Day 93, Saturday, May 25. TM 1467.0—(10.7 miles)

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