up on his way to Yreka from work, he swore he would be the last person driving on that road before dark, and it was still over an hour until darkness would descend. We got left off at the CCTG (Cali Campus Training Group), who house hikers for free. They let us take showers (it's been over a week I think, if you don't count my "bath" in a creek 5 days ago), laundry, and use their kitchen for a luxurious meal of mac-n-cheese. Keep in mind that I ditched my stove and pot back before the high-sierra, now all of my meals are soaked and cold. Try to imagine how much I enjoy hot meals now. And hot showers. But can't say the same for 'cold water'. The water is ice-cold when straight from a spring, and definitely lacks that nasty city chlorine flavor.
Now I'm taking the day off to rest my ailing feet that got really eaten alive over the past 3 30+ mile days, being housed in shoes that have walked over 1,000 miles. Luckily my shoes were waiting for me at the post office here. Hopefully I will be able to hitch to Yreka (native american word for Mt Shasta)then to Seiad Valley tomorrow once Sweetfish and Truant show up in town. This will make me skip nearly 60 miles of trail, putting me less than 30 miles from the CA/OR border. Finally, out of California and the wildfires (pretend you can't hear that Mt Adams is burning in WA for the moment.) Until Ashland....
Saturday, July 5, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Lost Weight
What's the longest you've gone without looking in the mirror? A day? Two? I hadn't really looked into the mirror for weeks until last night upon getting into Truckee. Sure I've glanced to make sure my hair looked ok, or to see how ridiculous my beard looks. This time I realized how much weight I've lost and how skinny I've become. This caused me to proceed to step on a scale and find out that I've lost at least 15 lbs, and that was with a full stomach after dinner. Thing about it is, I feel better than I've felt in a long time. Not much muscle on upper body, not a shred of fat, but feel superb everyday.
To correct this possibly weight problem, I'm taking a zero day here at a trail angel's house in Truckee. After taking a shower as soon as I got here, there was a huge dinner waiting for us. There are 6 hikers here, and we had a feast of SALMON!!!, Ribs, steak, chicken, stir-fry, Corn on the Cob, and Potato Chips. Wow. Today I'm taking the day off for an egg/pancake/coffee breakfast, TONS of little debbie junk foods, bagels with cream cheese, fruit salad, and another amazing dinner I'm sure. CALORIES is the name of the game before I get out and possibly hike all 40 miles into the next town of Sierra City in one day.
Relaxation
A day off in Truckee staying at a sweet cabin on Lake Donner means recreation and relaxation. There are boats, canoes, and kayaks here that we are free to use. I'm hoping to score a bike and ride into Truckee, but not sure if the guy here only has fancy road bikes, which I don't want to be responsible for ruining. At the very least, I plan on getting in a kayak, paddling to the park on the opposite shore, and loafing for hours. Oh yea, there will definitely be some swimming thrown in there too.
The miles, the smoke
I have been flying the past few days due to many reasons. Well, not really flying, but the 25+ mi days have felt really fast because I haven't been allowing myself many breaks. Reason being there is smoke everywhere destroying the views, and there are mosquitoes everywhere there isn't wind making sitting still a lesson in patience.
The views? Well, when not clouded in smoke, they have been of some funky, metamorphic/volcanic (where is geologist Steve Taylor when you need him?) rocks, unlike any I've ever seen before. Lots of really cool, craggy spires...covered in green lichen, and crumble under the touch. Luckily most of the excessive water hundreds of miles south is gone, but not the mosquitoes. Still, I'm not crossing over 20 streams each day via logs/rocks, wading thru waist deep water, or dancing around too many muddy bogs. It's really really really nice to be hiking on dry land again. Really nice.
To correct this possibly weight problem, I'm taking a zero day here at a trail angel's house in Truckee. After taking a shower as soon as I got here, there was a huge dinner waiting for us. There are 6 hikers here, and we had a feast of SALMON!!!, Ribs, steak, chicken, stir-fry, Corn on the Cob, and Potato Chips. Wow. Today I'm taking the day off for an egg/pancake/coffee breakfast, TONS of little debbie junk foods, bagels with cream cheese, fruit salad, and another amazing dinner I'm sure. CALORIES is the name of the game before I get out and possibly hike all 40 miles into the next town of Sierra City in one day.
Relaxation
A day off in Truckee staying at a sweet cabin on Lake Donner means recreation and relaxation. There are boats, canoes, and kayaks here that we are free to use. I'm hoping to score a bike and ride into Truckee, but not sure if the guy here only has fancy road bikes, which I don't want to be responsible for ruining. At the very least, I plan on getting in a kayak, paddling to the park on the opposite shore, and loafing for hours. Oh yea, there will definitely be some swimming thrown in there too.
The miles, the smoke
I have been flying the past few days due to many reasons. Well, not really flying, but the 25+ mi days have felt really fast because I haven't been allowing myself many breaks. Reason being there is smoke everywhere destroying the views, and there are mosquitoes everywhere there isn't wind making sitting still a lesson in patience.
The views? Well, when not clouded in smoke, they have been of some funky, metamorphic/volcanic (where is geologist Steve Taylor when you need him?) rocks, unlike any I've ever seen before. Lots of really cool, craggy spires...covered in green lichen, and crumble under the touch. Luckily most of the excessive water hundreds of miles south is gone, but not the mosquitoes. Still, I'm not crossing over 20 streams each day via logs/rocks, wading thru waist deep water, or dancing around too many muddy bogs. It's really really really nice to be hiking on dry land again. Really nice.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Finally online again
Amazing that I was able to go a month without signing onto the internet. I"m not sure that this has happened since back in grade school, but I'm proud.
So so so so much has happened since then, obviously.
Catastrophe
First the melodrama: my camera fell into a creek. Not just any creek, but a crik 6 days into the High Sierra. My memory card was in there. I have no pictures of the High Sierra at all. And the High Sierra is by far the most beautiful area I have ever been to. Screw the Grand Canyon, the wilderness of Maine, the balds of North Carolina. That hurts, but what can I do? Practice nonattachment.
Onward
Anways, I saw more desert since we last spoke. I went through the typically horrendous stretch of Mojave Desert where people see temps soar over 100 degrees, while walking over the concrete LA Aqueduct, but I was underclouds with a terrifying thunderstorm threatening. The storm never came, but the clouds never failed to amaze us. We took an absurd amount of photographs of these clouds, naturally I can't post any of them since I'm not technologically advanced enough, nor do I have the necessary connections (the real reason).
I got to the High Sierra....carried 10 days of food to go 10 days without seeing a road. Saw no other people out there in the wilderness except for other thru-hiking friends, with the exception of tons of people hiking up Mt Whitney. Yes, I can now brag that I've climbed the tallest mountain in the lower 48. It's a pretty hard climb too, especially when you haven't climbed over 10,000 feet in the past 4 years. I was out of breath constantly, but the views were spectacular, the snow fun to climb over, and the ice creepy to slide around on.
The Infamous Passes
On day 4 or so, we entered the world of infamous passes. I was hiking with friends Sarong and Wasa (dunno real names really, but from Philly and Santa Cruz, respectavily), and we approaches Forrester Pass. I've been reading for months how terrifying the Passes were, and now it was great to see what they were actually like. Once I got 2 miles before the 'V' in the ridge that was Forrester Pass, the trail completely dissapeared under the snow. Out the maps came. Out the ice axe came. It was like hiking in Antarctica out there. Really fun to make up my own route according to the map, and just go cross country to get there. Once I climbed up the steep mountian wall to get to the pass, I could see a staggering view of the alpine lakes on the other side. Going down the mountain from the pass is equally as fun as climbing since I just sat on my butt, and slid down the thing. MUCH MUCH faster than going up.
After about 5 days of hiking in persistant snow, I got sick of snow. There are suncups. I hate hiking on sloped suncups, sliding all over the place. Scraped up shins and legs from postholing in the snow. Snow is water in disguise, and when it melts, it covers the trail downhill in a giant stream. There is water everywhere making it really tricky to decide what is the trail, what is a stream, and what is both. But, it's all so worth it for the views of the mountains in snow. Yes, I want my cake and I want to eat it too.
Beer
After 10 days away from civilization, I went a few miles off trail to Vermillion Valley Resort. Here I picked up some food that Ma shipped me, and took a day and a half off to relax my body. Beer was drank. Tomalie Pie was eaten. Jokes were made. Beer was drank.
Dry?
After going north from VVR, north through Tuolomne Meadows, it may be safe to say that the trail is drying out a bit. There is still surpsingly snow at elevations as low as 8,000 ft. There are no more waist-deep creek fords though, from what I can tell. Now there are actually conveniently placed rocks to hop across instead of making crazy leaps across crazy things to find away across a water source.
However, there was a storm the other day. A storm creepy enough to have me consider going back down the mountain to safer elevations. There was hail. There were the strongest winds I've felt yet out here. Incredibly exposed, but apparently I lived. We got to the top of the pass and thought that the worst of the clouds were passing us. When we wrapped around the mountain 2 miles later, we saw more coming from a different direction. Well, we nearly sprinted, with numb hands and feet, down to the road. I hadn't planned on going into town, but the town of Bridgeport, 30 miles away, offered a dry motel room, food, beer, and most importantly....ice cream. Sweetfish and I got a ride into town by a Mom and her curious daughter. We both had pizza and a burger. I had a teriyaki burger. Later ate an entire cake and pint of Haagan Daaz ice cream. Showered for the first time in 2 weeks or so. Cleaned up some terribly torn up and infected legs and feet. Now I feel much better.
And I hitch hiked alone from Tuolomne Meadows down to Yosemite Valley. The valley was phenomenal itself, but the place is a zoo and a shopping mall. Sadly I'm still holding a grudge for the fact that there was an Ansel Adams 'Gallery'. Not a gallery at all, but really just a store selling his prints in disguise. Ansel would have been disgusted.
I'll be getting online more frequently now....
So so so so much has happened since then, obviously.
Catastrophe
First the melodrama: my camera fell into a creek. Not just any creek, but a crik 6 days into the High Sierra. My memory card was in there. I have no pictures of the High Sierra at all. And the High Sierra is by far the most beautiful area I have ever been to. Screw the Grand Canyon, the wilderness of Maine, the balds of North Carolina. That hurts, but what can I do? Practice nonattachment.
Onward
Anways, I saw more desert since we last spoke. I went through the typically horrendous stretch of Mojave Desert where people see temps soar over 100 degrees, while walking over the concrete LA Aqueduct, but I was underclouds with a terrifying thunderstorm threatening. The storm never came, but the clouds never failed to amaze us. We took an absurd amount of photographs of these clouds, naturally I can't post any of them since I'm not technologically advanced enough, nor do I have the necessary connections (the real reason).
I got to the High Sierra....carried 10 days of food to go 10 days without seeing a road. Saw no other people out there in the wilderness except for other thru-hiking friends, with the exception of tons of people hiking up Mt Whitney. Yes, I can now brag that I've climbed the tallest mountain in the lower 48. It's a pretty hard climb too, especially when you haven't climbed over 10,000 feet in the past 4 years. I was out of breath constantly, but the views were spectacular, the snow fun to climb over, and the ice creepy to slide around on.
The Infamous Passes
On day 4 or so, we entered the world of infamous passes. I was hiking with friends Sarong and Wasa (dunno real names really, but from Philly and Santa Cruz, respectavily), and we approaches Forrester Pass. I've been reading for months how terrifying the Passes were, and now it was great to see what they were actually like. Once I got 2 miles before the 'V' in the ridge that was Forrester Pass, the trail completely dissapeared under the snow. Out the maps came. Out the ice axe came. It was like hiking in Antarctica out there. Really fun to make up my own route according to the map, and just go cross country to get there. Once I climbed up the steep mountian wall to get to the pass, I could see a staggering view of the alpine lakes on the other side. Going down the mountain from the pass is equally as fun as climbing since I just sat on my butt, and slid down the thing. MUCH MUCH faster than going up.
After about 5 days of hiking in persistant snow, I got sick of snow. There are suncups. I hate hiking on sloped suncups, sliding all over the place. Scraped up shins and legs from postholing in the snow. Snow is water in disguise, and when it melts, it covers the trail downhill in a giant stream. There is water everywhere making it really tricky to decide what is the trail, what is a stream, and what is both. But, it's all so worth it for the views of the mountains in snow. Yes, I want my cake and I want to eat it too.
Beer
After 10 days away from civilization, I went a few miles off trail to Vermillion Valley Resort. Here I picked up some food that Ma shipped me, and took a day and a half off to relax my body. Beer was drank. Tomalie Pie was eaten. Jokes were made. Beer was drank.
Dry?
After going north from VVR, north through Tuolomne Meadows, it may be safe to say that the trail is drying out a bit. There is still surpsingly snow at elevations as low as 8,000 ft. There are no more waist-deep creek fords though, from what I can tell. Now there are actually conveniently placed rocks to hop across instead of making crazy leaps across crazy things to find away across a water source.
However, there was a storm the other day. A storm creepy enough to have me consider going back down the mountain to safer elevations. There was hail. There were the strongest winds I've felt yet out here. Incredibly exposed, but apparently I lived. We got to the top of the pass and thought that the worst of the clouds were passing us. When we wrapped around the mountain 2 miles later, we saw more coming from a different direction. Well, we nearly sprinted, with numb hands and feet, down to the road. I hadn't planned on going into town, but the town of Bridgeport, 30 miles away, offered a dry motel room, food, beer, and most importantly....ice cream. Sweetfish and I got a ride into town by a Mom and her curious daughter. We both had pizza and a burger. I had a teriyaki burger. Later ate an entire cake and pint of Haagan Daaz ice cream. Showered for the first time in 2 weeks or so. Cleaned up some terribly torn up and infected legs and feet. Now I feel much better.
And I hitch hiked alone from Tuolomne Meadows down to Yosemite Valley. The valley was phenomenal itself, but the place is a zoo and a shopping mall. Sadly I'm still holding a grudge for the fact that there was an Ansel Adams 'Gallery'. Not a gallery at all, but really just a store selling his prints in disguise. Ansel would have been disgusted.
I'll be getting online more frequently now....
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Sand and Sand
When I chew on my couscous dinners at night, sand crunches between my teeth. My camera lens grinds when I shut it because of sand. If I take my earbuds out of my ears after listening to music, they are covered in sand. Sand is everywhere.
The high desert is an amazingly varied place. I have come to the realization that every canyon has it's own character. Yesterday after leaving Cajon Pass, hiking through the San Andreas Rift Region then through the freakish Mormon Rocks, I saw the greenest canyon I've seen yet. I didn't think much water ran through the area, but there were actually trees on the side of this low elevation canyon. After climbing about 1000 feet, and snaking around to the other side of the mountain, it was all sparse chapperal. Fun. I climbed uphill for hours, finally reached a jeep road and cooked dinner over my woodstove. The plan was to hike another mile or so to find a nice soft spot with pine needles for cushion since I'm using a really thin sleeping pad, but plans never stick with me. I got inspired out of nowhere and decided to nighthike all the way to the road crossing where I"d hitch into this town, Wrightwood. That was 12 miles, a fullish moon at Waxing Gibbous, and no need for a headlamp to see ahead of me. The hiking was slightly sketchy, nearly losing the trail at a few road crossings and at a strange ski resort, finally making it to the road to sleep at 1 am. I slept on the side of the road, which receives no traffic at night. I woke up 5 hrs later to an awesome sunrise over Mt Balden-Powell, which still has lots and lots of snow. I'll be climbing up this tomorrow, hopefully to the peak to get a view of Death Valley, miles and miles away. Now it's time to find one of the local trail angels who take in hikers, for a MUCH needed laundry session. Rinsing in lakes and streams just doesn't cut it for a white shirt in the socal desert.
The high desert is an amazingly varied place. I have come to the realization that every canyon has it's own character. Yesterday after leaving Cajon Pass, hiking through the San Andreas Rift Region then through the freakish Mormon Rocks, I saw the greenest canyon I've seen yet. I didn't think much water ran through the area, but there were actually trees on the side of this low elevation canyon. After climbing about 1000 feet, and snaking around to the other side of the mountain, it was all sparse chapperal. Fun. I climbed uphill for hours, finally reached a jeep road and cooked dinner over my woodstove. The plan was to hike another mile or so to find a nice soft spot with pine needles for cushion since I'm using a really thin sleeping pad, but plans never stick with me. I got inspired out of nowhere and decided to nighthike all the way to the road crossing where I"d hitch into this town, Wrightwood. That was 12 miles, a fullish moon at Waxing Gibbous, and no need for a headlamp to see ahead of me. The hiking was slightly sketchy, nearly losing the trail at a few road crossings and at a strange ski resort, finally making it to the road to sleep at 1 am. I slept on the side of the road, which receives no traffic at night. I woke up 5 hrs later to an awesome sunrise over Mt Balden-Powell, which still has lots and lots of snow. I'll be climbing up this tomorrow, hopefully to the peak to get a view of Death Valley, miles and miles away. Now it's time to find one of the local trail angels who take in hikers, for a MUCH needed laundry session. Rinsing in lakes and streams just doesn't cut it for a white shirt in the socal desert.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Road-walkin' the PCT
What a rough stretch of days. I managed to get sick somehow in Warner Springs, sidelining me for another day. I decided to take off the next day with only a few slices of bread in my stomach over the past 24 hrs. Bad mistake, as any reader could predict. Even though I was feeling better than I was in the past 2 days, I wasn't ready for hiking. I was tired, dehydrated, etc etc. I didn't enjoy the first 17 mile day until I got to the spot I would be camping.
The spot I was camping was trail angel Mike's place. Mike is a local who lets you walk .25 mi down a dirt road, take water from his spigot when he's not even there, and even has a screened in patio that thru-hikers can sleep in. I got here and found 4 other hikers there. Greybeard, Ross (Naugty Eyes), Gopher (who I met last year on the AT), and others I barely noticed in my sickened state. We all sat around goofing around, and I was able to somehow eat a cup of Ramen noodles, which Mike left behind for hikers to eat. See, I've been having a problem eating any of my trail food. It was either too sweet or too bland.
Next day was a bit worse, but I managed to pound out 10 miles by lunch time. After sharing some shade with Ryan, Gopher, and Greybeard, I pushed on in the 90+ deg heat, desperately trying to make it to the Paradise Cafe, 14 miles further! I made it 7 more miles to a water cache, and had to fold it in there. I wasn't able to force any food down the stomach, was having terrible stomach cramps, and decided the smart decision would be to chill for the rest of the day. It was around 3:00, an early time to stop hiking.
I spent the rest of the afternoon talking to Lucky about his state of Michegan, Hawaii, and our hikes of the A.T. I gathered a bit of fuel for fire, which is plentiful here in socal with dead chapperal branches everywhere. I tried to enjoy some spaghetti, then called it a night, without even writing in my journal, which is rare.
The next day I awoke, feeling healthy and ready to hike. Still, I knew I had only 10 miles to hike so I stayed in bed a bit and waited for the sun to heat up the 36 degree air. In the meantime I listened to my mp3 player that I received in Warner Springs. Sweet bliss. When I got moving, hiking had never felt so good. I had an absurd amount of energy. I took frequent breaks when there were enormous boulders to be photographed, or insanely steep, sandy slopes magically holding up tall, purple-flowering plants. Finally I was able to make it down to the valley, and the road crossing.
At the road was another hiker from years past, Tarzan. Tarzan had a huge canopy setup for shade, and was waiting for hikers so that he could feed us his famous Lintel soup and lemonade. good stuff and I sat there for 5 hrs getting some rest.
When I was ready to move on, I hiked another mile west along the road to the Paradise Cafe. I was joined by GoodTimes and a Swiss couple. At this cool, friendly, dive of a bar, I made sure to order their legendary Jose Burger. This was an amazing burger, a burger topped with bacon, swiss cheese, avacado, and mushrooms.
I managed to pull myself away from the crowd, and told myself I would road walk a few miles before dusk set in in 2 hrs. I should say that the trail has been closed for 50 miles due to wildfire. PCT thru-hiker induced wildfire. Apparently a brilliant hiker got the idea to put his ciggarette out in a dead tree stump, then 400 acres went ablaze. Now we either road walk if you are a purist about walking north the whole way, or hitchike this roadwalk. Its 18 miles. 18 miles is a long way to walk on a road. A road without a shoulder. And blind curves.
The first 6 miles actually had a wide shoulder, and this I used until I found a fantastic camping spot 5 miles in. I slept surpisingly well in my sleeping quilt rated to 45 degrees, although it was 21 degrees out. My alarm was set for 5 am, to beat the rush hour traffic. I hiked as hard as I could to get off that damned road, and it took me until 9 to finish those 11 or so miles.
Just before town I met a really cool cyclist named, lets say John. He was cycling from Sacramento to Tijuana, and now back home in Sacramento. He had also cycled west from coast to coast in the US, from Canada to Mexico along the Continetal Divide, and even more impressively to me, from Prudhoe Bay to Homer, in Alaska. Great guy and it was fun to talk to a long-distance cyclist, something I have interest in myself.
Now I'm in town, caught up with friends at a cheap campground in town, showered (still not clean!!!), clean laundry, and stuffed with french toast, eggs, sausage, and a cinnamon roll. Life is good in the cool, small, mountain town of Idyllwild.
The spot I was camping was trail angel Mike's place. Mike is a local who lets you walk .25 mi down a dirt road, take water from his spigot when he's not even there, and even has a screened in patio that thru-hikers can sleep in. I got here and found 4 other hikers there. Greybeard, Ross (Naugty Eyes), Gopher (who I met last year on the AT), and others I barely noticed in my sickened state. We all sat around goofing around, and I was able to somehow eat a cup of Ramen noodles, which Mike left behind for hikers to eat. See, I've been having a problem eating any of my trail food. It was either too sweet or too bland.
Next day was a bit worse, but I managed to pound out 10 miles by lunch time. After sharing some shade with Ryan, Gopher, and Greybeard, I pushed on in the 90+ deg heat, desperately trying to make it to the Paradise Cafe, 14 miles further! I made it 7 more miles to a water cache, and had to fold it in there. I wasn't able to force any food down the stomach, was having terrible stomach cramps, and decided the smart decision would be to chill for the rest of the day. It was around 3:00, an early time to stop hiking.
I spent the rest of the afternoon talking to Lucky about his state of Michegan, Hawaii, and our hikes of the A.T. I gathered a bit of fuel for fire, which is plentiful here in socal with dead chapperal branches everywhere. I tried to enjoy some spaghetti, then called it a night, without even writing in my journal, which is rare.
The next day I awoke, feeling healthy and ready to hike. Still, I knew I had only 10 miles to hike so I stayed in bed a bit and waited for the sun to heat up the 36 degree air. In the meantime I listened to my mp3 player that I received in Warner Springs. Sweet bliss. When I got moving, hiking had never felt so good. I had an absurd amount of energy. I took frequent breaks when there were enormous boulders to be photographed, or insanely steep, sandy slopes magically holding up tall, purple-flowering plants. Finally I was able to make it down to the valley, and the road crossing.
At the road was another hiker from years past, Tarzan. Tarzan had a huge canopy setup for shade, and was waiting for hikers so that he could feed us his famous Lintel soup and lemonade. good stuff and I sat there for 5 hrs getting some rest.
When I was ready to move on, I hiked another mile west along the road to the Paradise Cafe. I was joined by GoodTimes and a Swiss couple. At this cool, friendly, dive of a bar, I made sure to order their legendary Jose Burger. This was an amazing burger, a burger topped with bacon, swiss cheese, avacado, and mushrooms.
I managed to pull myself away from the crowd, and told myself I would road walk a few miles before dusk set in in 2 hrs. I should say that the trail has been closed for 50 miles due to wildfire. PCT thru-hiker induced wildfire. Apparently a brilliant hiker got the idea to put his ciggarette out in a dead tree stump, then 400 acres went ablaze. Now we either road walk if you are a purist about walking north the whole way, or hitchike this roadwalk. Its 18 miles. 18 miles is a long way to walk on a road. A road without a shoulder. And blind curves.
The first 6 miles actually had a wide shoulder, and this I used until I found a fantastic camping spot 5 miles in. I slept surpisingly well in my sleeping quilt rated to 45 degrees, although it was 21 degrees out. My alarm was set for 5 am, to beat the rush hour traffic. I hiked as hard as I could to get off that damned road, and it took me until 9 to finish those 11 or so miles.
Just before town I met a really cool cyclist named, lets say John. He was cycling from Sacramento to Tijuana, and now back home in Sacramento. He had also cycled west from coast to coast in the US, from Canada to Mexico along the Continetal Divide, and even more impressively to me, from Prudhoe Bay to Homer, in Alaska. Great guy and it was fun to talk to a long-distance cyclist, something I have interest in myself.
Now I'm in town, caught up with friends at a cheap campground in town, showered (still not clean!!!), clean laundry, and stuffed with french toast, eggs, sausage, and a cinnamon roll. Life is good in the cool, small, mountain town of Idyllwild.
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