Category: 2019 Pacific Crest Trail

A very strange occurrence this morning, we woke up before the alarm went off. It looked promising for making our 8 o’clock departure until we discovered we both had to dig holes. The forest was very open and I accidentally dug my first hole where I had line of sight with the three remaining tents. The hole relocation and ensuing time delay almost led to disaster, but I was able to release my shot before the possession buzzer.

We left camp at 8:10 ahead of Hero, Someday, and Wea, but behind everyone else. It turned out to be a lonely morning on the trail for us. Only one nobo passed us going so fast that she barely said hi. We ran across a sobo breaking camp that we talked with for a bit. She had spent the night before last in Trout Lake with Alba and Jordie. It looks like they’re only 4 or 5 days ahead of us, but we won’t be able to put in the miles we have to in order to catch up with them.

Other than those two, we saw just one other unknown hiker. We figured he was a fugitive from justice because he was covered from head to toe. He was wearing a bandanna over his mouth and nose and a hat pulled all the way down to his eye brows. With his sun glasses on, we couldn’t even see his eyes. At the time, we were a little alarm and mystified. It wouldn’t take long for us to solve the mystery.

For the first time, we had blue sky in Washington with cool temperature and low humidity. It was a perfect day for hiking. We got clear views of Mt St Helen, Mt Adams, and Mt Hood. We are smack dab in the middle of a triangle of volcanoes. With the recent earthquakes down in California, I was a little on edge of any seismic activity. I almost came unglued when I heard a low rumble below me. It was so intense that I felt my stomach shake. The last place you want to be is in a triangle of volcanoes when the earth starts to move. I quickly calmed down when I realized it was probably just the stew and noodle concoction I made for supper last night revisiting us.

As we climbed, we began to understand the unknown hiker we had seen earlier. The flying insects were the thickest I have ever seen. New Jersey and New York are no longer on my no hike zone. Although they were terrible when we hiked through them on the AT last year, nothing compares to the torture we endured today. The snow melt has made for fertile larvae breeding grounds. The insects were so thick you could actually kill 5 with every swat on yourself—no need to wait for them to land.

Depending on our location, we had gnats, mosquitoes, or crane flies. I think I might have seasonal allergies which causes me to have a little sinus drip. The small snot stream provided a perfect crane fly strip. It was sticky enough to hold them, but not toxic enough to kill them. That came with the pick of death.

We tried permethrin spray. It didn’t work. We tried deet. It didn’t work. We had a 5 mph wind. It didn’t work. There’s only one tried and true method for repelling flying insects, but it also causes wives to yell. I resigned myself to walking behind Bunny so I wouldn’t get yelled at for farting. It didn’t work (meaning Bunny still yelled at me, but the bugs thinned out a bit).

Blue Lake is the biggest lake in the Indian Heaven Wilderness. I’m guessing the same people that name Congressional Bills also named this wilderness area. The Patriot Act—the most unpatriotic act ever passed by Congress to allow invasive spying on all US citizens without court supervision. The Right to Work Act—allowing companies to fire any employee without cause. Indian Heaven Wilderness—the closest to hell you will ever get on this earth (minus the brimstone). We got to Blue Lake with a strong wind blowing, but the second it stopped, we were swarmed by thousands of mosquitoes. We were going to wait for Someday and Wea because this is where they are stopping tonight. We just couldn’t take it and had to move on. (We did filter water from the lake, it had little red things swimming in it. Unfortunately, we didn’t notice until we had already drank a liter of it.)

For 8 hours today, we could not even stop to take a break. Every time we even started to slow up, we got swarmed. I had to walk with my mouth closed to keep from swallowing bugs (my sinus drip kept me from inhaling them). We ran into a couple more sobos and they said the bugs had been like this just for the last couple of weeks. I don’t know it I can mentally take this.

We tried to find a campsite away from the lakes, but it doesn’t matter. If you stand still for a couple of minutes, they find you. We had originally thought of stopping after 15 miles at Bear Lake—unbearable. Guthook has said there was another possible camping spot with water about 0.6 miles past the lake. Somehow, we missed this spot. Our phone is almost dead so we turned it off so we can possibly call for a ride into town. It took an argument to get Bunny to turn it on only to find out we were already a half mile past the water (which turned out to be another lake).

Bunny spotted a small trickle in a gully. I climbed down to it and found a nice clear pool filled with mosquitoes. We had no choice but use it. I scooped enough water for us to get 4 liters and then we decided to hike on until we found a flat spot. We ended up down in a meadow that we thought looked nice…until we stopped moving. I have never seen mosquitoes swarm so thick and crane flies land on the roof of our tent. We got a double whammy down here, but we are too tired to go on (plus there’s no hope of relief from what the sobos are telling us).

We set up the tent and threw everything in. Eventually, they left just about 1000 as a lookout around our tent to make sure we didn’t get out of the tent. I was able to stick my arm out long enough to boil some water for supper, but now we both are thinking we’ve got to go to the bathroom. Were pinned down in enemy territory and no one knows where we are. I know we’ll have to make a run for it like Butch Cassidy and Sundance. We’re going to wait until dark and hope they don’t have night vision goggles.

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It’s nice having people around again so we’re not the last to leave. That honor went to Hero who was still in his tent when we crossed the bridge. It helped that we have an early target of the pit latrine at Panther Creek Campground. Not having to dig a hole saves time in breaking camp. As it was, we still were late getting out. Our goal was to be on trail by 8. Someday and Wea said goodbye right at 8. We got going at 8:17.

There was a pleasant surprise in the form of fresh fruit, peanut butter stuffed pretzels, and tootsie rolls by our first road crossing. A hiker had been forced off trail because of injuries, so he left his food and purchased some additional food to be left as magic. We enjoyed an apple.

Bunny and Dancing Dog have told me I talk too much about poop and that I need to stop spending so much time on one of the three greatest pleasures of backpacking. Instead, I’ll talk a little bit about basketball. Do you think after not having played professional basketball for all these years, Michael Jordan would still hit the three pointer? I feel confident that he’s still got it. He might get a rim shot a time or two before he starts hitting nothing but net again. This was a huge fear of mine after having been off trail for over a month. Suffice to say, I’ve still got it. To be safe, it would probably be best to have a brown net because the ball is really more of a big mass of brown jello pudding so the net is going to act more like a colander. Am I being too subtle or are you able to follow my symbology?

We caught up with Someday and Wea just before the turn to Panther Creek Campground. Even though we just met, we knew Someday had already taken care of business, but the rest of us had saved up for this magic moment. Honestly, I had heavily anticipated the latrine, that’s why I was so deeply disappointed that my window of opportunity had closed. It did bring back memories of Bear and I discovering what Bear claimed to be an artesian pit latrine in Maine (last year on the AT—double shot). I’m still not convinced that there wasn’t hang time and a cheek shake involved in Bear’s calculation of 1.5 miles deep because I calculated the depth at about 6 feet from release to splash (I consistently had more fiber in my diet than he did).

The next 9 miles was all uphill. Almost 3000’ of it. It wasn’t as humid as yesterday, but it was still bad enough that every inch and crevice of our bodies was soaked with sweat. Bunny chose to try to distract her mind from the climb by listening to music. I chose my usual fantasizing that I was anyone but me. Today I was the President of the USA, a film mogul, an NFL quarterback, a billionaire, a basketball star (goes with the territory), and a world traveling vagabond. All of the scenarios ended the same way for me—sex scandal and divorce. It’s a good thing I have no money and am not good looking.

We did encounter many more people along the way today. We met several other thru-hikers that hiked Southern California, like we did, but then flipped up to the Canadian border and are heading south, saving the Sierra for last. They all gave us good news that we were virtually snow free for the next 200 miles and what snow they did encounter north of there was manageable without spikes. By the time we get there, it should be gone.

Today brought us up over 4000’ elevation and we were hoping for some cooling effect with the altitude. Above 3500’ we finally encountered a breeze and lower humidity which was much appreciated. We were able to catch some views of Mt Hood to our south (covered in clouds) and Mt Adams ahead of us (also covered in snow). We have given up trying to double our daily mileages, but we’re pleased with a respectable (for us) 16+ mile day.

The first person we saw getting into camp was Hero. We thought he was way behind and had kept taking breaks waiting for him, Someday, and Wea to catch up. The overheating and aching feet were just a pretext we used to justify the many breaks because we didn’t want anyone to feel bad. We had also hiked for a while with a German from southwest of the country. I noticed a Camino badge on his pack and he slowed down for us to talk about our common experiences. He just started hiking about 5 years ago but he’s already done the Camin 3 times; once, all the way from Germany across France. He also wants to hike the GR10 (which we have) and the GR20 (Corsica, which is also on our list). First Man is his trail name. He was talking with Hero when we arrived.

This is the fullest camping spot we have seen since getting back on trail. In total, there are 8 tents here tonight with a total 11 people. It brings back memories of when we finally started to encounter people at Warner Springs way back in March (almost exactly 4 months ago). Until then, we had felt very nearly alone on the trail. We still don’t have solid trail legs, yet, but we are feeling stronger each day. I’m thinking we might start putting in a few 20 mile days after Trout Lake. If we can do that, maybe, just maybe, we won’t end up as section hikers.

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Two very unusual things happened last night…it rained all night, and I didn’t get up to pee a single time. I’m pretty sure there’s a causal relationship there, but I’m going with slight dehydration as my excuse. It was Bunny who insisted we get up and pee at 7. The couple that pees together…disgusts everyone who reads about it? I like to have a bit more mystery in our relationship than currently exists but thru-hiking is a 24/7 intimacy.

I’m not afraid of rain. I don’t mind hiking in rain. But I hate to pack up in the rain. With very little effort required, I was able to persuade Bunny to wait out the rain. We chose 1p as the latest time we would leave. Since we were pretty close to the trail (3 tent stakes touching it), we could hear people as they packed up and headed out. By 9, we were the only ones strong willed enough to not be intimidated by peer pressure. When the rain finally stopped at 10, I made my lucky wife brunch in bed. I was guessing that she didn’t really want to get going and wasn’t expecting to be out of camp before noon. We made it on trail by 11:10.

Early morning motivation is not a strong suit for us. That’s why, last year on the AT, it was so nice to hike with Bear and Sassy. Bear would wake Sassy up at 6 and then lie quietly in bed until her initial anger at being awoke subsided. Once they started laughing, we knew it was time for us to get moving. It was a great way to start the day, laying in bed and wondering if this was the day Bear would die. He always pulled through because of his laid back humor. About the only issue I had with Bear was that he didn’t like mint Oreos. Every resupply, Bunny and I walked out of town with 1/2 package of regular Oreos and a full package of mint ones. Now that I ponder that a bit more, that was a good thing that Bear didn’t like mint Oreos since we got 3 times the amount. Bears a good guy. You can never carry too much chocolate when hiking.

The weather this morning can best be described with two words: humm and id. Even though the temperature is not getting above 65, we are dying out here. Maybe it’s the toxins from the last month rushing out through our pores, but I couldn’t take more than 50 steps before having to stop to wipe the sweat off my face and drying off my glasses which had steamed up. It was pretty miserable. When something messes with my eyesight, I have a very hard time staying motivated.

As we were executing our morning climb, we came upon a tent set up in the trail. On a hunch, I asked if Hero was inside. He was. He had pushed on about 3 miles further than us last night trying to keep up with Ryan. That was only his second day of hiking and he started cramping up pretty bad so he decided to take a day of rest. We offered him some electrolytes but he said he had some. We moved on. I know he’ll catch and pass us in the next couple of days. He’s only 20ish and will recover quickly. Once he gets his hiking legs, we won’t see him again.

Around 2, we crossed over our high point for the day and finally encountered a breeze. The clouds finally started breaking up a bit and the sun even made an appearance. Instead of raising the humm iddy, it actually dropped and became a pretty pleasant afternoon. It was too little, too late. Bunny and I had started too late and my socks had really soaked up about a pint of sweat each. My wet socks combined with all the leaf litter that was falling into my boots, started to make some hot spots on my Achilles’ tendons. I kept having to stop to empty my boots. I’m carrying gators but I got out of the habit of using them on the beaches in Oregon. I’m going to have to put Leuko tape on tomorrow and start using my gators again.

We had wanted to make it about 5 miles further today to a National Forest Campground, Panther Creek. Our late start, early humidity, and aching feet made it out of our reach. When we got to Trout Creek to take a break, it was already after 5. We saw a couple we had camped near last night and started talking with them. This is their 3rd day on the trail, just like us and Hero, so we decided to camp here with them.

Chris and Lynn (aka Someday and Wea as in Sacagawea) are from the San Francisco area. Wea’s Family is from Southwest Missouri which proved to us that she is highly intelligent since she left the state. As we were talking to them, Hero strolled into camp. His cramping had eased up so he decided to push on. There is one other hiker here tonight that we haven’t met yet. He was already in his tent asleep by 8. He’s a true thru-hiker, not a wannabe like we have become. I’m in the process of accepting that we aren’t going to be able to complete our PCT thru-hike, but I can’t come to terms with calling myself a section hiker. I still have some dignity left.

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We are so close that I can channel Bunny. This morning, I perceived her wanting a snooze when the alarm went off at 6:15. 9 minutes later I got the signal for another snooze, so I complied. 9 minutes after that, I felt annoyance so I just edited the alarm to go off at 7:15 and felt peace, but at 7:15, I received a mental signal requesting another snooze. At this point, we had been in bed well over 12 hours but I am nothing if not an obedient, well trained husband. I waited until she started to stir before I dared to move. I must maintain a zen-like demeanor if I wish to make it to my wife’s age.

After we had turned in last night, two hikers came by at nearly 7. This was Hero’s first day on the trail having just started at Cascade Locks. Ryan started a few days prior around Three Sisters. They are just doing a section hike. It made me realize that that’s probably all we’re going to end up doing. The odds of us finishing this year are pretty close to zero. Even though we didn’t hit the trail until just after 9 (thanks to Bunny’s insatiable sleep lust) we did manage to pass Hero and Ryan’s camp before they started.

We have done a complete personal inventory on where we stand after our hiatus from the trail. We’ve lost all of our cardiovascular capacity. We’ve put on almost all the weight we had lost over the first 800 miles of trail. We’ve forgotten how heavy our packs are. On the positive side, we haven’t lost all of our leg strength. We should be back to full trail strength by the time we reach Canada.

Today’s results showed we are not actually starting over from square 1. We doubled the amount of miles we did yesterday. If we can keep doing that for the duration of this year, not only will we complete the PCT, but we’ll be able to walk to Mars and back before Christmas. (This is a math sequence reference that only fellow engineers will understand. It’s also a puzzler for Bunny because she doesn’t understand exponential math at all—barely simple math which I often encourage her to use a calculator to verify her results before saying an answer out loud. Nurses!)

We did have a bit of a scare when we got to the top of the ridge. We heard an air raid siren. This is not the first Tuesday of the month, so we were thinking along the lines of the recent earthquakes down in California and came up with tsunami. When we didn’t see a surge coming up the Columbia River, we decided that it was a water release from the dam.

The temperature stayed between 60 and 65 all day but we were both overheating like mad. We are going to have to sweat out all the toxins we have ingested over the last month. I thought we were eating healthy…hamburgers, French fries, pizza, beer, and ice cream (the same thing we eat when we come to a town while hiking) but our diet turned against us while we weren’t hiking. I do wish we had eaten more curry while off trail so that we would excrete a little insect repellant—the mosquitoes and flies are coming alive in Washington.

The trail is very nearly our own right now. We did happen across a young couple (let’s clarify—a couple in their early 40s. At this point in our life, anyone looking under 50 is young) that we’re out for a day hike. Just recently, I happened to have watched a few of the Star Wars movies, so I decided to employ the Jedi mind trick and get her to offer us the two fresh carrots she was carrying. Since Luke turned coward in the last installment, I am now ready to take his place. No real surprise, Bunny very much enjoyed the carrot I secured for her.

Before we hopped back on the trail at Cascade Locks, I was seriously considering quitting. I just haven’t been enjoying myself the last month and we have been hemorrhaging money along the coast. By the end of yesterday, I had already changed my mind and was happy to be back on the trail. I am disappointed that we probably won’t have enough time to finish the PCT this year and it’s really throwing a wrench in my plans for future hikes. We need to figure out a way to generate some money while hiking so we can continue to hike. If anyone reading this blog knows Jeff Bezos ex-wife, please refer our blog to her. We heard she is going to give away half of the 38 billion dollars she got from the divorce. She wouldn’t even miss the couple hundred thousand we need to carry on.

As we were approaching the campsite we had targeted this morning, we smelled smoke. Part of the reason we decided to get back on in Washington was to try to make it through before the height of fire season, but we could tell this was just a little camp fire. We’re not worried about forrest fires since it’s been drizzling most of the day. What we were worried about is having to walk an extra mile to the next camping spot with water. Even though we hadn’t seen any other hikers today, we encountered 3 people already set up before the creek. Fortunately, there was one site left on the north side so we are set for the night.

As we were setting up camp, it started to rain once again. Since we had stopped for 3 snacks along the way today, we weren’t really all that hungry. In the end, we just decided to skip supper and have another snack of avocado, Fritos, protein bars, and hot licorice tea. I heard a collective groan at licorice tea. Everyone I’ve ever gotten to try it likes it. There’s still a full box sitting in my niece’s house in Chicago. She’s the second pickiest eater on the planet (just behind her older sister). Neither one of them, as kids, would ever eat anything other than grilled cheese sandwiches when they went out to a restaurant. I came home from college one time and offered to take them out. They both said they eat Mexican now. I was excited until they both ordered cheese quesadillas.

EFG

After a 39 day hiatus from the PCT, I was finally able to convince Bunny that the days of hotel living and eating out every meal have to come to an end. It was a struggle. I was forced to point out that if we didn’t leave soon, we’d be right back in the snow in Washington.

During our time away from the trail, we did hitch/hike the Oregon Coast Trail. Maybe sometime in the future, I will complete my blog entries for that “trail.” The Oregon coast is beautiful and rugged, but there isn’t really a trail to hike. By Oregon State Parks own admission, over 40% of the trail is on Route 101 and another 15% is on secondary or abandoned road beds. It’s a whole lot of road walking. We fell into the trap of listening to the armchair hikers on Facebook and didn’t do our homework. I wouldn’t recommend the trail for a true backcountry hiking experience. Something else we did wrong was hiking from south to north. The prevailing winds are from the northwest this time of year so we were always walking into the wind. Our objective was to kill time to let snow melt on the PCT, see more of Oregon than we would normally get to (it is one of our 8 finalist states for where we will settle after we get done hiking), and end up in Portland so we could catch a plane to Georgia for our son’s graduation from Basic Training at Fort Benning.

Sam makes a striking soldier. He didn’t get as much free time as we had hoped for considering his graduation was over the 4th of July holiday. After his “turning blue” ceremony where he was awarded his infantry ribbon, we got to go eat with several of his friends at a restaurant of their choice. They chose Cracker Barrel. You can tell the army has aged them all if that’s their first choice. Even though their physical ages are only 21, mentally they have aged into their 80s. Afterwards, we all went to a movie. I felt very secure sitting through a horror movie with 4 newly minted army killing machines sleeping around us. The movie was Toy Story 4 which helped reduce the average age of the group back down to 30ish from the aforementioned 80s. The time with Sam went way too fast. Now he’s getting prepared for Ranger Selection while we return to the PCT via Portland.

We really wanted to like Portland. It has a lot to offer: great food, pleasant climate, a great public transportation system, a burgeoning music scene, and a liberal, friendly citizenry. But what killed it for us was the huge amount of litter and homeless people. The city has opened its arms wide to the homeless and let them camp, unharassed, anywhere in the city limits. The only city I’ve seen with more people sleeping in the streets is Paris, but they had the huge influx of Syrian refugees into the EU to contend with. I never felt in danger (in either Paris or Portland) but the situation definitely shows the need for more mental health assistance. Perhaps there are a huge number of iPhones with Bluetooth earbuds among the homeless, but it sure seemed like a lot of people were carrying conversations with themselves and swinging at a lot of bugs around them in the process.

Last year when we thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail (we’ve been away from the trail for a while, but the rules haven’t changed—everybody drink), we hiked a third of the trail with Bear and Sassy. Bear was a retired NASA engineer/administrator so he always had 2 or 3 contingency plans for everything we did on the trail. I let him do all the planning (it’s his happy spot). However, I was heavily influenced by him and look into more contingency planning for myself. It’s good to know Portland is welcoming to homeless people. If/when Bunny gets tired of me and takes me for every penny I have, I’ll still have a place to live as long as I get to keep a freestanding tent and my Southwest airline miles to get back out there. I’m going with that as my third level contingency. I’m leaving the door open to former friends letting me have some garage or basement space as second level. First is still the lottery. Knowing that, everyone reading this has plenty of time to develop excuses as to why I can’t sleep on the dog’s couch in the basement.

It was a breeze getting out to Cascade Locks from Portland. As I said, Oregon has great public transportation. I had gone grocery shopping yesterday to allow Bunny some alone time on a king sized bed to soak in the memory. We hadn’t done any food preparation or packing until this morning, or even bothered to figure out the route out. We didn’t get up until 8, but we were eating one last town meal in Cascade Locks at noon.

We knew we had lost some conditioning during these past 5+ weeks. What we didn’t realize was that we had lost it all. We still managed a 2 mph pace today, but it was, pretty much, level walking. The Columbia River is the low point of the PCT. Cascade Locks was the low point of our trail fitness…a perfect storm is brewing.

We got back on at the Bridge of the Gods. Honestly, it was a bit disappointing considering the name. This is not a bridge worthy of Zeus or Thor. “Bridge of Lessor Saints” might be a more appropriate name. St Ruben, patron saint of lost causes and corned beef would be honored by such a bridge. Oregon, in keeping with its high regard for hikers and road walking, does not actually have sidewalks or space for pedestrians on the BOG. They do recommend facing traffic while on the bridge so that you might remember the license plate number of the vehicle that runs you down in the unlikely event you survive.

A name from my past came to mind as we were crossing—Bob Lowe. I have never seen anyone more afraid of heights than he is. I remember walking up on open deck catwalks and Bobby having excessive anxiety. The Bridge of the Gods is an open deck bridge. Even I freaked out a bit if I looked straight down while walking. If we were to get run over, we would be converted to meat fries suitable for deep frying if the slices could be retrieved before the river washed us out to sea.

As we were leaving town, I noticed Bunny eyeing the farm-fresh fruit stands. The next stand we passed had a paying customer finishing up, but the woman behind the stand asked us to stop and talk. She told us she’s a part time trail angel and gave us a quart of fresh, juicy, organic cherries to take with us. We were caught off guard not expecting to run into any magic (by definition, magic is unexpected, so attribute it to brain farts then) and we forgot her name. We had about half of the cherries for supper tonight, and they were fantastic.

We were to our camp by 4:30. Not bad considering we didn’t start hiking until after 1. Instead of worrying about miles, we’re going to slowly ramp up our hiking time. By the end of the week, we should be up to 6 hour days assuming I’m able to wake Bunny up in the mornings. She’s grown accustomed to 12 hour nights. Being the good husband, I stay right there beside her always ready with a Benadryl and a glass of water. I would be remiss in my account of the day if I didn’t mention that we were in our tent, ready for bed right after 6. The sun doesn’t set until after 9.

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We got into town and checked the NASA satellite maps of the snow pack on the trail and it confirmed what we had heard on the trail—heading north from Dunsmuir would be in heavy snow and would require mountaineering skills to successfully pass. No one had broken Trail from Dunsmuir to Etna yet.

One of our trail friends had jumped up to Ashland with the intention of coming sobo. We texted him and he told us there had been fresh snow in OR and he didn’t want to go in either direction. When we had checked a couple weeks ago, there had been about 70 miles north of Ashland that wasn’t buried, but now that was down to 20 miles. We have nowhere left to go.

The PCT is a great trail, but we don’t enjoy walking in the snow. We can do, but we don’t like it. Plus, we can potentially get into dangerous positions (like on the back side of Grizzly Peak) where a misstep can lead to serious injury or death. It’s just not worth it.

When I woke up this morning, Bunny had made coffee and gave me a cup in bed. Let me repeat, Bunny made coffee and served it to me in bed. I knew shit was about to hit the fan. I figured she had done some research and discovered I was dying of cancer. Whatever it was, I knew I was facing a major life change. Bunny told me she didn’t want to push on anywhere on the PCT. she wasn’t going to hike on any more snow. She wanted off trail for at least a month.

We talked to both of our families to let them know the situation. It finally came to us, instead of going home, why not stay out here and hike the Oregon Coast Trail. That would give us beautiful scenery without snow, keep our legs used to hiking, allow us to get rid of our heavy winter gear, and, most importantly, keep us outside. All we had to do was figure out how to get to the coast.

Last year, on the AT, we had met Pit Boss and Play By Play, a father/son pair of hikers from this area of California. We had been in touch with them already and were planning on spending time with 5h3m when we got to Mount Shasta. Pit Boss offered to give us a ride up to Medford, OR where we could catch a bus for the coast. This made our plan fall into place. We couldn’t find an economical way to make it to Medford.

We made plans to spend time with Spence and his girlfriend, Katie, and they would take us north. It turns out that Katie also hiked the AT last year. Somehow, we hadn’t met her, but we knew all the same people and everyone we were hiking with knew Inside Out. We were familiar with her name from trail registers, but never managed to met, often times just missing each other by a few minutes. While we were with them, Mizman texted us to tell us he had already seen a moose in VT on his first day on the trail. He remembered Katie well and said I.

It’s been a few days since all this went down and we are now sitting in Brookings, OR on the Pacific Coast getting ready to start hiking north. The plan is to spend the month of June hiking the Oregon Coast Trail (OCT). When we make it to Portland, we will fly home for our son’s graduation from Army basic training and spend a couple days with him before flying back. Then, we will get back on the PCT at the Bridge of the Gods and hike to Canada where our camigo, Pete, will pick us up and we’ll get to catch up with him. He’s hiking the Portuguese Camino as I write this. With luck and timing, we will make it back to Cascade Locks (Bridge of the Gods) in time for trail days. After trail days, we’ll hike sobo across Oregon back to Mount Shasta where we’ll get to see Pit Boss, Inside Out, and Play By Play. If it’s not too late in the year, we will head down to Walker Pass and hike north with the intention of finishing up in Old Station an$ visit Georgi.

It’s a plan. It probably won’t work that way since plans never do, but it’s a starting point and something to shoot for. Better to shoot for something than be shot at. We no longer have to worry about snow, just tsunamis.

EFG

Nothing bothered our food or garbage last night. It was a peaceful night and great sleeping. The alarm went off at 6:30. The good husband got up and made coffee for his bride who didn’t move a muscle while breakfast was being prepared. This is not unusual at all. I placed her hot drink and cold breakfast by her head and cuddled with my hot coffee until she decided she was ready to rise. I fell back asleep in no time, but I knew Bunny wanted to make it to town today (which is over 19 miles) so she wouldn’t let me sleep long.

Two hours later Bunny woke me up to complain about her cold drink. There is no warranty for spousal negligence, take it or leave it. We still managed to get ready and make our new ten before ten trail start. We missed the deer hanging around as we packed up trying to suckle fresh warm urine straight from the source.

Since we’ve gotten out of the snow, the trail has been exactly what we expected the PCT to be—a beautiful, verdant trail winding amongst majestic trees. The Ponderosa Pines are incredible. It actually hurts your neck to try to look up to the tops of the trees you are passing. This was the type of hiking day we have been dreaming of yet the type of day that is just boring to try to describe in a blog.

With our late start, we didn’t pay enough attention to the map before we took off to plan our day. We crossed the Squaw Valley Creek after just 4 miles where we ran into a few locals out for day hikes. If we had checked our maps, we would have seen we didn’t have another water source for over 8 miles. We’ve gotten spoiled with the fresh melt streams popping up everywhere and just expected them to continue. That wasn’t the case for us today. Since we didn’t check, we left the creek without getting water.

We stopped at our high point for the day, in another 4 miles for a water break. Since we only had peanut butter and chia to eat, we forwent eating until we could be by a nice flowing stream to lubricate the PB&J. While hiking on to the next water source, we met a group of 5 sobos. We asked where they had started hoping to get information on the next section of trail after Mount Shasta. Boy, did we get way more information than we wanted.

This group had jumped up to Ashland, OR after hiking about 100 miles of the Sierra. They managed to make it all the way to Etna, CA before they bailed. They actually hiked in the mountains and broke trail. They all had crampons and ice axes along with lots of snow experience. They recommended not entering the trinity alps for at least a month. They showed us their pictures to back up what they were saying and it made our stomachaches sink.

The sky was starting to get dark, so we decided we’d push on into town rather than spend another night out. Bunny, although rodent in nature, did not have a hankering for another two meals of chia and convinced me we could have pizza if we pushed on. I only agreed to go if she let me order the pizza so it would only have proper ingredients like god meant pizza to have—only pig meat and proper veggies and none of this chicken parts and BBQ sauce.

As soon as we hit the road by the interstate, it started drizzling. I was afraid to continue up the ramp to try to hitch because I thought this was illegal. Bunny, reverting to her alter ego of Bonnie, talked me into violating the law once again. I was having flashbacks to her European crime spree and kleptomania. I’m an innocent bystander caught in her web. Fortunately, as soon as we got to the top of the ramp, a nice Swiss skier stopped and offered us a ride. He could clearly see I was terrified of my wife and offered me sanctuary.

Martin drove us to our hotel of choice in Mount Shasta. We checked in, dropped our packs, changed our shoes and socks before heading across the street for pizza and salad. They were kind enough to place us in a dark corner before wheeling cart after cart of food out to us. We managed to scare the waitress to the point that she was unwilling to reach in front of either of us for fear of getting bitten. Our chia famine has ended without major incident.

EFG

I give up. It rained all night. I woke up at 2:30 and had to pee really bad, but I didn’t want to go out in the downpour. I tossed and turned, falling asleep intermittently only to be woken up by a water dream (my subconscious signal to wake up if I have a dream with any sort of water in it—it beats wetting the bed) or from falling off the back of Grizzly Peak. I kicked wildly while falling at least 3 different times. Finally, at 5:30, the full bladder won out and I decided to brave the rain.

Only, it wasn’t rain. It was snow! May 26 in sunny California, it’s snowing. I went back in the tent and shut off the alarm. I’m guessing, the night crew in my kidney factory had gotten time off to play cards while they waited for the bladder to get emptied. Once that was accomplished, they could return to work. It’s a holiday weekend at the end of the month and they get paid piecemeal. They hurried up to make their monthly quota in time to enjoy the holiday weekend. In other words, by 7:30, even though the alarm was off, I had to get up to go again.

The snow was melting some. It was just a dusting, but I worried about the people at higher elevation. In particular, Tom who passed us yesterday and didn’t have spikes. If we got a dusting at 3400’ they had to get several inches at 5500’. That would be enough to cover the tracks in the snow making everyone up there have to break their own trail. I hope he’s ok.

The deer were still hanging around our tent eager to eat whatever pee we could spare. They came right up to the tent. I thought they wanted to drink straight from the source, but they backed away each time I got up. They accepted my contributions, but craved Bunny’s. The minute she emerged, the gang all gathered, watched, and waited until she cleared the area.

We had planned to get an early start, but Bunny had put her foot down that she was not walking on anymore snow. By 9:30, most of it had melted and the mistress of the trail agreed to emerge. The original goal was to get in 19 miles today so we’d only have 15 to get to the road for Mount Shasta. Now, we have 19 for tomorrow which will put us in too late to catch a bus or hitch leaving us with the only option of spending another night on the trail. No problem, at least we’ll save some hotel money. Problem, we took a day longer than planned getting from Peavine Creek past Grizzly Peak…we ate our extra day’s food. If we don’t make it to town tomorrow, we will be eating chia pudding 3 of the next 4 meals. Good husband that I am, I’m trying to come up with chia variants for supper tomorrow night. No waiting for the last minute for me.

There were no Americans to be found on the trail today. We met one French couple heading up to Grizzly as we were coming down. We shared our knowledge of what’s ahead for them. We also leapfrogged with a trio from Israel. They passed us as we were getting ready (and scaring our pee-licking deer away). We passed them as they were drying their tents in a parking lot. And then they passed us while we were drying our tent next to a privy. The privy odor enhances Bunny fart residue in the tent. Other than those few encounters, we saw no one else today.

After we nearly got our tent dry by the privy, it started raining. It rained on us for the next 10 miles of trail. Some times it let up enough that we got heated up to the point that we had to stop and take our rain coats off. Then, Mother Nature, seeing that we were comfortable, increased the drizzle rate. We spent the whole day dropping our packs and changing clothes.

As we neared our camping spot, the rain stopped so we could set up camp, eat, and go to bed in the comfort of cloudy skies in the low 50s/upper 40s. I don’t believe it ever gets warm in California. We’ve been out here 3 months already and have only seen it above 80 twice.

I made my first half-hearted attempt at hanging a bear bag tonight. Two things caused me to do this: 1) a f#$ing mouse ate through the bottom of our $700 tent last night to get into our garbage, and 2) there were comments in Guthook about a bear hanging out in this area running hikers off the trail. I hung the bag “Mizman style” tonight. Last year the second night we stayed with Mizman, he asked me to look at his bear bag hang and give him my thoughts. It was so low to the ground I couldn’t walk under it. A dying bear on his back could get the sustenance he needed without even doing a sit-up.

Mizman is getting ready to head back out on the AT right now. I always liked hanging my bag near his. You don’t have to be the fastest to avoid being eaten by a bear, just don’t be the slowest. The same goes for bear bag hangs. I put my food at 7’ and our garbage at 5’.

EFG

This was the scariest day of my life. To put this in perspective, I’ve been married twice, encountered a bear less than 10’ away from me in a trail, almost stepped on a rattlesnake, and even told my father (when I was 6) to shut up and leave me alone (neither of which he did). In other words, I know fear. Today topped my list.

Bunny had conscientiously set an alarm for 6:30 to wake me up so I could prepare her breakfast in bed (biscuits and gravy from scratch—her favorite). Everything was ready and I was about to wake her up when I heard voices OUTSIDE the cabin. I had been hearing voices inside the cabin all night, but these were more than the inhuman ghost voices we had been hearing. I’m pretty sure the cabin was possessed and haunted, but that comes with the territory when you squat in the backwoods. As soon as we turned out the lights last night, we heard scurrying above and below us. That’s not quite accurate, we went to bed around 7 so we didn’t have to turn out any lights. It’s better to say when the sun went down, the cabin came alive. But that’s not what scared me.

The voices outside turned out to be two nobo thru-hikers that jumped up to Chester a couple weeks ago. They had been over Lassen and said it wasn’t as bad as the snow we have been pushing through the last couple of days. Then they asked us what our plans were for when we make it to Dunsmuir because the section after that (which I have been slightly concerned about) is much worse than what we have been going through. It will be 130 miles of snow and not just 20 ,which has been kicking our ass. But that’s not what scared me.

After they left, we decided we should get moving while the snow was still firm and crisp so our microspikes would grab firmly in. They had told us they were going to try to get back on trail, but if they didn’t see a broken path, they were going to follow the “road” over Grizzly Peak because they knew that route had been broken. As we neared the intersection of the road and trail, we met two more sobos who told us they had just come over Grizzly Mountain and we were just about out of the snow. One of the hikers had actually hiked over a hundred miles in the Sierra before he got scared and decided to jump to Dunsmuir because of another storm, and head south. He told us he had post-holed near a boulder and dropped 30’. He had been shook up and weak-kneed for a couple of days before he decided to jump. This confirmed our decision to jump past the Sierra. But that’s not what scared me.

We got to the intersection with the trail and didn’t see any signs of anyone having broken trail through the snow. We saw four sets of fresh tracks coming down, and going up the road, so we decided to take the road. Less than a quarter mile up the road, we looked down and saw clear trail below us, but like idiots, we decided to follow the lead of everyone we had encountered today. It was over 2 miles of walking on snow that was a minimum of 6’ deep, and nearing the top, almost 30’ deep. But that’s not what scared me.

As we got near the peak, we saw a couple of hikers ahead of us yelling and waving. We thought they were coming down towards us, but we didn’t encounter them on the trail. Bunny looked up and asked if we had to go up that. I said I thought that was a side trail to the peak. We kept climbing and were rewarded with beautiful full frontal views of Mt Shasta (the volcano, not to be confused with the town, Mount Shasta). It got really steep with sharp drop offs the higher we got. Trash Can, Store Brand, and Birthday Girl had told us there was one “sketchy” section near the top. In my mind, if was the 40’ section of snow that had about that much of a drop down into a tree-well. I was very nervous crossing it. Bunny cried when she got across it, but I assured her that was the worst thing we’d have to do today. But that’s not what scared me.

We were almost to the top. Bunny wanted me to slow down a little so we could stay together. I saw two trails in the snow. One turned to the left and headed towards the peak. The other continued straight across the back face of the mountain. It looked like there were solid steps cut into the snow across the back face, so that’s the path we took. As we progressed, the angle of the snow went from 45 degrees, to 60 degrees, to 70 degrees. It felt like I was walking along a vertical wall of snow. I wasn’t very far ahead of Bunny, but far enough that I could see the end of the tracks and tomorrow’s headline…”Another 2 PCT Hikers Have Gone Missing on Grizzly Mountain”. That’s what scared me.

I turned around and wanted to cry, but Bunny had already beaten me to the tears. She said she wanted to go back not even noticing that I had already turned around. We have an unwritten agreement in our marriage contract, when one of us goes to pieces, the other must remain strong. I had beaten her to hysteria two days ago and she beat me by just a few seconds today. It wasn’t fair. I wanted to crumble and cry. I’d read tomorrow’s headline but now I had to be the strong one. We were in deep shit. I, Easily Forgotten, had to be the strong one. Not only did we have to both get turned around on a 60 degree slope, but we’d have to go back through the other sketchy section that had already scared us both. It was a very good thing I had taken the time to dig a hole this morning because every muscle in me convulsed at the thought of going back. We are going to die. I was, literally, scared shitless.

Back at the junction of the trails, I tried to talk Bunny into checking out the other trail that lead up to the summit. She wanted nothing to do with it. I said I’d go check it out and let her know. I climbed up to the shoulder. When you push the boundaries, your perspective changes. Just 20 minutes ago, I had thought this little trail to the summit looked scary as hell. Now I found myself turning around and yelling to Bunny that it wasn’t bad. We could drop over the snow shelf and walk on the boundary between snow and bush. This is what the other hikers had been trying to communicate to us.

Bunny said she wasn’t going forward. She would only go back or go nowhere. She would not climb up this slightly less frightening snow slope. Since I couldn’t see the other side of the summit, I decided she was right and headed back towards her. I had to be the strong, reasonable one. Dammit. We still had several steep sections to cross back over. Bunny was near paralyzed by this point knowing what she had been through to make it this far. I had to talk her down the mountain. When we dropped into one tree-well, the only way in was to slide because it was so steep. Bunny slid and almost fell, but I caught her.

She wanted to crumble to the ground and cry, but I couldn’t let her. We had several hundred feet more to go including the sketchy sketchy section which I was scared of. The sun was shining and making the surface of the snow soft and slick. We didn’t have long before the snow steps would start sliding down the face when we stepped on them. I went first with Bunny just a step behind. We got to the sketchy section, and my foot slid down the mountain. I fell into the snow uphill and sunk my hiking pole in to stabilize me. I tried to stay calm and told Bunny to choose a different foot placement. I wasn’t able to stand back up until I made it across this section. Bunny did much better than me getting back.

We were back through the worst of it and on to a solid snow base. It had taken us almost 3 hours to make it to the top. Like Moses, we were turned back with our destination (the power lines on the other side of the mountain) in our sight, forever to be denied. We made it back down to the trail/road intersection in less than a half hour. We were adrenaline hyped.

As soon as we saw clear trail below the road, we dropped down to it. Only the entrance to the trail had been snowed in. The trail was almost completely dry. In fact, there were some fresh sobo prints in a snow section on the trail. If this trail had proven too bad, we would have had to turn around and go all the way back to Burney.

We stopped for a drink and snack trying to calm down. The presence of other hikers is always reassuring. That’s one thing we’ve been missing on the PCT compared to the AT last year. We were never alone on the AT. It feels like we’re always alone on the PCT. Even when we were a part of a tramily this year, we couldn’t keep the pace and only saw the other members at night; usually after they were already in their tents from the cold. If there’s other people around, there’s a chance for help.

The trail turned out to be nearly clear of all snow except for about 1/4 mile on either end which had apparently been enough to turn almost everyone back. Just as we neared the exit point of the trail, we stopped for another drink. Unfortunately, nonalcoholic in nature. Another sobo came up to us and chatted for a while. This turned out to be the last person we saw the rest of the day. Tom was even older than us and out doing a section hike from Dunsmuir to Sierra City. He asked what the trail was like, so we told him. Tom didn’t have any microspikes with him. We tried warning him off but pointed out that we are very cautious. He decided to continue on.

The power lines were finally above us. We had been told once we made them, we were out of the snow except for a few scattered patches over the next half mile. We took off our spikes and easily got across the remaining snow. The rest of the trail was clear and wooded like we had dreamed the PCT would be. We had planned on going to Ash Camp 4 miles further on, but we had done 4 miles of extra snow walking this morning which wore us out.

We found a camping spot close to a creek with 4 resident deer to keep us company the rest of the evening. They didn’t appear to be too spooked by us as long as we didn’t stand. They investigated everything we did. When we brushed our teeth, they ate the dirt. When we scattered the water from our supper, they ate the dirt. If we peed, they ate the dirt. After we saw them eat our pee, their cuteness appeal went down a bit in my book. I did notice they preferred Bunny’s pee over mine convincing me further that Bunny doesn’t drink enough during the day.

The snow we’ve encountered over the last 3 days was beyond our comfort zone. When we get into town, we will have to decide what we are going to do next. It’s obvious that there is too much snow to make it to Oregon any time soon. We might get snow shoes and try to hook up with another group heading north, but we don’t want to break trail or be out alone. I’m beginning to think we are not going to successfully thru-hike the PCT this year. The weather just sucks. For now, we are out of the snow and I’m not giving up yet.

EFG

The night turned out much better than I thought it would. The last time we had set our tent up without using stakes, we had winds so bad (natural ones, not Bunny winds) that our tent kept blowing down. Last night, I used a lot more rocks and even tied off a few lines to some manzanita bushes. The weather was very kind to us with just slight breezes and no rain (we had a fairly high percentage chance). It also helped that Bunny drug me heavily to calm me down. She pumped me full of Benadryl and Ativan. I slept like a baby. I’ll forgo the cliche of crying all night and wetting the bed, that’s Bunny’s department.

Bunny claims that she woke up at 6:20 but didn’t want to disturb me by making breakfast. She’s so thoughtful to wait for me to do the cooking. I tried her role and pretended to be asleep even though we were in full sun and the tent was heating up. By 8, I couldn’t play dead any longer. I had managed to go all night without peeing, but morning calls. I had melted a full pot of water last night while boiling water for the bottles. I got back in the tent and performed my husbandly duties.

There wasn’t any pretending, we put on our microspikes first thing. According to “mapsme” we have less than 5 miles to make it to the cabin today, but I think that’s a crows flight. We were very lucky to find these clear rocks yesterday. A big problem for us in deep snow is that our Z-packs tent is not freestanding (another reason we decided to skip the Sierra for now).

I got a big feeling of relief when we ran across another sobo hiker today. Sodi was hiking with Birthday Girl whom we met Wednesday evening. He knows he’s 2 days behind them. Sodi didn’t seem to mind the snow at all and even seemed to be enjoying it. We noticed he wasn’t wearing spikes, either. At our age and under these conditions, I’d like to have a better, 4 season tent and probably even snow shoes.

Our pace is drastically reduced with all the snow. If we’re going uphill, we only average about 3/4 mph. Downhill, we can get up to 1.5 mph if I can get Bunny to not try to stop every step and taking her forward momentum to zero. I tried, unsuccessfully, to get her to jump/slide down the shorter hills to get a feel for it. She ended up glissading on her ass so that was the end of any chance of her listening to me anymore.

The snow is easily 8’ deep on the mountain. Our comfort range is in the 2-6” range. To say that we are out of our comfort zone is a bit of an under statement. We did hear from Wolf, Blues Clues, and Daniel over night (we had halfway decent signal). They were checking on trail conditions and caught us at a bad time. Yesterday was zero fun for me between continually losing the trail, post-holing, falling, and panicking.

For the first time in 3 years, I really considered quitting. Bunny calmed me down until she started falling and post-holing today and then she switched to “I’m never hiking in the snow again.” Truth of the matter is that we have slightly overextended our comfort zones, but we are adjusting. When we make it to Mount Shasta, we’ll take a couple days off, pick up some snow shoes, and wait for more people to catch up with us so we don’t feel so alone on the trail.

Following the tracks wasn’t a problem at all today. It was overcast, but not terribly cold. We considered continuing on past the cabin to try and drop below the snow on the other side of the mountain. I didn’t want to waste fuel melting more snow to drink, so we kept walking until we found a good melt stream. We stopped for a late lunch and drank 3 liters of water between the two of us. Walking on the snow requires so much more energy and we really sweat out a lot. We were both slightly dehydrated which you don’t think of in cold conditions.

We were still almost a mile to the cabin and Bunny said she just wanted to stay at the cabin tonight rather than continue on. It had taken us almost 6 hours to cover the 7 miles to the cabin. I tried to gently convince her to continue on so she’d realize it was a concession from me to stay an extra night up here. I had to let her know how agreeable of a husband she has. She’s a lucky Bunny.

The final mile to the cabin took us longer because I insisted we carry enough water to make it through the night and get fully rehydrated. I was really bummed when I saw a stream flowing right beside the cabin. We had carried 7 liters of water between us for no real reason. Better safe than sorry. I don’t want to run out of fuel melting snow. I’d rather run out of fuel boiling water for hot water bottles.

If I were paying $100/night for a cabin, I’d be pissed with this dump, it’s 3 rooms with the third room having a caved in ceiling. That would have been the bathroom. The middle room looks like something out of chainsaw massacre. Who knows who or what is hiding in there. The first room is halfway livable as long as you stay away from what used to be a kitchen area. I refuse to open the refrigerator after just having watched a forensic files on Jeffrey Dahmer.

But we didn’t spend a penny for this place so we are in heaven. We have a dry, enclosed place to sleep in. We can hang our packs and food from the rafters so the mice can’t get to anything. There’s even a half door on the porch at the top of some rickety stairs. The combination of the two should give us notice if a bear tries to come in. We’ve seen lots of bear tracks the last few days. It’s a little disturbing to follow the tracks of hikers in front of us when a bear has clearly been walking in their footsteps. Do bears stalk people? I’ll bet Bunny doesn’t give me an Ativan tonight.

EFG