Shelter cove to Big Lake Youth Camp

At one point after leaving Charlton Lake, I hiked through a desolate burned area. The area had been so completely torched that not even dead trees remained. The ash was fine on the trail and you could see the footprints of other hikers superimposed over each other with exquisite detail.

Throughout this hike, my feet follow the steps of others. Am I a leader, or a follower? We all hike the same path but what we take away from it may be completely different. So far, I can say that I have never met so many interesting people. Or maybe I have, but just never had the time or interest to get to know them before. This has been a surprising discovery on the PCT.

Updates

The most recent area I hiked through had a wide variety of different landscapes. The Three Sisters wilderness is extremely beautiful and fascinating with obvious signs of previous volcanic activity. To add to the mystique, the weather was cloudy and misty. In some ways, this was great because much of the trail was exposed, and would have been very hot. On the other hand, it obscured the tops of the peaks so vistas weren’t dramatic. Some sections went through flat plains full of small wildflowers while next to this plain, there was a mesa of volcanic rubble with nothing growing at all.

Obsidian Falls tumbles over boulders of obsidian.

High glacial streams tumble down, their source the snow that is still present even in August. I walked through fields of fragrant lupine.

The misty weather turned to rain. I was extremely proud of my Durston x-dome in the wind and rain. The interior stayed completely dry. 

I had heard of the lava fields from a random stranger and an ice cream shop in Ashland. He had remarked on how challenging it was in the hot sun. I wondered when that would be and this was it. Again, cool and windy. Weather made it a little bit easier but walking over large gravel pieces for several miles made for slow going and was really tough on my feet. Another hiker described it as “hiking on the moon” (I wish we had had the moon’s gravity as well.)

Finally, I arrived at Big Lake Youth Camp. They are very welcoming and have a separate space for PCT hikers to socialize, do some laundry, take a shower, and deal with their resupply. They also offer meals to thru hikers. I am thankful they are so welcoming. I slept next to Big Lake last night. For the first time, my tent was frozen in the morning. Time to switch out to cool weather gear.

Seeing Family

After leaving Big Lake, I hiked to Santiam Pass, where my brother and his family picked me up. We visited Belcamp hot springs and stayed in the town of Sisters. It’s so nice to see family and to have the time to spend with them. I am so grateful that they came to support me.

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I woke up around 6, which is fairly normal. I felt fairly alert so it seemed like a good time to get started. I had about 13 miles to Knapsack Col.  From what I hear from northbounders, it’s either amazing, beautiful, or very difficult and they would not do it again. It sounds like there’s lots of boulders or a boulder field where most likely trekking poles are of no use and you hop from rock to rock for potentially miles. I could see how this could be arduous or frustrating, but to me it sounds like an adventure. On the Appalachian trail during Mahoosuc Notch, some say the hardest mile of the A.T. I put my trekking poles away and hopped boulder to boulder as it started to rain. Ducking  and crawling between giant rocks, scrambling.  I make my way through in 45 minutes for a mile. This is considered a quick speed for Mahoosec Notch.
As I pack my things up I notice the mosquitoes from the night before are gone. I openen my bug netting to start packing my bag as I continue to lounge.
First things first, after getting out of my tent, I head off to dig a cat hole, do my business, and grab my food bag from the tree it was tied up to all night. No issues with animals, thank the Lord. One hiker I met, Matcha, told me that a bear was clawing at her bag one night and she decided to pack up and hike a few more miles by headlamp to get away from the Bear. I pray that never happens to me. After packing my things I make one last stop by the river since  I’m almost out of water.  I mix my coffee/breakfast essentials, take a swig, and I’m good to go. The trail is pretty smooth and follows along a river valley with little ups and downs, some rocks but overall fairly well beaten down.

Flat and smooth

This path is traveled often.  Soon I come across a group of at least 10 that are headed out to summit square top mountain. I catch up to them quickly and finally someone says, “Hey, let’s pull over and let this guy pass.” It’s amazing how quick you are as a thru-hiker and don’t even realize it. The water in the river is an aqua color, must be from the minerals or glacier water. There are several crossings with logs and even a few bridges. What luxury! Trails are often kept up much better when they’re this close to a road. At the start of the river valley, there was a campground that can be reached by road. As I neared I saw many RVs and even heard vehicle traffic. This can be somewhat frustrating, but I also understand what a beautiful place this is and possibly it shouldn’t just be limited to those who can get here by foot. It definitely changes things though when you see a parking lot full of cars and you hear the noise of a motor instead of that of a stream or the wind blowing through the leaves of a tree.

Prayer Walk

As I walk, I pray for those that pop into my mind. Those who are praying for me, supporting me, those who have reached out to me with prayer requests, and whoever the spirit leads me to pray for. I pray for myself as well to be a witness and to be able to know and experience Jesus, as well as for strength for the day and a good mindset.
I drink my last bit of coffee breakfast and continue walking past the stream. The great thing about following water for many miles is that you don’t have to worry when you run out. I know that in a mile or 2, there’ll be more water and for now, I’ll enjoy the lighter pack.  Water weighs about 2 pounds a liter! That’s a lot!

The miles come quick this morning. Mostly flat and in the forest with coolness still surrounding the valley floor. The trees also provide ample shade. I will most likely get to Knapsack Col Junction around noon and be doing the climb in some of the hotter parts of the day. I did not time this out correctly. Hopefully, we’ll get some clouds and possibly wind to help keep myself cool.

The Junction 

I end up arriving to Knapsack Col Junction a little after 11.  13 miles in just over 4 hours! That’s pretty good. I will have plenty of time whether it’s hot or not to get up-and-over the col.

As I start off on the alternate, I’m low on water and luckily find a small stream 1.2 miles. After filtering water and digging through my pack to find the one granola bar that has caffeine in it I set off. I passed some hikers coming down from the col. A group of guys that went over, camped, and came back today.   The trail quickly turns to rocks underneath and then to boulders, with cairns to follow the way. Deciding that my trekking poles are more hindrance than good, I stash them on the side of my bag and continue using hands and feet to scramble up, around, and over boulders. Hopping from rock to rock I ascend.

As I near the top of the first part of the climb a small stream trickles across the trail. The mountains open up to my left and I’m greeted with yellow, purple, blue and red wildflowers. Peeks above loom majestically.

Mountain Beauty 

As I climb higher there’s a small mountain lake. I’m sure it is freezing and with the wind and clouds I’m not even tempted for a swim. I decided to touch the water and confirm its coldness.
The trail flattens out momentarily before dropping down to another Alpine lake. The color is unreal. A Greenish blue.  A stark contrast to its surroundings.  Granite rock marked with blotches of green grass and patches of snow still lingering from the winter.

Soon enough, the trail begins upwards yet again.
As I crest a small knoll, suddenly I hear the sound of rushing water. I look up to the right to see a waterfall, beautiful.

What Trail?

After a time of climbing, the rocks and boulders begin again and I ascend rock hopping for a while. Eventually I check my map to see my progress and find that I am off of the trail. Luckily for me, I can loop around the rock structure  ahead crossing some snow patches that have pink and red bacteria on them. I find my way back to the trail. It gets steep and real windy. Loose rock crumble beneath my feet as I make my way to the top. I take frequent 5 second breaks to catch my breath and also route check my next steps. As I reach the col I realized I’m off trail by a good 40 feet and I’ve climbed higher than I needed to. I also see a northbounder coming up the opposite side.

I stop, take off my pack, and start eating chips.  Coco and I, the northbounder, start talking. He said he tried to follow the line on the map as best as possible and he should have just gone up the valley. He recommends that I just do that. After chatting for 10 or 15 minutes we decide it’s time to continue making miles. We head off in our separate directions, him north and me south. I can see where he came from and that route looks treacherous. I see another one that goes straight down the mountain and I choose that. The route is fine if not steep up until a certain moment where all rocks beneath my feet are loose gravel. My one foot slides as I lean into the mountain. My other foot somewhat sturdy. I ask the Lord for help. I slowly regain footing on semi secure rocks. Other than this brief moment the rest of the way down is good. I didn’t know this but the route I took is the twin glacier route.

I follow a mountain stream/glacier runoff. There’s a large snowfield that probably will never melt this summer.

Low Lands

As the trail gradually descends, the wind picks up.  I spy several lakes in the distance. The trail will continue to follow alongside these lakes all the way back to the red line of the CDT. There are about 6 or 7 I think. I pass several tents set up with no people in sight. It’s very windy and I don’t think I could pitch my tent here even if I wanted to.

I continue on past the lakes and eventually come to a group of about 6 guys hiking up the mountain. Another hiker comes up with a pack on and ask me about Knapsack Col.  He’s a friend of Coco and said he’s just slow. As I think more about how far away town is I debate on stopping early. The thought becomes more and more appealing. As I pass a stream I walk my way up it and  talk to a day hiker about some lakes and the pass that he came from. I head off trail and soon find a flat spot with a gorgeous view of a lake bellow surrounded by mountains. It’s a bit windy but the ground seems stable and my stakes go in deep.

Camp

It’s only 6 o’clock, which is pretty early for me to stop, but I figure either hang out here for the evening or just get closer to town to get in early. I don’t feel I need to get into town early tomorrow. In fact I wouldn’t go in at all if I had enough food, but I need to resupply, so I must go into Pinedale.

Even stopping at 6 PM I only have about 12 miles to the trailhead to hitch into town. I should be there before noon, which is plenty of time to resupply  and charge things up. There’s a hostel in town that I will most likely stay the night at and head out the next day after a big breakfast of course. Until next time, happy trails.

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Big progress was made this week. First, our trail family reassembled looking almost identical to the group we were back in Julian, almost 1250 miles ago! Second, someone que Bon Jovi, because, by some miracle, we are now over halfway through the PCT, closer to Canada than Mexico. Wildfires still hang in the forefront of our minds, but other than evidence of old burns, we continue to evade this threat.

Day 92 

We woke and started the day with a climb, the hazy sky providing views of rolling blue hills. The early sun so low in the sky it reflected in the lakes appearing as silver mirrors. On trail, we moved through burn-scarred areas. Charcoaled trees nothing more than stick figures, but below an abundance of new, thriving life.

Once at the peak of our climb we proceeded downwards and would find ourselves descending 6000ft (1800m) to get to the town of Belden. Dan and I had a package at Caribou Crossing, so we left the others and flagged a ride down the road. The man who picked us up seemed normal enough until a cop car pulled up behind us. Our driver began swearing and calling out his licence would be revoked. At one point, he rolled up the windows and I wondered if he would do a runner if they tried to pull him over. Luckily they never did and we continued into Caribou but I still wonder what he had in the car to make him so jumpy.

We picked up our resupply and much needed new pair of shoes. The Sierra had been brutal, wrecking our tread to nothing. It was painfully hot, slightly cooler outside in the shade with a breeze than within the sweaty store.

The laundry had taken longer than we anticipated, so by the time we headed back to trail we were an hour behind the others and had a 1.5 mile road walk before we even made it to trail. Daylight was dwindling quickly but despite this, the heat of the day remained. Hot wind licked our faces and the ground seemed to retain a days worth of sun.

The hike out of Belden was brutal, gaining almost 6000 feet (1800m) of elevation over 13.5 miles. We decided to camp 4 miles below the others, making a 2 mile dent in the climb. It was simply too hot, even in the fading light it continued to stifle us.

Day 93

By the time dawn reached us we had already been powering up the mammoth climb for an hour and a half. The path was thick with a mix of ash and mud, the trees leafless, the remaining stumps half blackened, half ghostly white. We would pass through sections dense with felled trees, having to navigate around or over them. It made for difficult walking, particularly as there was no shade and intense heat.

Ten miles in and we entered the Cascades, leaving behind the Sierra. The field we travelled through was rich with green grass and boggy in areas. The change from burnt area to this was sudden. I hadn’t realised the absence of birdsong within the burn until entering the meadow.

Soon we were back in burn zone, our legs now grey from the combination of dirt and ash. The view from the top of the climb was harrowing. The surrounding peaks appeared brown, their skeletal, bare trees suggesting more fire damage. Seeing how far the devastation spread made the threat feel colossal.

After 16 miles we broke for lunch at a spring and hid in the shade. By this time the trail family were all back together and we had entered living forest again. We spent a couple of hours here, resting and eating. The final 8 miles were fairly easy following undulating trail that trended downwards.

We made camp above Robbers Spring. Water had become sparse again and required a 0.6 mile round trip to replenish our bottles. A lone deer appeared to have a circuit running the perimeter of our camp, judging by the tread marks and the amount of times he encircled us. He would keep us company most of the night!

We sat eating on the ridge line of camp watching the sunset light up our surroundings a golden orange. The colour of the sky continued to burn even as we settled into our tents for some much needed sleep.

Day 94 

We had planned to leave early, but as my 5am alarm sounded I silenced it, unable to hear anyone else rustling in their tents suggesting we all felt the need for a lie in. It turned out to work in our favour. As an hour later we were just finishing breakfast as Kaleidoscope wandered into camp. They had been a couple of days behind walking with a friend from home, but having smashed out 30 mile days had managed to catch up.

It was a wonderful surprise, especially considering we would be hitting the halfway mark of the PCT. The seven of us set off. The route to the mid-point taking us up an exposed ridge then down through lush forest which faded to low, overgrown bush. Views of Mount Lassen kept sneaking up on us, its snowy white peaks hazy in the smoky sky.

A mile from the marker we waited for one another so as to walk the final mile in unison. In keeping with our tramily name, The caterpillar, we marched in a single line and soon we were there, exactly 1325 miles to Canada and 1325 miles to Mexico: a single step to either side dictating which we were closer to. We cracked out the whisky, toasting to our achievement before chatting merrily and enjoying the photo opportunity.

All seven of us had started on the same day. In fact, Dan and I had met them all at some point on that first day. We had also all split up from one another at some point on trail. Now, to find ourselves all together again 93 days later baffles me.

And so, we started the second half of our walk to Canada. As we descended through the burn zone I considered how I was feeling. A nagging, panicking part of my brain reminded me that it had taken us over 3 months to get halfway, and with a six month visa we needed to get a wiggle on. The more mellow part of my brain argued back that the distractions of the desert and the slow slog of the Sierra were behind us meaning we could make up miles going forward. I suspect the time it has taken us to get this far will be drastically cut in this second half.

We arrived at the roadside, and while Dan and I had no plans to visit Chester, the others convinced us to join them. We hitched in, showered, did laundry and enjoyed milkshakes. Evening creeped in and we headed to the park to camp. Arena and Rebecca had now joined us meaning eight of us slept side by side under the stars while Sweet Rolls stayed at a nearby bed and breakfast. Luckily we had decided to cowboy camp on the basketball court instead of the grass surrounding it. As we were settling down, an awful clunking and rapid clicking sounded, which turned out to be the sprinklers.

Day 95 

As expected, no one had slept particularly well on the basketball court. We made a swift exit, packing away and heading to the grocery store. A coffee and some rice pudding for breakfast and we were hitching back to trail.

The path was brutal. We were immediately thrown back into burn zone. Low level thorned shrub occupied the floor, cutting at our legs.

Just before entering its National Park, we got glimpses of Mount Lassen, and for the first time the view was unobstructed by smoke. The edges of the elongated volcano crisp and defined against the blue sky.

As we were walking through a section of the trail drenched in ash and lined with frail dead trees I heard Frodo shriek and run backwards. A dead tree had threatened to fall, swaying violently towards trail as the wind hit. We took it in turns, timing our passage to safety during breaks in the wind.

Towards the afternoon we took a small side quest off trail to visit Terminal Geyser. Here we sat watching the billowing clouds of supher loaded steam ascend from the spewing water and mud. It rose a few metres before dissipating into nothingness.

As we continued on we came across Boiling Springs Lake, a sulphur spring. It sat within a basin of red and yellow mud. The water itself looked the colour of an artists water jar after use, a mirky mix of grey and colour. It rippled with activity, steam dancing in the wind, and bubbles breaking the surface of the water.

We arrived at camp, now a large party of nine. Luckily there was room for us all at the campsite with bear boxes for use.

“It’s called the CREST trail. That’s why it’s so hard” – Kaleidoscope

Day 96 

The mission that day was to get to the post office before 2pm to pick up resupply before it shut. The post office was 24 miles away. Kaleidoscope was in the same position as me so at 5am the two of us snuck out of camp to begin our quest of reaching the post office in time, leaving the rest of the camp sleeping. Dan was quite happy to enjoy an extra hour of sleep and not have to rush on his sore foot.

We started the climb up in the dark, sunrise breaking through the trees as we reached the summit. The dawning light revealed darkening wisps of cloud which promised rain. We raced on, trying to not only keep to our schedule but to also avoid the darkest of the clouds above us.

By 10am we had managed 13 miles and treated ourselves to a coffee break. We took a moment to discuss how we experienced trail, neither of us fully understanding what was driving us forward. Trail is not enjoyable in the typical sense. It is hard, painful and relentless. Yet there is a satisfaction of getting to the end of the day knowing that despite this, my body and mind can endure and even find joy and meaning in the day. We both reflected on how our tolerance for discomfort has increased and how much more adept we feel coping with the never ending challenges of trail. Whether this attitude will continue post-trail and back in the real world remains to be seen.

The night before, Twister had asked what everyone thought about while walking on trail. Interestingly, Sweet Rolls and Dan had expressed having blank minds while walking which shocked the rest of us who have to use audiobooks to mute the continuous ramblings of our brains. Kaleidoscope reflected that they thought they would have detailed discussions on people’s ‘why’s’ on the PCT and that would be the catalyst for deep reflective conversation with others. But in reality this question falls a little flat. My experience is that most hikers don’t fully know why they are compelled to hike the PCT. There is a calling and one must respond. I’ve also found that there’s a sense of understanding amongst hikers, whereby you don’t need to know their why, just an understanding that the same summoning has captured you.

Just as we packed away our cups the rain came and we swiftly departed, our ponchos fluttering in the wind.

We made it to Old Station for 13:30 and after retrieving our packages settled at a shaded table outside of the general store. For the next couple of hours the rest of our family trailed in and we spent a considerable time eating ice cream and lounging about.

A ten year old and her two friends asked if we wanted hot dogs and sodas. The three of them tended to the grill and severed us some of the most unexpected trail magic on trail so far. Turns out the young girl in question is keen to hike the PCT with her mum one day and until then wants to help other hikers the way she anticipates to be treated.

The final 5 miles to camp were easy, especially after food and four hours of rest. We set up camp before squeezing into a cramped picnic bench for family dinner. 

Day 97 

None of us set an alarm and I fully enjoyed the lie in, finally stirring at 6:30am. We packed away and got a coffee and bear claw from the gas station before walking half a mile down the trail. We arrived at the entrance to the lava tube. This is essentially a cave with a path running 1000 feet (300m) underground where lava use to flow about 20,000 years ago.

Still with coffees in hand we descended the steps and into the damp coolness of the tunnel. We donned head torches and as we walked we came across three figures up ahead, frozen while walking across the length of the passage. It was Sweet Rolls, Kaleidoscope and Sam, who admitted to waiting longer than anticipated in this position for our arrival.

We headed on out up the exposed rocky path and suddenly we felt as though we were back in the desert. Manzanita shrubs lined the way and we were carrying 5L of water each to manage 30 miles without reliable water. To add to the desert feel, Dan and I heard a rattle and had to veer off the path due to a Mojave rattle snake territorially marking the area. We watched him for a while from a distance and he finally crossed the path revealing his sage coloured skin.

The heat was almost debilitating, hot and dry, but luckily with a flicker of cool air whenever the wind blew. One highlight of the day was seeing Mount Shasta for the first time, and in the other direction, from the same viewpoint, Mount Lassen.

We made it to camp for 6pm, and collapsed onto the floor in a circle. The group were all tired and feeling burnt out. We all slowly came to the conclusion that we were too tired to set up tents, so simply cowboy camped where we dropped. The eight of us randomly dotted about on a slanted slope gave no heed to the poor night sleep we would likely have, just grateful to stop and admire the view of the sun setting from where we lay.

Day 98 

For once we all woke up early. Not a surprise really: in such a close formation the first person rustling simply triggered the domino-alarm system. We began our day, and with 15 miles to town and a large resupply to do to cover us to the end of California, Dan and I decided to split, myself running on and Dan staying with the others. I shot off, grateful for the cooler climate so early in the morning, but cursed the sharp uneven ground that was trail.

Time moved quickly, myself hurtling towards the road. Squirrels and lizards darted from my path once the temperature picked up, but they were my only companions. By 10am I had made the road and hitched into the town of Burney. It was a logging town, but with decreases in the industry many establishments have gone out of business.

Our accommodation for the night would be the floor of the Word of Life Assembly Church. Here I was greeted with a free coffee, full use of showers and kitchen facilities, and allowed to camp on the gymnasium floor. I grabbed a latte and took it to the shower where I began the removal of the mud caking my legs. As I was scrubbing away the lights went off and I tried to tell myself it was the timer setting on the lights and not some haunted spirit.

By the time the others made their way down I had picked up our bounce box, showered and was on my way to the grocery store. After some food Dan joined me to help carry the bulging bags back to our accommodation. As we crossed a road a car pulled up and out jumped Paige. Utter joy passed us all at being reunited. While we haven’t been short of company I missed her terribly. Alistair and her drove us down the road saving our arms from the effort of carrying bags.

Come evening we congregated in Sweet Roll’s room where we ate Chinese food and drank beer. By 10pm we were back at the church, the gym littered with sleeping bags. For the second time this week we would be camping under a basketball hoop.

Physically we’re feeling well in ourselves. Both of us have had ongoing foot problems, but with new shoes this is improving. Mentally, we feel fantastic, surrounded by people we adore and enjoying the morale boost of passing halfway. It feels like we’ve finally found our trail legs, moving through high milage days and minimising town stays. As a group we are churning through the miles, something which continued into the next week.