Day 33, Saturday, August 1. Christi’s Spring, TM 868.2—(15.8 miles)

Hear ye, hear ye, it’s August 1, a day of celebration! All mosquitoes must report for voluntary extermination. Any not reporting shall be pursued and destroyed by governmental agents aka “Logan’s Run.” Why in the hell did 30 of the little bloodsuckers decide that hiding in our vestibule was a safe place? Did they not get the memo to report? I performed my patriotic duty and killed all I could, but they had more replacements in reserve. Something is very wrong here. 

This morning’s climb

We did sleep in to allow old people recovery time. Bear didn’t want to, but I interceded on behalf of Bunny and Sassy to petition for additional sleep time and had my partition approved (after Sassy reminded Bear of the glasses incident in Bend…kiss a zero goodbye for any time soon, but we got to sleep an extra half hour today). I could have gotten up normal time like Bear wanted to, but I’m just a pawn of all other parties on the trail. 

The mountains seem to go on forever
Between Bunny’s bright colors and the wildflowers, we always have hummingbirds around us

Today’s mileage was also pushed by water, or lack there of. We’ve got just one opportunity for water, but it requires nearly a half mile of walking down a steep side trail to get it. After the discussion of net vs gross miles, no one was willing to put in the additional effort just to get a few liters of water to keep us all alive, so we decided to push past the water and carry all we needed from the get go. Here’s further proof the women don’t look at Guthook, because the first 3 miles were all uphill over Devil’s Peak. 

Bear a switchback ahead of Bunny

We met Break Point at the saddle near the peak. He and his wife quit their corporate jobs and moved to WA a couple years ago. They both worked in the aerospace industry and are much happier as a result of quitting. Sounds familiar to someone else I am close to. One big difference is that they lived in California and cashed out in a strong market and probably had good savings. We still invest in the lottery. 

We met Break Point at the top of our climb

We were all dragging getting through the first climb even though less than 1000’ over 2.5 miles. Even Bear was a bit sluggish. It has been 11 days of hiking without a day off and we are all old. Most people may not be aware of the fact that I am the youngest member of this geriatric party, but, I’ll also admit to being tired (of watching my companions deteriorate before my eyes). We need a day off…soon.

A memorial view built for an active volunteer
The view…

We met one very positive female hiker while we were descending Devil’s Peak…Pit Stop. She had started in Acton on June 1 when she hurriedly decided she was going to hike the PCT. She is a nurse who found herself unemployed with the option of taking work in NY state. She decided unemployed hiking was better than employed and dying, so the PCT is her new temporary home. She told us the trail ahead was dusty with lots of loose stone and tree falls across the trail. We told her to expect the same along with lots of burn areas, lava field crossings, mosquitoes, and raging serial killers stalking at all the road crossings. Everyone wants to believe what they’ve experienced is way worse than what’s ahead. Pit Stop over played her doom and gloom. We didn’t. (Serial killers are lurking everywhere).

Lots of shale to cross

One thing was right that Pit Stop told us, we did pass through another large burn area. It was the usual depressing, hot, and dusty. No matter how clean we try to be, every orifice, crack, and crevice gets filled with fine dust. If the dust were flesh colored, it might not be that noticeable. I tend to wear dark clothes to help disguise the dirt, but then there’s the issue of salt stains on the clothes. Bear and Sassy both wear orange shirts. Between the salt and dust, Bear looks like he has the outlines of the seven continents circling his abdomen in white with black highlights. 

Bunny admiring the view

We got to the spring about 6. There was already a solo female hiker named Igor set up when we arrived. As soon as we walked into camp, she asked if we were out for the weekend. Just like that, she was dead to me. Why does everyone assume we are incapable of thru-hiking? Could it be because we’re not capable or is it because we’re old or because we believe in hygiene. Whatever the reason, we set up our tents, cleaned off below the spring (a trait of hygienic, older hikers), and ate supper outside. Enough mosquitoes had actually reported for renewal to make this evening pleasant. We just ignored the rest of the pests, including Igor. 

Forget the young hikers…think of flowers to calm down and fall asleep

EFG