#pct 2017

3 July 2017

First 20 mile day!

Good day. The guys hiked out before me, eager to get to Twin Lake for a swim. I guess they saw a bear doing bear stuff on the way. I felt mostly good hiking, which was a nice change from the typical sufferfest. Eight miles with breaks by 11:15. I'll take it.

I arrived at Twin Lake to find Necktie and Butters waiting for me. Colonel Buck was also there! The hikers we had met yesterday, a German couple and a guy named Nate, joined us. No one had gotten in the lake yet, so I hopped in. Worth it.

(Me. Swimming.)

Nate joined me, and then Necktie. Butters walked in a ways. "It's so cold!" They complained. It was cold, but not so cold that you couldn't swim in it. Dunk your head, adjust. Dedicated swimming. I floated around on my back, looking at the sun. I could get used to this.

"This is what thru hiking is about!" Buck said from the shore. He was right. This was what it was about. The water was cool and refreshing. I could wash off the dirt that caked my legs. 10/10. Would most definitely swim in this lake again.

Next up was a walk through a burn area. The sun was high, but my hair was still wet from the lake. Much helpful. I watched the grasshoppers jump across the trail. Wildflowers had started to bloom, but the trees were all naked and shade was difficult to find. I listened to the Tallest Man on Earth as I walked. And I thought. Lots of good thinking.

(Burn area)

(Last view of Lassen)

We found some shade and hid from the sun for a bit. Then to the next water source. Short break. Six miles to camp, by a nice river. Downhill the entire way. Really this day had been a dream as far as grade was concerned. I busted out six miles in less than two hours. It wasn’t even 7pm when I rolled into camp. And it was a wonderful camp. The river was gushing from snow melt and it made the best white noise. I stuck my swollen feet into the water until I could no longer feel them. This was it. This was thru hiking.

Necktie, Butters, Buck, and I talked about nothing while we ate our sad backpacking meals. Wondered about how much people would pay to stay by this river if there were yurts and a meal provided. Who knew. It was a great spot.

(Necktie, Butters, Buck)

9 July 2017

Took my sweet time getting ready in the morning. Cooked my breakfast. Drank my tea. Chatted with Diggs. Hiked out at 7:30. Here we go.

Butters had waited for my at the water source, so we hiked together. Hike hike. It was hot. Too hot for me. We missed Colonel Buck and Necktie at lunch. So we ate by a little stream in a not very flat spot. I pulled the string cheese out of my pack, "You think these are still good?" Butters examined them, "Yeah, probably. I'd finish them today though." I ate three. My salami tasted weird. Some spice I didn't like. I was already hating my food.

Three miles to a forest service campground which historically had trail magic. I would take trail magic right now. I hated all my food. Ran there in a little over an hour. Necktie and Diggs were still there, the campground was right next to the McCloud river. I toed halfway into the river before I decided it was way too cold and laid in the shade instead.

After a while a woman came up to us and offered us their leftovers. It was Sunday and they wanted to get rid of it before heading back to the bay area. Well ok. Yes we would eat their food. Necktie, Butters, and I were thrilled for this trail magic. There were sauteed vegetables, hummus, spinach dip, izze sodas, corn salsa, fresh vegetables, etc etc. Real food. Real trail magic.

We ate without speaking. The sauteed vegetables were all I wanted in life. We couldn't believe our luck. But then something strange happened. Suddenly I was full. I had been eating quickly, but not that quickly. I stopped for a moment. Then a wave of nausea hit me so hard that I couldn't ignore it. I collected myself and walked calmly to the pit toilet, where I promptly vomited everything I'd ever eaten in my life. Great.

The rest of this day is kind of a blur to me. I took something to stop the nausea but felt really hot. Necktie hiked out after a while. I visited the privy another two times that evening. I couldn't hike out. Butters stayed with me.

The trail angels had left and it was just the two of us at the campground. My brain had turned to mush. "I can't hike out," I told him, "I don't think I can walk to Shasta." We were in the middle of nowhere. There was a parked car at the campground, but we didn't know how long until whomever returned. There was no cell service, so we used Butters satellite phone to text Erin. She used the Google to inform us that we were in the middle of nowhere and that the nearest town was McCloud, ten miles away as the crow flies. She didn't know how long it would take to walk there. Definitely shorter and better grade than the trail, but no idea how long. There was a lake on the way. Water source. Better option than the trail, hands down. Still an uncertain one, however.

12 July 2017

I woke up with condensation all over my quilt. It was cool, not even 60°. Butters was packing up. We went to breakfast and Lazarus met us after a bit. I said goodbye to Butters, who was heading up to climb Shasta, and walked to the grocery store. Topped off my resupply. No string cheese or salami. Ramen for lunch.

I came back to my quilt drying, Necktie had already left and Butters had hitched out. Diggs was around and I chatted with her while I packed and sorted my resupply. Steve pulled up at 9:45. Picked up Lazarus a bit later. Necktie was nowhere to be found, I sent him a text wishing him good luck.

Turned out Steve was going to drop us at the top of the mountain so we didn't have to do the terrible climb out of Shasta. That was totally ok with me. I didn't care. Skip 12 miles to avoid torment my already destroyed psyche couldn't handle? Twist my arm.

We shook Steve's hand and he was gone. Looking at our maps, decided to do 11 miles before a short waterless stretch. It was already 11am. That was fine with me. There were lakes in 11 miles.

We were up on a ridge and I casually walked behind Lazarus. I didn't feel like I had to run like I did when I hiked with Butters and Necktie. The pace was fine, probably 2mph. He stopped on climbs. I was ok with that too. The views were spectacular. We passed two hikers eating lunch, Hazard and Victoria. Met them again at a water source.

A few hikers passed us that Lazarus knew. The Canadians, Conan and Stormback (?). Then a man named John. After a bit I wound up hiking with John on our way to the lakes. There's this thing about thru hikers, it takes no time for a real conversation to occur. I was telling him about my family, he was telling me about his.

The hike was beautiful. The lakes were beautiful. I got in and swam around, watching a nameless bird soar over the water. I wondered if it was an eagle, it was too hard to tell. I camped on a hill with John and we ate dinner together. He was only a bit younger than my parents, but it was probably the most honest conversation I'd had on the trail this year. I told him about what had to happen in order for me to go long distance hiking in the first place. I told him about the conflict in my heart this year. We talked about love and relationships. I told him about hiking with the rat pack last year. He told me the truth about men and what relationships are made of.

4 July 2017

I woke up and saw Buck packing up and knew it was over for me. We had talked about sleeping in, but all I had left was an oatmeal packet, dark chocolate milky way, and Skittles. I was hungry. I wanted real food. So I ate the milky way and packed up.

"I'm going to JJ's," I said to Butters. He said something I could hear over the water and I hiked out. They'd find me.

I raced through the pine down in elevation to Old Station. Realized I was too far down the road from the cafe, and stuck my thumb out. I instantly had a ride. I forgot how easy hitching was when I was alone. "Be safe." My ride told me when he dropped me at JJ's. I appreciated the concern, but whenever I'm alone I always get the "be safe" comment. Sometimes it got old.

JJ's serves burgers for breakfast. Priority number one. Burger with salad and orange juice. My lip had split a few days and and wasn't healing. I would take the minute maid juice if it meant I might heal. Food arrived and I annihilated it. Everything I wanted. Burger cooked right. Vegetables with all their original juices.

(The burger of my dreams.)

I found some shade and waited for the guys to show up. It took them longer than I thought. They immediately guilt tripped me.

"What happened to sleeping in??" "You LEFT us!"

Oh I'm the worst, I know. It was nice having to wait for them instead of the other way around. So they ate breakfast and we debated over nothing. I sipped on a Coke and ate a Snickerdoodle that was practically the size of my hand. Much satisfaction. We charged phones and I pulled out the sign I'd made to hitch.

(Thru hiker art. Sharpie on tyvek.)

The hitch went a lot better than I thought, considering the holiday. It took a bit, but then a couple heading to Burney pulled over and we piled into their car. Kind people. Dropped us at the Rite Aid. I stared at the nail polish, bought a half gallon of chocolate milk, and we walked to the motel.

(Having trouble picking a color…)

Showers, laundry, more food. I made it my goal to stay in bed as much as possible. McDonald’s. It was the 4th and Necktie appeared with these patriotic hats. We wore them at watched Independence Day (“This must be the most American movie”). Griped over the lack of fireworks to be found in this state. Necktie had acquired exactly one sparkler, which someone had thrown to him. We lit it in the parking lot, celebrating America’s defection.

11 July 2017

This was a rough day for me. I couldn't decide what to do. Butters was leaving the trail and Necktie wanted to vortex in Shasta. I'd been missing home terribly. My box had been sent to the wrong city again. A one digit difference in zip code between Mt Shasta, CA and Shasta, CA. Which were very different cities. My resupply was 68 miles away. Perfect.

All of this put me in the worst mood. I'd been oscillating back and forth between being ok with the trail and resenting it. I didn't want to be here. I knew I didn't. But I had a goal. And I'd solo hiked before. Being so sick in the middle of nowhere had scared me. What if I'd been alone? What if the fly fisherman hadn't been there? My mind was being pulled in two different directions.

I made a decision later that afternoon and then my mind calmed down. I would hike out with Lazarus. He was slow enough that I could keep up and Steve would give us a ride the next day. I would top off my resupply in the morning and there was a box waiting for me in Etna. Finally. I really needed new socks.

13 July 2017

I knew when I woke up. I knew it was over. I gave some leukotape to John and he hiked out before me. I passed by Lazarus on my way out. His foot hurt.

I spent this day debating back and forth about going home. It was unpleasant. The vistas were beautiful, but they didn't hold my attention. Every five minutes I was changing my mind. I ate lunch with Victoria and vented my feelings. She had similar ones but said it was harder to just go home, being from Norway. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to come back if she left now.

Maybe I could just hike to Ashland, I told myself. "But why?" My cruel brain would retort. Something broke that morning. Realistically I knew the only thing that would fix it would be getting off trail to clear my mind. I'd been here before. It was embarrassing, having my mind betray me in such a way. For the first time there was no physical reason for me to get off trail, this was all mental.

Regardless I hiked 23.5 miles on this day. I had good conversations with Hazard and Victoria. It wasn't even dark when I finished the day, and there was trail magic at the end. But I knew I wanted to go home. My brain had broken. We were going to camp at hwy 3 and I was going to hitch out in the morning. Instead a woman named Lionheart stopped by, dropping a hiker off at the trail. She was volunteering at Hiker Hut in Etna, she said. Sure she'd give me a ride to the hostel that night, she said. Maybe I just needed to sleep, I thought. But I knew.

We talked casually on the ride back, about long distance hiking and the addiction that it was and being ok with being a section hiker and getting off trail. Lionheart seemed familiar to me. I realized I'd met her in the McDonald's in Mammoth Lakes the summer before. I was there with Barbie, Caveman, Two Meals, Blossom. My brain had been breaking then too. Lionheart had been section hiking, and yes she'd been there then, she remembered. Strange how that works, how tiny the trail can be.

The hostel was small and there was only one other hiker there. I had a bunk to myself. I took a hot shower. I chatted with the other hiker, who was somehow from Battle Creek. Which was actually true. The trail is so strange.