In spite of the increasingly warmer weather, we awoke to a very chilly morning enough so that we each started hiking with our down jackets on. The initial climb and descent were an abject lesson in the katabatic effect. As we climbed a mere hundred or two feet out of our camp by a small river the air immediately began to warm, only to have the chill swiftly return…
Pacific Crest Trail 2016
Daily dispatches and photos from the Pacific Crest Trail, a 2654-mile footpath running from Mexico to Canada through California, Oregon, and Washington.
What Do You Mean There's No Water?
Just when memories of the searing heat and long waterless stretches of the desert had drifted deep into the recesses of my mind, it all came abruptly flooding back...but I'll come back to that.
Desert Redux
The thermometer is not my friend, or at best our relationship is strained. Today was further evidence of that fact. Hitting the trail a bit before 6am to get a jump on the impending heat, the Hat Creek Rim stretched still another 10 miles and beyond that another 6 awaited before the next water source. It was the desert all over again.
Migraine Meltdown
The title very nearly says it all as the migraine that began its infancy late last night blossomed into its adolescence in the first hours of hiking this morning. Having to pause and take my medication put somewhat of a damper on an otherwise celebratory moment when we came across a small cooler near a road crossing that contained a handful of cold beers.
The Battle of Attrition
The heat wave again had us starting early to take advantage of what little relief was to be had by hiking in the comparative cool of the morning. That sticky feeling you get, even at such an early hour, often portends the inferno yet to come and today was no exception. The refuge of the shade was the only meager relief available from the oppressive heat.
Head Down, Feet Forward
When the lack of phenomenally exciting terrain and pure logistics inevitably collide from time to time, certain trail days become more about doing the miles than anything else. Today was Exhibit A of this collision. But before the clock became our master for the day, we were treated to some beautiful scenery just after sunrise as the shroud of night began to lift from the landscape to our west.
Mount Shasta
The heat wave continued, though we rarely suffered the sun's full wrath since the trail was mostly covered in shade. Beardoh even remarked how much the trail reminded him of the Appalachian Trail, a.k.a. the "Long Green Tunnel."
The Great Western Swing
Tearing yourself away from the creature comforts of air conditioning and a bed can be pretty tough when the forecast is for over 100 degrees outside, yet there we were strolling through the empty, quiet streets of Mt. Shasta just after 6am, heading for the I-5 onramp.
Cruise Control
The elevation profile looked particularly benign today, so when we set off this morning it looked to be a fairly comfortable day. But by the time we reached a road crossing little more than four miles into the day, we sat by the side of the road contemplating what to do. Beardoh had been struggling with worsening indigestion, stomach cramps, and fatigue the entire week…
Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs
The calendar turned another page today, and it's hard for me to believe that August is already here. Hearkening back to the summers of my childhood, August always felt like the beginning of the end, the start of a new school year drawing all too near. Although it means that summer has nearly run half its course, for me it still feels as though there is still so much trail left to be hiked.
Etna
The anticipation of getting into the town of Etna for resupply today was heightened even more by wanting to reunite with Beardoh and Sweet Pea, and to learn how Beardoh had been faring since they left the trail two days ago. Aside from getting stung by a bee during my last break of the day when I sat on some fallen timber that had a hive beneath it, it was a pretty uneventful stroll.
The Thinning Herd
The high drama that the trail had been lacking for the past week or more returned in a flash today, as we entered into the Marble Mountain Wilderness, where rugged and rocky peaks with high alpine lakes quickly replaced the dense forests.
I Love a Good Steam Bath
I'd almost forgotten what humidity felt like. That unpleasant stickiness that had been a constant companion growing up in the heat of the upstate New York summer and had followed me for months of my Appalachian Trail thru-hike has been nearly nonexistent on the Pacific Crest Trail. Oh, how that would change today.
The State of Jefferson
The town of Seiad Valley hardly qualifies as a town at all, complete with its population of 350 and comprised only of a cafe, store, post office, and RV park that occupy consecutive lots. Aside from hosting a pancake challenge--anyone who eats 5 pounds of pancakes, gets them for free--its real claim to "fame" is…
A Golden State of Mind
Today marks my last full day and night in California, and although the trail is positively pulsing with excitement at the prospect of reaching Oregon, it would be impossible to forget the nearly endless string of beauty that has been on display as we've followed these first 1700 miles.
Welcome to Oregon
The sound of the morning was an unusual one: a distant chime and then a cluster of them, faint but clear. High on a ridge near 7,000 feet, the list of possible sources was quite limited. As it grew louder, the chimes revealed themselves for what they really were: cow bells. The patchwork of meadows we'd seen since yesterday were the perfect place for a herd of free-ranging cattle to graze.
Looking Ahead
On our first full day in Oregon, the destination was Callahan's Lodge, a small hotel next to Interstate 5 and only 10 miles outside of the town of Ashland. Home to both an all-you-can-eat spaghetti dinner and pancake breakfast and less than a mile from the trail, it's a perfect place to pickup a resupply package and wash away the layers of dirt I seem to accumulate every day…
Beardoh & Sweet Pea
The all-you-can-eat pancake breakfast at Callahan's this morning necessitated a bit of a late start as we tried to correct our mistakes from the past--Exhibit A: Donner Pass, Exhibit B: Seiad Valley--attempting not to overeat and then immediately hit the trail.
Mind Games
Truth be told, there are far more days like this than not. It would be easy to think that thru-hiking is largely a stroll through a long succession of jaw-dropping scenery day after day, minute after minute, but alas the reality is slightly less glamorous. With no views to speak of, no pictures to take and mile upon mile of forest, broken only by the occasional logging road…
Blueberry Forest
Since crossing I-5 outside of Ashland, I've felt closer to civilization in Oregon than any other stretch of the trail so far. The best evidence is the number of consecutive road crossings, many separated by less than half a mile, that we seem to encounter every day here.
Blowdown
Far more often than not, the PCT is an incredibly well-maintained and thoroughly modern hiking trail that switchbacks its way up and down steep slopes, rather than taking a more direct and erosion-prone route. Today, however, the "well-maintained" part of that description was called into question.
One More Day
I spent much of today in anticipation of tomorrow: my first view of Crater Lake, a place I've seen only in pictures despite wanting to visit for many years. Thinking about tomorrow often ignores the task at hand, however, and today's task was to cover the remaining 21 miles of trail and to camp somewhere near the rim of the crater. That first glimpse of the lake would have to wait one more day.
Crater Lake
As recently as 8 days ago, today would never have happened. With yet another wildfire burning along the PCT, the trail was closed for several days where it travels through the western portion of Crater Lake National Park. Though the official PCT gets not a single glimpse of Crater Lake itself, inexplicably routing through lower forests…
Mini Matterhorn
The day after such an amazing highlight like Crater Lake can easily feel empty, a letdown. Though there may not have been anything quite as stunning as the day prior, the first 10 miles of the day had us rounding Mt. Thielsen, a dramatically sharp peak whose uppermost reaches conjured up the image of a miniature Matterhorn.
Frustration
Mentally and physically exhausted. That's how I began the day. For me, the surest sign my fatigue is setting in is my utter and complete lack of patience with anything and everything: the disgustingly dirty state of my feet, the rock that I stubbed my sandal on, hell, even the ant that is stupidly clinging to the mosquito netting of my tent as I packed up this morning.
Rebound
Walking out of Shelter Cove this morning after a coffee, shower, and laundry, it felt palpable that there had been a change in mood for all of us. A pleasant evening by the lake followed by a little extra sleep and the leisurely morning had certainly done me a bit of good, putting me back in the right frame of mind and looking forward to getting back on the trail.
Land of Lakes
The terrain today was something quite different from anything we'd seen on the trail so far. Like the deep woods of Maine, it was lake after lake after lake of varying sizes all day, with many separated by no more than a tenth of a mile or two. Perhaps not surprisingly, with the advent of so much standing water, swarms of mosquitoes were not far behind.
Three Sisters
Out of the trees and into the great wide open. That was the outline of the day as we traversed the heart of the Three Sisters Wilderness. Skirting just to the west of South, Middle, and North Sister mountains, the trail was a front row seat to each of these hulking volcanic peaks.
In the Heart of the Cascades
It stretched into the distance as far as I could see. With my back towards the Three Sisters, Mt. Washington, Three-Fingered Jack, and Mt. Jefferson towered over what looked like a boundless expanse of nothing but volcanic rock. Wave upon wave of fields were piled high with the stuff.
2000 Miles
It may have been a meager arrangement of sticks on the ground, but it was meaningful just the same. A humble spot on a trail full of highlights, it didn't quite seem fitting of all that this point represented but it did make for a perfect place to reflect on all the miles that brought us here. 2000 miles.
Mountain Relay
Today was divided neatly into thirds: 8.5 miles of uphill sandwiched between two 8.5 mile sections of downhill. It's unusual for a day to be carved up like that and for the downhill sections to have very few moments of climbing and vice versa. Regardless, the grade was always pleasant and steady and it made for easy going even for another long day.
Sins of the Virgin Voyage
Early this morning, just before leaving Olallie Lake I stepped out onto the dock to enjoy the view over the lake to Mount Jefferson bathed in the early light of the day. There wasn't a soul stirring anywhere and the lake was glassy with calm. I can't think of a better way to start a day.
Breakfast Eve
Everything about today's miles felt like a prelude to tomorrow's excitement. One more full day stood between us and the breakfast buffet at Timberline Lodge that so many southbounders have raved about, and when the feasting is all done Emily and my Mom will be there to greet us. I've tried for days to keep a lid on the welling excitement…
Mount Hood
The shortest of nearos began with a lot of anticipation, of Timberline Lodge, of the breakfast buffet, and of finally seeing Emily and my Mom. The breezy morning whipped up clouds of dust and sand that made it look like low lying fog in the photos we took of the sun casting its first rays onto the mountain.
Mother and Son
Saying goodbye to a pair of shoes doesn't seem like it ought to be hard. But when those shoes have just carried you nearly 1200 miles, it only seemed fair that they should at least be able to meet their successors face to face.
Mountain Mom
Just when I thought they were beginning to dwindle, there they were: the juiciest, most plump berries we've had on the entire trail. Blue and purple-hued huckleberries, bright red thimbleberries, and golden salmonberries with their equal mix of bitter and sweet.
Eagle Creek
The third and final day on the trail with my Mom was also our final day in Oregon, and what a fitting end it was. The final 15 miles in Oregon are spent by nearly all thru-hikers, not on the official PCT, but on the alternate Eagle Creek trail. Plunging down 4000 feet, the alternate leaves the PCT and follows the course of Eagle Creek along a series of waterfalls…
Washington, My Home
On the last day of August, we'd finally reached the last state of the trail, my now-home state of Washington. At only about 100 feet above sea level, the Bridge of the Gods that spans the Columbia River linking Oregon to Washington is the lowest elevation on the entire trail. For fans of the book Wild, it is also the place where Cheryl Strayed's adventure on the PCT came to a close.
What Happened to the View?
First and foremost, a big Happy Birthday to my wife Emily. It's the first birthday of hers that I can ever recall not being there to celebrate with her, and it's a painful reality. She is the most supportive and loving partner I could ever have hoped for and today is her day.
Indian Heaven, Indian Hell
When I woke from the night filled with the patter of raindrops on my tent, it was still dark. I lit my tiny alcohol stove to warm some water for coffee while I examined with amusement a new ache in each of the toes of my right foot. I wondered to myself whether this was what arthritis felt like, and set to the morning ritual of packing my backpack…