Sorry in advance for this inevitably disjointed post. I am exhausted...and writing it during the commercial breaks during Julia Roberts' Sleeping with the Enemy, and oh Jesus. Her hair. This was a "short" section, just 100 miles. We started at the Castle Craggs State Park. It was beautiful if buggy. We climbed out of the park and headed south for a few days. As we were mostly ridge walking we had some incredible views, that is until the smoke moved in. Don't worry though, the fires are allegedly in Oregon and not on the trail. WeeBee's parents were doing trail magic at highway 3 and at the trailhead here in Etna. Their 1978 VW bus is one of my favorite sights on the trail. Oh Lawd. The movie just ended. Have you seen Slwwping with the Enemy?!! What do you think happens when the cops get there?!! Okay. Back to the trail. The trail felt very full during this section. At one point there were twelve (yes TWELVE!) hikers at a spring!!! I am not sure if this is because the "herd" has caught up, because this was the first water source in 14 miles, or because we all left town at about the same time, but there certainly were a lot of us. I had some foot pain on the last two days of this stretch, but nothing compared to how they felt on Hat Creek Rim. It sounds like a lot of folks has feet troubles in that heat though, so that makes me feel a little better. Today's zero was a great zero, charging me up for the trail. I am getting close close close to Oregon and Ashland! Can't wait!!!
Socks are very important to me. After three months on the trail, I consider myself a bit of an expert. Ladies synthetic dress socks: Yogi recommended wearing two of these as they are cheap and I am not sue why else. I hated them. They don't wick sweat away, they become saturated in dirt very quickly, wear put pretty fast, and gave me big old blisters. Bottom line: don't do it! Wright socks: I had worn these in the past and a fellow hiker recommends them. These are thin double layered cotton socks. They felt good on my feet but they wore out pretty quickly (rotating two pair, they wore out in about 100 miles). Bottom line: At $6-10 a pair, they are not for a thru hike Smart wool PhD light mini: these socks were recommended by a woman in the REI near Agua Dulce. At first I thought they were too think on the sole, but I've grown used to them and really enjoy them. After over 1000 miles (I have had them that long and probably worn them 300 miles or so), they finally sprouted small holes on both heels. Bottom line: at $14 a pair (they were on sale) they are really fantastic socks. Girls Wigwam lightweight: I bought these because they were on sale for $6 instead of $10. I had them for about 400 miles before I regrettably lost one :( I loved them, they had shown very little wear. The only downside was that they Are very low and let dirt into my shows. Bottom line: if you have smallish feet (I wear a 7 when I am not hiking) kids socks may be the way to go! Keen Olympus lightweight: I am testing Keen's new line of super durable socks this summer. Unfortunately the lightweight version is not durable at all. The socks sprouted holes after less than 75 miles of wear. Bottom line: nope. Not worth it. Keen's Olympus mid weight: these are much better than the lightweight version. I have worn then for over 300 miles with no problems. Bottom line: I don't know what they would cost retail but I like this weight sock. Darn Tough midweight: I picked these up in Tahoe at WeeBee's recommendation. These are guaranteed for life (as are the Keen's). So far I love them and while they show a little wear, they show no signs of holes! Bottom line: at $17 a pair, they are pricey but guaranteed for life! Do it!
Lets see, what has happened since I last posted? I hiked 400 miles (I'm now in Dunsmuir at mile 1506.5) I passed the halfway point I sat in poison oak I took one shower and did laundry once (I believe I reached Type 5 BO. See the dirtbag diary podcast for details) I saw my first two Cascade volcanoes (Lassen and Shasta) I had ice cream for breakfast no less than three times I took three neros and no zeros I saw my fourth bear This has been quite the section, but I am starting to realize why people loose momentum and get off the trail in Northern California (don't worry! I'm not getting off!!) The terrain is not difficult, but it is hot and dry. The views are beautiful, but they are gently beautiful instead of the overwhelming beauty of the Sierras. I also am just simply tired. I've had only two half days in the last twenty-one (not counting today). I've been racing toward Ashland, trying to make up two days in order to meet Bill on the third. I've made up the time but geez am I ever tired. Advice to future hikers: make a schedule but don't stress about following it. Give yourself extra days if you're trying to meet someone. It is no fun pushing extra miles. I have also been experiencing a peculiar phenomenon since leaving Tahoe. Hikers are continually saying things like "I'm feeling pressure to up the miles. I've got to get to [insert an place that is not California]." Except for getting to Ashland (and I don't have to up my miles much to do this), I don't feel this pressure. Honestly, it bums me out when friends think they must walk 30 miles a day at this point because that means I'll probably never seen them again. However, I am perfectly content walking 22-25 miles a day and getting a nice along siesta in during the hottest part of the day. I feel lucky that WeeBee feels the same way! I want to thank all the trail angels I've encounter in this stretch: Bill and Margaret of the Red Moose Inn in Sierra City Brenda and Laurie Braaten of Little Haven in Belden Gourmet, who provided beer and burgers at Hwy 36 Nancy, Mike, and Stephen, who fed us dinner at Warner Springs campground just north of Drakesbad Guest Resort Jeannie-bug and Kermit, WeeBee's parents for picking us up, shuttling us around, snacks, and doing our laundry!!!
WeeBee and I were lucky enough to stay with two of her friends, Bob and Michele, here in South Lake Tahoe.
Access to a real kitchen and our own little "Shangri-La" have been invaluable for morale. Eating something from a plate is an incredible luxury. Eating something on a plate and not made in a restaurant? Divine.
Last night we made my mom's friend's famous shells for dinner. The original recipe is very simple: ground beef, cheese, and Ragu sauce in pasta shells. We doctored it up a bit, making a homemade sauce. It was all I have been dreaming about for the last 500 miles and then some. We also served a large green salad and focaccia bread.
For breakfast, we cooked bacon cheddar scones. I don't want to toot my own horn, but...I'll just let you imagine how tasty they were.
Tomorrow we're back on th
This section was just full of trail magic! It was a lot of fun and also served to remind me that this hike would be impossible without help from my family, friends, and the hiking community. So thank you trail angels! Thanks you Mom and Dad! Thank you Bill and Dave! Thank you Kermit and Jeannie-bug!
When we got to Sonora Pass, there were several trail angels with food and drinks for us raggedy hikers. Most of us looked like we had been through one of those old-fashioned clothes dryers, the ones with the rollers. We were all disheveled and skinny (especially Beorn!) and slightly soggy from the biblical rains during the previous days.
After a while, WeeBee's parents, Kermit and Jeannie-bug, showed up in their fabulous Kermit-the-Frog-green VW Westy. They brought cupcakes, fruit and, for WeeBee and I, bagel sandwiches bursting with veggies. They also brought my resupply box! Thanks a bundle.
I traveled with WeeBee's family down to Kennedy Meadows (the northern version) to spend the night.
Two days later, we met WeeBee's parents and the trail angel, Chipmunk, at Ebbets Pass for yummy food (chili poured over easy over eggs...soooo good) and good company. It was a great place for a siesta.
We pushed through the last two days with visions of a real kitchen and a real house in Tahoe. WeeBee has friends who let us stay with them.
At 5:30 am on the morning of my 67th day on the trail, I awoke to the sound of what I assumed was rain. I decided to go back to sleep and let it pass. When I heard WeeBee packing up camp, I figured it must be safe, so I awkwardly stumble-hobble-Quasimodo-crawled out of my tent, as I do every morning. Turns out, it hadn't rained, but snowed! Not enough to accumulate, but enough to wake me up.
While I was eating my Poptart and Nutella breakfast, it began to sprinkle snow again. I ran to bring all my things under the large pine tree which I'd been leaning against. I packed up in record time and quickly made a pack cover out of a large white compactor bag to keep my pack dry. I also threw on my beige rainsuit (all my clothes are either beige or pink, they are all hideous).
We then hit the trail. Now, I had been under the impression that after we were out of the high Sierra, the hiking would be easy. However, instead of gradually climbing up north-south valleys and then switchbacking to the top of a pass and repeating the same in reverse once a day, we were suddenly crossing east-west valleys, going straight up and down these admittedly smaller mountains, three or four times a day. This was exhausting, but doable.
As we descended into our first valley of the day, the snow turned to rain. It drizzled all day. I felt like I was hiking in the Hoh Rainforest back home. Except that I KNEW I was in California, where it never rains. We hiked 18 miles with only two ten minute breaks, and those we took standing. It was a little rough.
By the time we reached Wilmer Lake at 4:00. we were completely soaked and frozen. My hands looked like a shriveled science experiment, tan on the back, and fish-belly white and folded like a brain on the palms and fingertips. It was not one of my cuter moments. I threw up my tent and crawled inside, shouting a "Good night!" to WeeBee. I read, inhaled about 1500 calories and finally went to sleep at about 7:00.
At about midnight, I awoke from a dream, at which point, I realized that my feet were wet. Sure enough, as the nigh progressed, I realized that I should have seam sealed my tent as there were puddles at my head and feet. I spent the night huddled on my half length sleeping pad island.
The next morning, when I awoke from my fitful and careful sleep, it was still raining. About ten feet down the trail, well there was no trail. It had turned into a small river. I navigated that and continued. There was a dip in the trail near the lake, which meant that the trail was under two feet of water. What a way to start the day, I thought.
A quarter mile farther north, I ran into WeeBee, looking concerned. Behind her was a river. A river with no log across it. A swollen river that was raging upstream and deep downstream. We ended up crossing together, arm in arm. We survived, although the river was up to our hoo-hahs. It was the bath that I didn't get in Tuolumne Meadows.
The rest of the day was characterized by flooded trails and wet feet. We survived and thankfully the rain stopped just before me made camp so that we
This was a great section. The skies were blue, the water plentiful, and the mountains began to mellow out as we left the high Sierra.
WeeBee and I are still happily hiking together. I am a lucky duck for finding someone who laughs at my jokes, hikes about my pace, and enjoys a good siesta almost as much as I do! Actually, during this section, we split up for two nights for the first time in about 450 miles
(WeeBee met up with a friend and took the John Muir Trail when the PCT and JMT diverge at the Devil's Postpile while I hiked the PCT).
On day 63, Pinco, as Israeli hiker and one of my favorite guys on the trail, and I went fishing at Thousand Island Lake, about 17 miles south of Tuolumne Meadows. We tried for about an hour and a half, with no luck. We could see the fish jumping, but they just weren't interested in what we were tossing out, I guess. It was a bummer because Pinco assured me that he knew exactly how to cook a fish in my Foster's can pot over my alcohol stove.
Finally, we gave up and crossed Island Pass to find a campsite. As we were crossing the pass, Pinco began to ask me about California geography, mainly the best way to get from the trail to San Francisco. I was unsure (my grasp of California geography does not extend much beyond knowing that Sacramento is north of San Francisco, and San Fran is north of LA). He went on to explain that he had a flight to Hawaii in about two weeks. After Hawaii, he was going home! I couldn't believe that he was getting off the trail, but he had never planned to thru hike. I cannot imagine doing that, but to each their own, and hike your own hike.
The next day was the Solstice. Also known as Naked Hiker Day (at this point, I was still not hiking with WeeBee). I had really been looking forward to this day. Unfortunately, I was camped just 16 miles south of Tuolumne Meadows, a busy and accessible part of Yosemite NP. And it was a Friday. So a busy day in a busy part of the park. Thus, in order to avoid running into families and the general public, I decided to hike sin ropa until Donahue Pass, whence I would don my "uniform" and continue into the valley.
This went well for about 200 yards. I almost immediately lost the trail and ended up walking into a campsite populated by two guys just a little older than I. Being lost, I asked, "where did the trail go?" They looked at me like a naked girl had stumbled into their camp at 6:30 in the morning, a little stunned. It was common knowledge in the PCT hiker world that it was Naked Hiker Day, but I think these were John Muir Trail hikers or weekend warriors. One finally and awkwardly responded, "Someone came down here last night. This is not the trail. The trail is up the hill. You better go up there." I thanked him and headed back up the hill, passing Bambi (a guy from Tacoma), who studiously averted his eyes.
I walked on down the trail, enjoying myself completely. Hey, its fun to be naked! After about twenty minutes, I ran into three JMT hikers, two men and a woman. I stepped aside to let them pass. When the man in the lead saw me, he said, in an excessively loud voice, "Oh! Naked hiker!" The three then averted their eyes and ignored my cheerful, "Good morning!" as well as my "Happy Solstice!" This encounter left me feeling pretty uncomfortable not because I was naked exactly, but because they had been so awkward about the whole thing. And rude. When someone says, "Good morning," you should respond!
After another mile or so, I started to get cold (I was above 10,000 feet at this point), so I gave up on my naked hike, 3 miles short of my goal. I felt defeated and seriously bummed out. I just about ran the rest of the way to the Tuolumne Store where I ate mountains of chips and rivers of Mammoth Brewing Company's 395 IPA. Oh, and three It's It ice cream bars. Yum.
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