For anyone interested in more photos, the public album from Facebook can be reached at:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.880046567589.2346241.12820170&l=8397a26732&type=1
Also, in case anyone on the trail is trying to find my blog based on my trail name, I should probably post that my trail name has been Scout's Honor (alternative misspellings may include Scouts Honor, Scout Honor, or just Scouts) for over a thousand miles. It's not a very exciting trail name, but it fits well enough and ought to do until a more exciting name (e.g., "Pants On Fire", "Grenade", etc.) comes along. Daybreaker and Easy Strider came up with it on our first day out of Kennedy Meadows since I had been bouncing scout-related names for several hundred miles prior. I left the McDonalds at Cajon Pass (Southern California, very early in the trip) with about seven other hikers. We ended up hitting a long series of switchbacks just as it was getting late and eventually camped together ON (I think my previous post from the time has a photo of all our tents lined up along the trail tread) the trail since there was nowhere else to go. Between cooking away from camp so as not to attract animals to my food at night, telling some of the other hikers not to through rocks as we were going up switchbacks while hikers were known to be below us, and a few other quips, the group agreed that a name related to scouts would be fitting. However, it took a while to come up with one since "Scout", "Boyscout", "Girlscout", and several others were already taken.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Onwards Through Oregon
After packing down ridiculous amounts of food at the Etna brewery, I drove myself and a few of the other hikers back to the trailhead so that we could get a few miles in before sunset. I think I forgot to mention in my last post that just as I was arriving at the access point to Etna, a group of PCTA members pulled up to the trailhead to start a section hike. Kodak Karen recognized me as a thru-hiker and immediately offered her car keys to me on the condition that I drive PCT hikers back to the trail head when I returned. This was definitely one of the more interesting rides I have had into town. I was grateful to be entrusted with her car, but in hindsight it was a bit crazy on her part to just hand over the keys. Even if integrity was not a concern to her, I would have thought twice about giving the keys to a hiker who hasn't been behind a wheel for over three months - especially considering the road. The wide two-lane road at Etna Summit quickly turned into one of the windiest one-lane mountain roads that I have ever driven, and the car didn't exactly handle as smoothly as my Saturn Ion. Having my view obscured by the rising sun and a dusty windshield (wiper fluid was empty of course) added an extra bit of "excitement". Clearly I made it in and out of town safely though.
From Etna, it was about another two days until we hit the last trail town in CA: Seiad Valley. Passing through the small town of Seiad Valley, we quickly learned that there was actually one more state to pass through before we could enter Oregon: The State of Jefferson. Long-story-short, the rural counties in northern CA and southern OR have a history of feeling neglected by their larger state governments. In response, there was a fairly serious movement in the decades before WWII to gain autonomy by succeeding from their respective states and joining to form the 51st state (they even went as far as electing a governor). However, the movement lost steam when WWII fell into swing - yet the independent attitude of the area still remains. State of Jefferson seals were plastered everywhere, along with "NO K.S. MONUMENT!" signs. The latest ire to the locals is a proposal to designate much of the surrounding area, including the town of Seiad Valley, as a Klamath-Siskiyou National Monument. Although the proposal is being pushed by environmentalists in Ashland, the locals are STRONGLY against the plan. Granted I was party to very biased details since my main source of info was talking with the store clerk and campground manager, but my understanding is that a national monument designation would greatly hamper the town's land and water rights. Whatever the details, it is very clear that this town does not want to be messed with. Anyhow, I passed on the cafe's Five Pound Pancake Challenge and left early evening to make the 4,500' ascent back to the crest. The climb was pleasant considering we sat out the afternoon heat, but I was definitely looking forward to Oregon on account of its rumored flatness.
Oregon came soon enough and there was much rejoicing. After three months of heat, sun, cold, and snow, it felt great to finally make it out of CA! Before I left for this trip, I had never even backpacked over 100 miles - yet there I was with 1,700 miles down across an entire state. To make the celebration even better, our next resupply was the town of Ashland. Of all the towns that I've visited on the trail, Ashland is the one that I would most like to visit again in the future (preferably with a car). Between the great downtown area, a large city park, and a renowned Shakespeare festival, there was so much to see and do but too little time. I focused on resupplying and relaxing - thus I held back from wandering around and exploring everything that the town had to offer. While the hikers that were sharing my motel room went to a late-night play at the other end of town, I put in a solid 12 hours of sleep instead. So it was a good rest stop, but I have motivation for going back at some point.
From Ashland, the trail turned towards Crater Lake National Park. The trail also lived up to its reputation of being flat and soft - but it was not the land of milk and honey that I had been hoping for. To be honest, walking through a perfectly flat expanse of trees can get boring pretty quick. I like climbing, and I was soon longing to be up in the mountains again. Furthermore, there were mosquitoes. Lots of mosquitoes. Literary devices escape me for an accurate description of the horror (Gangsta Rap, Collin, and I have concluded that only creative sounds - not words - can come close). How an ecosystem can support that many blood-suckers is beyond my comprehension. From about two days out from Crater Lake to four days past the park, I was swarmed 24/7. I'm not keen on exposing myself to poison, but I finally broke down and began (sparingly) using DEET in the afternoons when it was too hot to ensconce myself in rain gear. Fortunately there were a few scenic gems floating throughout the mosquito hell-hole.
The first point of interest was Crater Lake. I thought Tahoe was amazing the first time I saw it, but Crater Lake blew me away. The dark and pure blue of the surface was mesmerizing, and the volcanic Wizard Island plus the rock walls combined to make one of the most surreal images of the trip. The PCT rides along the rim of Crater Lake for just over seven miles, and my timing worked out such that I got to split the traverse over two days. Although the rim is technically a no-camping zone, I figured that most of us PCT hikers are pretty good about Leave No Trace.
After Crater Lake, there was the jagged peak of Mt. Thielson and eventually exposed lava fields beneath The Sisters (prominent snow-covered peaks near the town of Sisters). Overall though, I pushed hard to get through this section as quickly as possible with a 38 mile day, a 35 mile day, and no days below 30 miles. I wanted OUT of the mosquitoes and I desperately needed to wash my clothes. How a single pair of socks can hold so much dirty is one of the trail mysteries that no one can seem to figure out, and my two pairs were typical. Despite my marginally-effective efforts to clean them on the trail, there was enough dirt in them that the arches of my feet were abraded to the point of needing band-aids and Neosporin for several days. On the bright side, I had good company between Crater Lake and Sisters. For the first few days I hiked off-and-on with Gangsta Rap and Collin, and I spent the last day or two around Rocklocks and Mr. Fox. The last night of hiking before I split to go into Sisters was particularly entertaining since Mr. Fox also has an engineering background. Getting two engineers in the same room together (or campsite) can be dangerous in that we will never shut up - and I reckon that everyone in camp lost a solid hour that could've been used to catch up on sleep. The main topic of conversation was devising outlandish ways to repel and/or kill mosquitoes (of course). After examining some less practical ideas such as a portable tesla coil (how would you power it?) and miniature laser turrets (same problem plus many more) - we started to think about acoustic methods. If you could acoustically force the mosquitoes at their resonant frequency - or the resonant frequency of their internal organs - that ought to freak them out enough to make them less interested in dinner (i.e., YOU). Of course that raises the question of "Well, how does one go about finding the resonant frequency of a mosquito?". After pondering the question, I laid out an experimental procedure that ought to work fairly well (to anyone associated with PETA or other animal rights groups, let me state that ethics does not apply to mosquitoes). I will spare you the details of super glue, shaker tables, and laser doppler vibrometers.
The only other interesting features from the last section were trail legends and trail magic. Right before the trail junction where many hikers go into Elk Lake Resort for a resupply, I ran into a blazing-fast Southbounder. He was the first thru-hiking Southbounder that I had encountered and he seemed to be in a hurry to push 12 more miles for the day. There was something familiar about him, as if I had seen a picture of him before, and he politely gave a detailed report of the trail conditions ahead in Washington. Granted things are changing quickly, so I should be better off by the time I get there, but he mentioned that he only had heavy snow north of Snoqualmie Pass. He had introduced himself as "Bink" and was carrying what looked to be the lightest/smallest pack I've seen yet. Only later when I got to town did I confirm that Bink was in fact Scott Williamson, a PCT legend. Scott Williamson holds the record for the fastest thru-hike at 66 days, and apparently he is trying to beat his previous record by making 65 days this year. Good luck to him; I'll be content just to finish the trail happy and healthy. As for trail magic, Lost and Found (a retired school teacher) was camped at Lava Lake and providing all sorts of delicious food to every hiker willing to make the half-mile detour.
From Lava Lake I had the option of catching a ride from the nearby McKenzie Pass or pushing on another 17 miles to Santiam Pass. Although I was craving a shower and clean clothes (trail magic had satiated my appetite somewhat), I wanted to knock a few miles off the next leg of my trip. I decided I would rather hike the extra 17 miles with a practically empty pack than have to carry any extra food out of Sisters. Santiam Pass proved to be the better hitch since there was actually a shoulder where cars could pull over and it was heavily traveled. I can't say that there's anything particularly interesting to report about Sisters, but it is a nice tourist town with everything (except canister fuel) that a thru-hiker could need. I intended to get a ton of sleep here, but I got sucked into watching both volumes of Kill Bill on AMC last night. Fortunately the coffee shop here has the best coffee I've seen on the trail yet. Anyhow, it looks like the afternoon rain has passed and it is about time that I get back to the trail. Next stop: Oregon-Washington border at Cascade Locks!
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Nor. Cal.
After taking what felt like an eternity to make it through the Sierras, Northern California has flown by in a blink of an eye. I am currently taking a much needed zero (my first for Northern California, although technically I still had to get up at 5 AM and hike 5 miles this morning) in Etna. Assuming things go right, this should be my last stop in California before I cross the border into Oregon! It's been a great adventure, but it is starting to wear on me that I've been hiking for exactly three months and am still in the same state as when I started. Fortunately the PCT holds a considerably straighter course through Oregon and Washington, so those states shouldn't take nearly as long (obviously the smaller size of the states helps as well).
For anyone interested in pictures, the public link for my Northern California album on Facebook is:
So, back to where I left off. I returned to the trail at Echo Lake after taking exactly a week off to get rid of a killer shin splint. Although I've been cautious about pushing my speed too hard, it seems that the time off did the trick and the shin splint hasn't bothered me yet. However, another week off the trail (in addition to five days off in Yosemite) put me behind "the herd" and I was eager to make up for lost time. Eager though I was, "making up for lost time" would have to wait until after Sierra City. Perhaps it was just a case of Post Traumatic Snow Disorder, but the five days between Echo Lake and Sierra City were easily my least-favorite. As much time as I've spent biking near the Tahoe Basin and trail-running along its ridges, I was really looking forward to the section of the PCT that overlaps with the Tahoe Rim Trail (TRT). Unfortunately the TRT in that area was nothing but one set of obstacles after another this year. There were downed trees everywhere to climb over, hordes of mosquitoes, mud/water/swampland where the trail should be, misleading footprints, debris all over the trail, and last-but-not-least SNOW. A rare case of foresight had convinced me to print off Halfmile's topo-maps for this section, so I had insurance against getting completely lost. I thought putting GPS mapping software on my "smart" phone would also add insurance, but I killed the battery on my first day of playing with it. Fortunately I haven't forgotten everything that I learned in the Scouts, and I managed to navigate the snowy sections without losing too much time. The serious snow finally gave way after Donner Pass, giving me a clear shot into Sierra City.
Sierra City is a fairly small town that traces its roots to the gold rush era, and it is also home to the hiker-famous Red Moose Inn. The Red Moose Inn is one of the most hiker-friendly establishments on the trail; I'd categorize it more as a "trail angel" than as a "business". Free lodging (pitch-your-own-tent), free laundry, free wi-fi, and All-You-Can-Eat ribs for less than $12! I talked with one of the owners, and it turns out that she and her husband actually purchased the place because they wanted more storage space for their mining equipment. While her history involved a career in either molecular or micro biology, she and her husband are now legitimate miners. I never realized that people still mine personal claims (patches of property) - but apparently it's a big activity. She even pulled out a contacts case filled with a few of her recent specimens to show me: specks, flakes, and even a few tiny nuggets of pure Californian gold! She reckoned that she and her husband probably yield about $600 worth of gold from a solid day's work. After this introduction to present-day mining, I picked the brain of a retired NFS employee at the general store about the area's mining history. The gold in Placer County is found in pure specks intermingled with all the other rocky debris and sediment - as opposed to being locked inside ore that must be crushed and processed. Although miners at first panned the river beds, it quickly came to everyone's attention that a lot of gold was loosely deposited on the mountaintops. This in turn led to the boom of hydraulic mining in which companies would dam rivers, draw off water, and blast it at the tops of mountains to wash down the gold-containing sediments. Unfortunatley blasting away the tops of mountains tends to clog rivers with silt, and population centers around Sacramento were not happy with this. So the lucrative practice was quickly banned. I also learned about the technical details of other mining/processing techniques such as cyanide leaching and mercury amalgamation. I refer the interested reader to the wonders of Wikipedia for further information.
After a leisurely breakfast of pancakes and coffee, I departed the Red Moose Inn for Belden. Although the section from Sierra City to Belden wasn't terribly interesting, the snow FINALLY thinned out. After cutting a number of snow-ladden switchbacks on my first day, I had clear -albeit somewhat overgrown - trail for the rest of the section. That alone made the trip awesome. To make things even better, I was able to call the post office and have my packages picked up by a local trail angel since I was going to arrive on a Saturday (P.O. is closed all weekend in Belden). Rather than spend two days waiting on the P.O., I was able to get picked up by the trail angel Mrs. Braatan, shower and do laundry, and hit the trail again by the evening. It was tempting to stay at the extra building on her property that had been converted into a hiker hostel, but I wanted to catch-up with the herd.
From Belden, I climbed into Lassen Volcanic National Park and passed my first big milestone in quite some time: the PCT Halfway Mile Marker! Rather than celebrate like most hikers by hitching into Chester for icecream, I pushed the quickest 28 miles of my trip to make it to Drakesbad Guest Ranch in time for dinner. I had heard about the incredible hiker hospitality and amazing food at Drakesbad from southbound hikers and knew that I had to stop. Drakesbad is a laid-back resort in the middle of the national park that always has its accomodations booked-out months in advance. They don't need extra money from the hikers and the park service doesn't require that they do anything to help us, yet they have taken it upon themselves to give thru-hikers a treat. Upon arriving a Drakesbad, the Bavarian owner Ed thrusts a mesh bag with towel and soap at you and points you to the showers. After showering, the staff take your dirty clothes in the mesh bag and toss them in the laundry free-of-charge while you can relax in clean "town clothes" that they provide. Between the tables and chairs in the shade, the hammock, and the hot-springs pool, relaxing is pretty easy. Then, to top everything off, the resort gives PCT hikers a killer discount on food. $5 for a breakfast buffet, $7 for a lunch buffet, and $10 for a multi-course dinner that includes salad, fresh-baked bread, and dessert! I pitty the hiker that bypasses the short side-trail to Drakesbad.
I had originally intended to just stay for dinner and head out early the next morning. However, I am a sucker for all-you-can eat breakfasts with fresh coffee - so I decided to stay a few extra hours. After a long breakfast the next morning, I got caught up talking with the other hikers at the hot springs pool and before I knew it, it was only an hour before lunch. Among other stories, I listened to the Aussie girl named Jimbrick describe how she had hit something along the lines of 60 [no typo] kangaroos with her vehicle over the years! 60!!! She went on to explain that she would usually club the crippled animals in the head with a tire-iron so that they could die a quick and somewhat less-painful death. The tire-iron apparently became her tool of choice after she had a "failed" attempt in which it took her 5-10 minutes to dispatch a poor roo with a shovel. To say that Australia will be an interesting place when I go there next year is an understatement. So I said to hell with getting an early start and didn't get out of Drakesbad until after 2 PM. It was a good break though, and it made the awaiting army of mosquitos somewhat more bearable.
From Drakesbad the trail continued to improve and the only known hurdle that remained was Hat Creek Rim. Hat Creek Rim is a 30 mile exposed and waterless strech between the small resort of Old Station and the next source of water. Rather than push this section during the mid-day heat while carrying a large amount of water, I decided to take a few hours off at Old Station to hydrate and restock on calories. Around 5 PM or so, loaded with a few liters of water plus a can of Red Bull a piece, Happy Whale (a political science graduate from Humboldt State) and I left with the intention of doing a night-hike. However, months of P.T.F.O. (Google/Urban Dictionary if you must) at 9 PM and awaking at 6 AM has an effect on the biological clock that is hard to override. Come 10 PM we were both sleepy, I was stubbing my toes on rocks, and Happy Whale had an adrenaline-spiking encounter with a rattlesnake. So we laid out our sleeping bags to camp under the stars and set our alarms for 4 AM. Surprisingly, we got up "on-time" and continued our hike to Burney. After signing my name in the register at "Cache 22" (a water cache 22 miles into the dry stretch), I pulled ahead and pushed as fast as I could to make it to Burney before the post office closed. With less than an hour to spare, I made it in time to pick up new shoes (my old ones both had tears down the sides such that you could see socks) and a new ground-cloth for my tent/cowboy camping (I am finally rocking a stylish 3' x 7.5' piece of Tyvek)! There was nothing particulary attractive about Burney, so I pushed on and got back to the trail by early evening.
Before leaving Burney, I looked in the McDonalds mirror and instantly realized why I might've had a hard time hitching into town. Despite being only a few days out from Drakesbad, I was as dirty as ever from all the dust. I must've washed my hands 4-5 times while I was there and I still don't think I managed to get them clean! Between the lack of sleep (hiking Hat Creek Rim) and my contacts being expired (I switched them before I left), my eyes were pretty bloodshot. Last but not least, my hair was sticking out in every odd direction and my beard had surpassed the "slight fuzz" stage. I definitely have the bum/thru-hiker look going for me now. I also caught up with one of my friends from Tech, and it was refreshing to have someone ask questions deeper than the standard "So what do you do about bears? How much does your pack weigh? How do you get food? ...". One of the questions she asked was, "What do you miss most about the outside world?" After some deep thought, I realized that the one thing I personally long for in the wilderness is communication. To clarify, I mean that I miss having constant and instantaneous communication with everyone. I am one of those people who (almost) always responds to his emails/voicemails ASAP, and I took it for granted being able to talk with people in real time. Out here, where I can only contact the rest of the world while I'm in town, there's generally a 4-6 day delay on all communications. To compound the issue, both I and whomever I am talking to have usally forgotten where we left off the last time we spoke. On the positive side, conversations have grown to be of higher quality; i.e., less superficial than the general "So where did you go running today?" sort of talks.
After Burney, the miles flew by as I was treated with clear trail and stunning views of Mt. Shasta. I continued to pass hikers and it became clear that I had finally caught up with the herd. At Castella, I road-walked a few miles to pick up a food package (my foresight is getting better, I mailed my box to the local store instead of the P.O. since I would be arriving on a weekend) and took a side-trail to get back to the PCT before nightfall. It was tempted to go into Shasta with a few of the other hikers so that I could take the night off and grab a real breakfast, but I was still eager to make miles. I had heard good things about Etna, and I wanted to push on. From Castella, the trail climbed steeply through Castle Crags State Park and onwards through numerous wilderness areas. I'll keep my description simple and just say that the section between Castella and Etna has probably been one of my highlights for the trip. The trail was clear, the water sources were ample, and the scenery was spectacular. This would definitely be one of the sections that I'd recommend for anyone looking to do just a section/weekend trip on the PCT.
I loved the section between Castella and Etna, but I could tell that the miles were starting to wear on me. Although I had taken a few days with "only" 15 miles of hiking, I hadn't taken a good near-0 since Tahoe. My hiker appetite returned with a vengance, and I suspect that I've already lost the weight that I managed to put back on during my time off (so I'll have to start carrying more food, and/or paying more for lavish meals in town). Although I was still able to push big-mile days, my actual speed was starting to drop too. So I have been looking forward to this zero for a few days now. Fortunately Etna has an awesome hiker hostel here, and I've already taken care of the essential shower, laundry, and food shopping. Word on the street is that I've got beatifully clear trail on through to Ashland, and that I won't hit any significant snow until after Crater Lake. For now, it's off to the local brew pub for some burgers and beverages...
For anyone interested in pictures, the public link for my Northern California album on Facebook is:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.874247803359.2343841.12820170&l=2beb67a363&type=1
So, back to where I left off. I returned to the trail at Echo Lake after taking exactly a week off to get rid of a killer shin splint. Although I've been cautious about pushing my speed too hard, it seems that the time off did the trick and the shin splint hasn't bothered me yet. However, another week off the trail (in addition to five days off in Yosemite) put me behind "the herd" and I was eager to make up for lost time. Eager though I was, "making up for lost time" would have to wait until after Sierra City. Perhaps it was just a case of Post Traumatic Snow Disorder, but the five days between Echo Lake and Sierra City were easily my least-favorite. As much time as I've spent biking near the Tahoe Basin and trail-running along its ridges, I was really looking forward to the section of the PCT that overlaps with the Tahoe Rim Trail (TRT). Unfortunately the TRT in that area was nothing but one set of obstacles after another this year. There were downed trees everywhere to climb over, hordes of mosquitoes, mud/water/swampland where the trail should be, misleading footprints, debris all over the trail, and last-but-not-least SNOW. A rare case of foresight had convinced me to print off Halfmile's topo-maps for this section, so I had insurance against getting completely lost. I thought putting GPS mapping software on my "smart" phone would also add insurance, but I killed the battery on my first day of playing with it. Fortunately I haven't forgotten everything that I learned in the Scouts, and I managed to navigate the snowy sections without losing too much time. The serious snow finally gave way after Donner Pass, giving me a clear shot into Sierra City.
Sierra City is a fairly small town that traces its roots to the gold rush era, and it is also home to the hiker-famous Red Moose Inn. The Red Moose Inn is one of the most hiker-friendly establishments on the trail; I'd categorize it more as a "trail angel" than as a "business". Free lodging (pitch-your-own-tent), free laundry, free wi-fi, and All-You-Can-Eat ribs for less than $12! I talked with one of the owners, and it turns out that she and her husband actually purchased the place because they wanted more storage space for their mining equipment. While her history involved a career in either molecular or micro biology, she and her husband are now legitimate miners. I never realized that people still mine personal claims (patches of property) - but apparently it's a big activity. She even pulled out a contacts case filled with a few of her recent specimens to show me: specks, flakes, and even a few tiny nuggets of pure Californian gold! She reckoned that she and her husband probably yield about $600 worth of gold from a solid day's work. After this introduction to present-day mining, I picked the brain of a retired NFS employee at the general store about the area's mining history. The gold in Placer County is found in pure specks intermingled with all the other rocky debris and sediment - as opposed to being locked inside ore that must be crushed and processed. Although miners at first panned the river beds, it quickly came to everyone's attention that a lot of gold was loosely deposited on the mountaintops. This in turn led to the boom of hydraulic mining in which companies would dam rivers, draw off water, and blast it at the tops of mountains to wash down the gold-containing sediments. Unfortunatley blasting away the tops of mountains tends to clog rivers with silt, and population centers around Sacramento were not happy with this. So the lucrative practice was quickly banned. I also learned about the technical details of other mining/processing techniques such as cyanide leaching and mercury amalgamation. I refer the interested reader to the wonders of Wikipedia for further information.
After a leisurely breakfast of pancakes and coffee, I departed the Red Moose Inn for Belden. Although the section from Sierra City to Belden wasn't terribly interesting, the snow FINALLY thinned out. After cutting a number of snow-ladden switchbacks on my first day, I had clear -albeit somewhat overgrown - trail for the rest of the section. That alone made the trip awesome. To make things even better, I was able to call the post office and have my packages picked up by a local trail angel since I was going to arrive on a Saturday (P.O. is closed all weekend in Belden). Rather than spend two days waiting on the P.O., I was able to get picked up by the trail angel Mrs. Braatan, shower and do laundry, and hit the trail again by the evening. It was tempting to stay at the extra building on her property that had been converted into a hiker hostel, but I wanted to catch-up with the herd.
From Belden, I climbed into Lassen Volcanic National Park and passed my first big milestone in quite some time: the PCT Halfway Mile Marker! Rather than celebrate like most hikers by hitching into Chester for icecream, I pushed the quickest 28 miles of my trip to make it to Drakesbad Guest Ranch in time for dinner. I had heard about the incredible hiker hospitality and amazing food at Drakesbad from southbound hikers and knew that I had to stop. Drakesbad is a laid-back resort in the middle of the national park that always has its accomodations booked-out months in advance. They don't need extra money from the hikers and the park service doesn't require that they do anything to help us, yet they have taken it upon themselves to give thru-hikers a treat. Upon arriving a Drakesbad, the Bavarian owner Ed thrusts a mesh bag with towel and soap at you and points you to the showers. After showering, the staff take your dirty clothes in the mesh bag and toss them in the laundry free-of-charge while you can relax in clean "town clothes" that they provide. Between the tables and chairs in the shade, the hammock, and the hot-springs pool, relaxing is pretty easy. Then, to top everything off, the resort gives PCT hikers a killer discount on food. $5 for a breakfast buffet, $7 for a lunch buffet, and $10 for a multi-course dinner that includes salad, fresh-baked bread, and dessert! I pitty the hiker that bypasses the short side-trail to Drakesbad.
I had originally intended to just stay for dinner and head out early the next morning. However, I am a sucker for all-you-can eat breakfasts with fresh coffee - so I decided to stay a few extra hours. After a long breakfast the next morning, I got caught up talking with the other hikers at the hot springs pool and before I knew it, it was only an hour before lunch. Among other stories, I listened to the Aussie girl named Jimbrick describe how she had hit something along the lines of 60 [no typo] kangaroos with her vehicle over the years! 60!!! She went on to explain that she would usually club the crippled animals in the head with a tire-iron so that they could die a quick and somewhat less-painful death. The tire-iron apparently became her tool of choice after she had a "failed" attempt in which it took her 5-10 minutes to dispatch a poor roo with a shovel. To say that Australia will be an interesting place when I go there next year is an understatement. So I said to hell with getting an early start and didn't get out of Drakesbad until after 2 PM. It was a good break though, and it made the awaiting army of mosquitos somewhat more bearable.
From Drakesbad the trail continued to improve and the only known hurdle that remained was Hat Creek Rim. Hat Creek Rim is a 30 mile exposed and waterless strech between the small resort of Old Station and the next source of water. Rather than push this section during the mid-day heat while carrying a large amount of water, I decided to take a few hours off at Old Station to hydrate and restock on calories. Around 5 PM or so, loaded with a few liters of water plus a can of Red Bull a piece, Happy Whale (a political science graduate from Humboldt State) and I left with the intention of doing a night-hike. However, months of P.T.F.O. (Google/Urban Dictionary if you must) at 9 PM and awaking at 6 AM has an effect on the biological clock that is hard to override. Come 10 PM we were both sleepy, I was stubbing my toes on rocks, and Happy Whale had an adrenaline-spiking encounter with a rattlesnake. So we laid out our sleeping bags to camp under the stars and set our alarms for 4 AM. Surprisingly, we got up "on-time" and continued our hike to Burney. After signing my name in the register at "Cache 22" (a water cache 22 miles into the dry stretch), I pulled ahead and pushed as fast as I could to make it to Burney before the post office closed. With less than an hour to spare, I made it in time to pick up new shoes (my old ones both had tears down the sides such that you could see socks) and a new ground-cloth for my tent/cowboy camping (I am finally rocking a stylish 3' x 7.5' piece of Tyvek)! There was nothing particulary attractive about Burney, so I pushed on and got back to the trail by early evening.
Before leaving Burney, I looked in the McDonalds mirror and instantly realized why I might've had a hard time hitching into town. Despite being only a few days out from Drakesbad, I was as dirty as ever from all the dust. I must've washed my hands 4-5 times while I was there and I still don't think I managed to get them clean! Between the lack of sleep (hiking Hat Creek Rim) and my contacts being expired (I switched them before I left), my eyes were pretty bloodshot. Last but not least, my hair was sticking out in every odd direction and my beard had surpassed the "slight fuzz" stage. I definitely have the bum/thru-hiker look going for me now. I also caught up with one of my friends from Tech, and it was refreshing to have someone ask questions deeper than the standard "So what do you do about bears? How much does your pack weigh? How do you get food? ...". One of the questions she asked was, "What do you miss most about the outside world?" After some deep thought, I realized that the one thing I personally long for in the wilderness is communication. To clarify, I mean that I miss having constant and instantaneous communication with everyone. I am one of those people who (almost) always responds to his emails/voicemails ASAP, and I took it for granted being able to talk with people in real time. Out here, where I can only contact the rest of the world while I'm in town, there's generally a 4-6 day delay on all communications. To compound the issue, both I and whomever I am talking to have usally forgotten where we left off the last time we spoke. On the positive side, conversations have grown to be of higher quality; i.e., less superficial than the general "So where did you go running today?" sort of talks.
After Burney, the miles flew by as I was treated with clear trail and stunning views of Mt. Shasta. I continued to pass hikers and it became clear that I had finally caught up with the herd. At Castella, I road-walked a few miles to pick up a food package (my foresight is getting better, I mailed my box to the local store instead of the P.O. since I would be arriving on a weekend) and took a side-trail to get back to the PCT before nightfall. It was tempted to go into Shasta with a few of the other hikers so that I could take the night off and grab a real breakfast, but I was still eager to make miles. I had heard good things about Etna, and I wanted to push on. From Castella, the trail climbed steeply through Castle Crags State Park and onwards through numerous wilderness areas. I'll keep my description simple and just say that the section between Castella and Etna has probably been one of my highlights for the trip. The trail was clear, the water sources were ample, and the scenery was spectacular. This would definitely be one of the sections that I'd recommend for anyone looking to do just a section/weekend trip on the PCT.
I loved the section between Castella and Etna, but I could tell that the miles were starting to wear on me. Although I had taken a few days with "only" 15 miles of hiking, I hadn't taken a good near-0 since Tahoe. My hiker appetite returned with a vengance, and I suspect that I've already lost the weight that I managed to put back on during my time off (so I'll have to start carrying more food, and/or paying more for lavish meals in town). Although I was still able to push big-mile days, my actual speed was starting to drop too. So I have been looking forward to this zero for a few days now. Fortunately Etna has an awesome hiker hostel here, and I've already taken care of the essential shower, laundry, and food shopping. Word on the street is that I've got beatifully clear trail on through to Ashland, and that I won't hit any significant snow until after Crater Lake. For now, it's off to the local brew pub for some burgers and beverages...
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