Zero Miles

We were told there are 9 places to eat within walking distance of our motel. As a thru-hiker in progress I am not exactly sure how far walking distance is. It is probably further than the McDonald’s across the street, but that is where I go for coffee at 5:30am. By 7:00am Terri and I walk a block to the cafe where we had dinner, but this time we are here for coffee, omelettes and oatmeal. We agree it is a beautiful day for a wedding.

When son Daniel and daughter in law Cindy arrive at our motel, we head back to the cafe. We have been here three times in under 12 hours and the wait staff is getting suspicious. After our final pre-wedding meal we return to the motel to dress. My suit fits looser than usual on my PCT starved body, but it will do. Terri apparently likes my thinner look and encourages me to quickly return to the trail to continue my disappearing act. Some people are never satisfied.

Lauren and Michael

The wedding ceremony is everything you could want it to be. It is in my absolute favorite place, the outdoors. Birds and butterflies are the theme and live monarchs are released during the ceremony. In honor of the 7/11 date there is even a working Seven Eleven slurpee machine.

Because it is so difficult to get back into the hiking groove many experienced thru-hikers advise against leaving the trail, even for a wedding. I, however, would not have missed this for the world. Congratulations Lauren and Michael!

As soon as the cake is cut, it is time for us to cut as well. Terri is taking me and Kevin back to where I exited the trail at Highway 3. We take turns driving and arrive at a motel in Stockton CA after midnight. We fall into our rented bed for a few hours of needed sleep.

My Three Sons

Zero Miles

After a relaxing morning with the Martin’s in Manhattan Beach, we drive to Crestline. It feels very odd to be back on Highway 18 in San Bernardino. I remember being so excited to be 1/10th of the way done with the PCT. It seems like such a long time ago. Now I am well over 1/2 done, yet here I am, right back at the 1/10th mark.

We check into the hotel, enjoy a meal at the local cafe and visit with relatives who have arrived for the wedding. Almost everyone who sees me has the same reaction: “Well you’ve lost weight, but I thought you would be thinner.” I am not sure how to take it. I have been working desperately to consume enough calories to keep up my weight, but the disappointment in my more than a skeleton appearance is puzzling.

My image of what would happen to my body on the trail was way off base. I was sure my legs would beef up with muscle disproportionate to my atrophied arms, leaving me very T-rex like. Where’s the beef? I thought my legs were circus balloons, with each day’s labor puffing in a little more air. It turns out my muscles build up according to the demand put on them and walking with a pack clearly takes less demand than I thought. Since the calorie deprived fat is going away and the muscle is not arriving, my legs now look like they belong on a stork, albeit a short one.

I have to remind myself this side trip to Crestline is not about me. Tomorrow my niece is getting married and that is why I am here. Perhaps I can redirect the focus onto her by pointing out that although thin, I thought she would be thinner.  Or maybe not.

Zero Miles

Today is Interstate 5 southbound on steroids. In just a few hours of flying down the highway at 75/miles an hour, I am wiping out all the northbound progress I have made in the last several months. My world is as upside down and shaken up as an Etch-O-Sketch being vigorously erased.

We spend the evening with Terri’s parents in Manhattan Beach. For every glorious item we are fed I remind Kevin not to expect this on the trail:  fresh fruit, vegetables, meat, homemade pie and ice cream. Even the soft beds we fall asleep in will quickly become a distant memory.

Homemade Blueberry Pie

Zero Miles

Kevin and I tackle our major shopping. Costco, Trader Joe’s and Walmart aisles are today’s hiking trails. The scenery is disappointing and we hike northbound, eastbound, southbound and westbound. In fact I think traveling in circles is our most common and frustrating route. We are resupplying for so many days it is impossible to comprehend how much of each thing we need. We just throw random items in the cart with confidence that Terri will fill in the missing parts when she tapes up and ships the boxes.

Kevin points out that we should not have eaten before shopping. Starving, we would be happily grabbing anything, but with stomachs full and satisfied it all just seems like the junk food that it is. I remind Kevin not to think of it as food, but rather calorie pills to be swallowed but not necessarily enjoyed. How is that for selling it?

Resupply Box

We repackage and box up 6 days of food to carry on our way to Saied Valley. We box 3 days of food to ship to Saied Valley, that will get us to Ashland. In Ashland we will purchase 5 days of  food to get to Crater Lake. We box 4 days of food to ship to Crater Lake so we can get to Shelter Cove. We box 6 days of food to ship to Shelter Cove so we can make it to Ollalie Lake. We still need 6 days to get to Cascade Locks.

We will also need to ship food to White Pass to get to Snoqualime Pass to get to Skykomish to get to Stehkin to get to Manning Park. Although our life blood, it is all about as interesting as King James’s: Abraham begat Isaac; Isaac begat Jacob; Jacob begat Judas.

We fall asleep exhausted, surrounded by the trash, boxes and the collateral damage of trying to do too much. Terri will have to recover from the mess later. Early tomorrow morning we leave for southern California.

Zero Miles

Kevin, my youngest of three sons, will be joining me on the trail after the wedding. He plans to hike through Oregon and Washington, to the Canadian border. We just have a couple of days to go over his gear and purchase our resupplies. Luckily, Brian has offered Kevin the use of his gear. Since Brian and I worked together planning our PCT hike, I am very familiar with the gear.

Food is tricky because there are not as many good resupply locations in Oregon and Washington. My plan was to make multiple resupply boxes in Ashland, and ship them forward. The same strategy applied to Cascade Locks. Now that I am home a few days, Kevin and I are trying to do as much of the shopping and packaging as time will allow. Terri will then have to ship for us, and probably complete some additional purchases.

In addition to my trail planning work, Terri has a short honey-do list that involves changing the oil in the Pilot, fixing the garage door, and replacing a leaky faucet. Number one son Daniel helps with the first two items.

It is great to be home, but also very strange. For some odd reason, not walking has me absolutely exhausted.

Mile 1534 to 1557

I wake to the sound of a galloping horse, which turns out to be Deadfall Lake slapping my shore with wind blown waves. I take my sweet time making coffee and gathering my things. I have 23 miles to cover, much of it flat and down hill. Terri is leaving home after work so I do not expect her at Highway 3 until late. About 8:00pm by my calculations.

Shasta photobombs selfie photobomb

As I meander I keep seeing Mount Shasta poking its bald frosted head in my scenery. It reminds me of a time I asked Daniel to take a few pictures of Shasta and he ended up taking something on the order of 400, completely wiping out my camera battery. I am beginning to understand the problem. In this part of California no matter what you try to take a picture of, Mount Shasta will shamelessly photo bomb it.

During the entire day of walking I only encounter one other hiker. She is an exhausted southbound solo section hiker carrying more than twice my load. Her pack looks like something I might carry as a guide on a typical Fitpacking trip, but at this moment cannot comprehend. I wish her well and keep moving. Terri has always had to wait for me at trailheads. Today it will be my turn. I hope to sleep a few hours before she arrives.

Highway 3 please!

As I reach Highway 3 there are several cars parked on the shoulder. The one attached to a boat has its hood open with three men leaning in, scratching their heads. It reminds me of every boat trip we ever took with my Uncle Bob or brother in-law Mike. Something mechanical always demands the attention of someone mechanical.  I notice the last car in the lineup is a Honda Pilot, very similar to ours. I ask a woman standing nearby “Is that your Pilot?” She replies, “No, that is your wife waiting for you.” Now I was not fooled into thinking I am married to a Honda Pilot, but it did reveal I am in fact a fool. How did I get the pickup time so wrong?  I have been meandering thinking I am three hours early, when I am over an hour late. Terri is more forgiving of me than I am of myself.

In Weed we stop for old fashioned milkshakes and food. Terri drives me home, probably wishing the car windows were rolled down.

View coming to Highway 3

Mile 1518 to 1534

Heading to Deadfall Lakes

I wake in the night and exit my tent to pee. In the darkness I notice the outline of a tent. I have a new neighbor. It can’t be Senior Whiskers as he typically uses a bivy, which is pretty much just a water proof cover for his sleeping bag. Whoever it is, at least I am not alone.

I quickly return to my dream state, only to be woken by an unexpected show. Apparently the good Lord remembered I had not had the opportunity to observe any of the Fourth of July pyrotechnics, so he gathered up all the left overs and detonated them directly over my head. The lightening storm is amazing with single, double, and triple flashes followed immediately by thunderous roars. Some of the roars last so long I am certain the thunder machine has broken and that a repair crew will need to be called in.

Up on this very high ridge I am quite pleased to be near a small clump of trees. If the lightening decides to touch ground I hope it will chose one of these trees and not my Benjamin Franklin combination lightening rod / trekking poles that are currently holding up my Tarptent. After an amazingly climactic crescendo, I hear a polite round of applause, which turns out to be rain on my Tarptent.

Deciding when it is safe to exit is a tricky game. Just when I conclude the inordinate time is inordinate enough, there is another flash bomb, resetting my game delayed clock. I eventually decide to defer to the better judgement of my neighbor. When he or she decides it is safe to hike, so will I. After all, the stranger is likely to be taller, providing me an extra measure of safety.

Eventually, lightening or no lightening, my body informs me it is time to exit the tent and dig a 6 inch hole. Once my duty is complete, I return to discover my neighbor’s tent has been struck by lightening. How else do I explain its sudden transformation into a large arching log, clearly in the shape of a tent? I slowly begin to question the wisdom of deferring this decision. I clearly need to find water, the neighbor not so much. After a lengthy discussion we agree to separate.  We promise to write each other, but both know we never will. After packing up and heading out, I refuse to glance back, afraid to discover it is no longer even looking at me.

As I hike this razors edge ridge, it is clear this is no place to be during a lightening storm. Looking around I see no one. Without a mirror I cannot see the only idiot out here. This trail is my only reminder that other people exist. I will follow it toward Highway 3, Terri’s pick me up location.

At a spring I am surprised to find Senior Whiskers. He did not have the patience to zero in the Castle Crag State Park. He left a few hours after I did and camped a few miles behind me. He apparently passed my camp very early without either of us knowing. He was hiking during the lightening storm and was actually knocked to the ground.

We hike together to Deadfall Lake. After a rest, he pushes on to get more miles. I am doing the opposite. I am slowing down so I don’t have to sit all day at Highway 3 waiting for Terri. I swim in the lake, rinse clothes, and relax.

Camping at Deadfall Lake

Mile 1498 to 1518

Entering Wilderness

It is Independence Day and I will celebrate it by walking independently. In other words – alone again, naturally. I wake at 4:00am, drawn towards the beckoning light of civilization. It is attached to a building of significant convenience – the one with fixtures and indoor plumbing. After making a sizable contribution, I return to finish packing.

As I exit camp under headlamp Senior Whiskers wishes me well. It is possible we will see each other again on the trail, but I doubt it. Everything about the trail seems transient, especially the relationships. I have enjoyed his company and will miss him.

Wild Flowers

My mission, however, is not to miss my niece’s wedding, which requires that I get over this monster elevation known as Castle Crag and the Trinity Divide.  I will climb from 2,200 feet to over 6,600 today. I work my way through various state park trails until I rejoin the PCT and start my climb. It is hot and humid, but I just put down my head and go. There are few water sources. One is the sight of a recent fire, which appears to have been bombed with red fire retardant. Now there is a sign saying DO NOT DRINK THE WATER. I notice it does not suggest what I should drink.

I eventually find a seasonal spring, which is really nothing more than a hole the size of a water bottle dug out under a clump of grass so the water trickles off the exposed hanging roots. It takes a while in the scorching heat, but I capture and filter 3 litres. It will have to get me through hiking, dinner, breakfast and hiking to the next seasonal source.

I find a tent site the required 20 miles in. My hike to first water tomorrow, however, will be over 10 miles. It’s funny how when you camp next to a stream you hardly drink anything, yet when you dry camp your mouth immediately feels like Death Valley and you want to irrigate it enough to grow rice.

Although I am camped in the wilderness I can hear repeated gun fire in the distance. I assume someone is illegally celebrating the Fourth, or I am closer to Oakland than I thought. Either way, I am tired enough to sleep without a care.

Castle Crags

Mile 1482 to 1498

I wake at 4:00am and notice Senior Whiskers is on the move. He grabs water from the creek and heads up towards the trail, before I have even figured out where my VIA coffee and stove are. We have 17 miles of trail, including a long straight up climb towards Interstate 5 and it is going to be hot.

Now thinking logically, if a 17 mile trail goes straight up it must end on what, the moon? In which case shouldn’t it be Intergalactic 5, or Outerstate 5? An unexpected cloud cover makes the climb more tolerable than expected. In the distance I keep seeing Mount Shasta.

I am not exactly clear on the physics, but I assume it involves rolling logs, elephants and a team of immigrant laborers. Regardless of the rate I hike towards it, Mount Shasta moves away from me at the exact same rate. Now before you start in about optical illusions, let me say I have become quite an expert on walking. I have walked almost 1,500 miles on this trip. I have successfully walked to and passed all kind of rocks, trees, creeks, hills and yes, mountains. For example, I can no longer even see Mt Baden Powell, or Lyle Peak. But this Mount Shasta has me trapped in some crazy orbit where I can see it from a variety of angles, but I never get any closer.

Sacramento River

Crossing the Sacramento River and Interstate 5, I head towards Castle Crag’s campground. The park is a confusing jumble of trails and roads, but I eventually find the gas station/store. Other thru-hikers are here and we take turns trying to out calorie each other. I consume a roast beef sandwich, Fritos, a quart of chocolate milk, a root beer, an orange juice, Pringles and two pints of Hagan daz Ice cream. It is still not enough calories to make the opposite of a dent in my body.

I pay $3 to stay at the hiker campsite.  On the way I also pay for and take a quick shower which seams silly given I have no clean clothes, but it feels great. Tomorrow I will hike on alone. Senior Whiskers is taking a zero, but I need to make it to Highway 3 in 3 days where I hope to be picked up by Terri. Lauren’s wedding is coming up and it is the last logical place for her to get me in time.

Mount Shasta Again?!

Mile 1455 to 1482

I wake at 4:00am and start making coffee. In the distance I can see a headlamp. Senior Whiskers is up and packing. Since he is hiking stove-less he will beat me on the trail by at least a half hour, but I am guessing he will be groggy without the hot caffeine.

Green Tunnel

The first part of the hike is beautiful on an exposed rim, but even before the sun is up it is radiating significant heat. This could be a nasty one. Once over the rim and back in the trees the temperature drops but so does the quality of the views. For the first part of the day there are lots of seasonal streams. It is getting very hot, but we have plenty of water and reasonable shade.

At the McCloud River we setup on opposite ends of the bridge in the shade. We snack, rinse clothes, soak body parts and wonder how long we can afford to stay. Tomorrow we should reach Interstate 5, but at what time depends on how many miles we do today.

After the McCloud River, water sources become fewer and farther between. We target Trough Creek and have to bushwhack our way through the overgrown and under maintained trail. I make dinner and rest by the pretty but tiny cascade. NoTent, who I hadn’t seen since Kennedy Meadows North, shows up. He asked me to thank Terri for posting some message on his blog.

Trying to get a few more miles we push on to Squaw Valley Creek. The water is great but there really is nowhere to camp. It doesn’t matter. We are done. We throw down tarps and bags and squeeze ourselves into a couple of small ledges.

River

Mile 1430 to 1455

I wake at 4:30, make coffee and eat a giant smashed cinnamon bun. I catch and filter water right before it trickles into a disgusting pool. Timing is everything.

Mount Shasta in the Morning

We hike about 4 miles to Clark Spring where we catch BLT, Klutz and Mountain Goat. They slept here last night and are now heading out. Senior Whiskers and I filter water and rest before pushing on to Moosehead Creek which is 11 miles ahead. It is too far to get to and avoid the mid day heat, but it is the next place with water. At Moosehead we try to sleep in the constantly moving shade, but the ants, flies and other critters have different ideas. Other than having water, it is a pretty miserable place.

We hike earlier than planned, from boredom as much as anything. Once out of the trees the wide open views remind me of the Blue Mountains. In the trees, however, it is the long green tunnel. We hike another 10 miles to get to Gold Creek, the next reliable water. It is after 10pm when I arrive. I drop my tarp and bag in the dark on what appears to be a combination gravel road, turn around and junk heap. I go to sleep hoping no one wants to do any of those three things on me tonight. The snorting sounds of deer trying to get by me to the water wakes me several times. Perhaps they are just miffed that I am sleeping next to the “No Trespassing” sign. I check again. It says nothing about sleeping, so I nod off well within my legal rights.

Similar to the Blue Mountains