I set an alarm for 6:15 so we’d get a head start on everyone in the morning. Not too long after we went to bed, we heard a couple more hikers come in and set their tents up beside us. I recognized their tents from the night before at the Paradise Cafe. How could they possibly be getting in that late? Granted, it was still light out and not even 6 yet, but it’s only 8 miles. Did they eat all 3 meals at Paradise?
Last night was one of, if not the, coldest night we have had on the PCT yet. I actually broke out my sleeping bag liner and used my raincoat to bundle up my feet. Both helped keep me warm, but Bunny was not a happy camper. I had to place her butt pad under her hips in the middle of the night. (At least it was dark when I did this so it could have been anywhere between 7p and 6a.) On the bright side, I hadn’t drank much yesterday so I was slightly dehydrated which meant I only had to get up to pee once all night.
In spite of her shoddy job of packing the tent yesterday, I still made my lovely bride breakfast in bed. This has become a morning ritual for us which will fall by the wayside once we enter bear country. I’ll let her enjoy it while it lasts. Even with our early start, Wolf as out of camp more than a half hour ahead of us before we even emerged from the tent. We were out moving in time to see Ivy head out. But Kevin, he was moving slow. His stuff was spread out everywhere. We beat him out of camp before he even started loading up his pack.
Ten minutes down the trail, we were making the second stop in our 5 minute morning break routine when Kevin passed us up like we were standing still (which we were—I think this was the “I’m too hot” stop). Kevin went ahead of us and waited at the next switchback. We thought he might be waiting for us. He was in a way. He was waiting to catch a candid shot of the old folk wheezing as they rounded the turn, then he was a dot.
About a mile further on, we caught up with Spam, Cougar Bait, Ritz, and Navi just packing up and getting ready to start moving. It was past 8:30. These might be our trail soul brothers. We chatted for a few minutes before we headed on. The last thing we say to people when we leave is “We’ll see you when you pass us. Everyone passes us.” They never did. We’re wondering if we should call the authorities.
Three and a half miles from where we camped last night is a trail junction that leads to a spring. It’s a mile downhill to the spring making for a two mile round trip. We saw Wolf’s, Ivy’s, and Kevin’s packs all sitting below the trail sign. We thought this might be our opportunity to get a few miles ahead so that we might be able to cross the icy section of the trail as a group with them. We left scribbles in the dirt indicating we had continued on. We had less than a liter and a half of water left, but I was hoping for some snow melt or an unknown stream. There’s no way I could walk an extra 2 miles and even hope to finish within a couple hours of everyone.
A mile further, Bunny and I were feeling confident we had some distance between us and the group, so we got cocky and stopped for a drink and a snack. No sooner than we sat down did Kevin pass us talking with another hiker. He looked up and asked “how did you get ahead of me?” The little punk had walked an extra 2 miles yet still expected to stay ahead of us after having left camp after us. I need a transfusion of his blood. Hopefully, he is a sound sleeper. Ivy and Wolf were not too far behind him.
We managed to finish up in time to get ahead of Wolf, but we couldn’t maintain that position in line for long. We had only gone 5 miles compared to everyone else’s 7 miles, yet here we were pulling up the rear once again. The rough area of trail that Bunny and I are afraid of is supposed to be at 11 miles in today. We didn’t want to go through it alone, but at current rates of hiking, they’d have to wait over an hour for us to catch up. We just can’t keep up with these youngin’s (even though Wolf is slightly older than us, the military has used the latest alien technology to give him the gift of youth).
Two miles further, cold and alone in the fog, we came up to a huge patch of icy snow with a steep slide down the mountain if we mis-step. I tried to start across, but got spooked. I turned around and said we need to put on our micro-spikes. As we were trying to put them on, a couple of people from San Diego, out for a day hike came up behind us. She tried to humor us and agreed to put on her spikes. He said he was just going to walk in the dirt above the snow. Bunny looked at the way I had put my spikes on and said one of us had to have put them on wrong. I humored her and turned mine around to match hers. I was slyly trying to build her confidence by intentionally putting my spikes on backwards.
Across this 50’ long section of snow was nothing but dirt. Bunny and I had considered turning back, and probably would have without Brad and Bliss there to give us confidence. We walked with them for the next mile. They were planning on turning down a side trail and heading back to their car, but they decided to hike on with us out of pity for the frail old folk. I’m sure they had a hint of blood in the air and wanted to see if old blood is still red which they were sure to discover if I had to put my spikes on again.
We came to a trail junction and heard voices ahead. The fog lifted long enough for us to see Wolf, Ivy, and Kevin…they had waited for us. I had told Bunny not to be so pessimistic, our friends wouldn’t leave us, but members of the rodent family are not optimists by nature (an owl is going to swoop down and eat me; the cheese is too good to be true, there must be a spring trap; etc). We thanked Brad and Bliss and tried to catch up with the group. They had checked out the trail and saw several people go over the saddle rather than around the back side of the mountain. This is exactly what Bruce Almighty had told us to do. If they hadn’t been waiting for us, it’s hard to tell if we would have taken the right path, though.
Upon getting back on the trail on the other side of the mountain, we started falling behind once again. Bunny and I hadn’t had a break since the morning when everyone passed us after their water trip, and I was beginning to feel each and every one of my 85 years. I was thirsty and needed some calories. Just as I was about to collapse, we came upon a nearly depleted water cache. Wolf left a quart for me which I squirted in some caffeinated mix and downed along with a Gu. Bunny snuck ahead leaving me all alone. I later found out that she claimed she was about to offer me half of her Snickers but she had decided I was mean and ate it all. I have a saint for a wife.
The final 4 miles were just a complete drudge to me. I felt like a zombie. We could see the sun just ahead of us, but every time we about caught up with it, either the trail would change direction away from it or the wind would pick up and blow in a cloud on top of us. I was confident everyone in camp would know of our approach by the preceding clouds.
I insisted upon one more stop less than a mile from camp. I didn’t want everyone to see my 85 year old trail transformation lest they be afraid they might have to call for a rescue. I opened up my snack bag and saw that I had 5 Dove Promises left. I wasn’t going to let Bunny have any in exchange for her generosity with the Snickers, but she did snag one before I could stop her. I had no choice but eat the other 4 in revenge.
As we rounded the the final bend before camp, we found a snow melt stream. I had just given Bunny the news that she wouldn’t have extra water to brush her teeth tonight because we only had enough to make our supper and breakfast, no drinking. Instantly, we were water rich. We stumbled into camp with 5 liters of water. We had been invigorated by the sight of an orange tent in the distance but found a bunch of downed trees in our way.
Wolf had placed his Tyvek down to hold us a place and it was a good thing. There must have been 15 other tents in the area. It was windy and cold. We just set up our tent and crawled inside for the rest of the night. We spread our Tyvek out underneath our pads and flipped it up to help break up the wind a bit. I put on all the clothes I had, cooked supper, and started feeling better. As soon as we were done eating, the wind died down. To our surprise, it turned out to be a very pleasant night. It was barely dark and already someone was snoring. Two Benadryl should take care of this.
EFG