The last two weeks has been another two centuries of PCT adventure. It feels like it was 1846 when I left home to drive back to the trail with my parents. Probably a year that was on my mind as my audio book of the week was ‘The Indifferent Stars Above’, a tale of the tragedy of the Donner Party that year in this very part of the world. Also a year with weather that didn’t cooperate with their journey. I’ve had some tough days, but pretty sure my worst day was better than every day during their winter adventures in the Sierras.
Returning to the trail after a couple weeks at home was part of the PCT intensity. It was incredible to see family at home, and another special part was the road trip back to California with my parents. We spent the evening in Ashland, OR after a day of driving, a special place along the PCT, where I’m hoping to stop in for some Shakespeare before beginning the Oregon section in August. We continued another 4 hours to Chester, CA, some 800 (trail) miles north of where I left the trail. It was so special to have this time with my parents, with beautiful and fond memories of our road trips as a family with my brothers, all around the West! We had lunch in a classic old-school diner in Chester and then I was off to the trail, through the northern reaches of the 2018 Dixie fire that devastated near-by Paradise. It was a little sad, but also happy to wave goodbye to my parents as they continued their road trip adventure towards Winnemucca, NV!
The next 50 miles took me through burned forests and still loads of snow, trepidatiously watching the skies for a week of unstable air and the possibility of thunderstorms daily. I spent the first night at a formal campground at Domingo Springs. I think the road was still closed to cars so the campground was me and another trip of PCT hikers, who also had flipped north slipping the Sierras and rejoined in Chester. It was Guidebook, Scout, and an Aussie who’s name slips my mind, but referred to the fact that we were now finding a surge in ‘Mossies’ as indeed the dreaded mountain beast, nearly non-existent in Southern California, were making regularly appearances now in this area. 🦟
I woke to rain on the tent, first real rain on my Durston tent I’d been using now since mid April. Luckily it was just a drizzle and by mid-morning it was mostly sunny again. Entering Lassen Volcanic National Park was more of the apocalypse with melted signs and blackened trunks. Given it was one of only 2 volcanoes in the Lower 48 in the US to erupt over the last 150 years, it could easily have been the eruption not the forest forest that left this landscape! Alas, the eruption was wrapping up a century ago, and the forest fire where the PCT enters the park was a little less than 2 years ago. I made a detour off the trail to a feature called the ‘Terminal Geyser’ which was really an intense steam vent right in a creek drainage. I decided just to spend the whole afternoon there, having this fabulous geo-thermal feature all to myself.
When I finally did continue, this apocalyptic aura continued, passing through more burned forest to a feature straight out of Yellowstone called Boiling Lake. The scent of sulphur in the air, milky blue-gray water and multi-colored shores. While we were traversing a National Park, once again it was completely devoid of people other than a handful of PCT thru-hikers that were being to percolate through. The road to this side of the park was still closed, and there was no viable day hiking access. It was honestly like having some of the beauty and awe-inspiring terrain of Yellowstone, yet free from hordes of tourists and again more of a wilderness experience than summer backpacking in the high country back home!
Most of the chatter among those handful for thru hikers was that putting up a tent in the ‘closed’ Warner Valley campground was the place to be for the night. And WOW, was that right answer! A fabulously beautiful place, picnic tables, a pit toilet and secure trash bins that were actively serviced (yes, this is absolutely magical to a thru-hiker midway through a week away from all services). While the signs said closed (and that means YOU PCT hikers, it said), this was a no-brained. The closure was ostensibly a liability mitigation as the recent forest fire left dangerous snags with big branches weakened and subject to falling on wayward tents. However, anywhere else to camp and the same if not greater risks and it was not difficult to locate a spot not directly under any trees, keeping the risk lower than crossing a street in any average city, my basic risk threshold. It was pure paradise that evening making dinner at the picnic table, strolling down to the cool clear water of the somewhat misleadingly-named Hot Springs Creek, and enjoying a T-Storm free evening.
The next day I planned to wind me through the rest of Lassen and camp just outside the park, about 18 miles ahead. However, the Lords of the PCT had different plans for me. I had a good start, thought I saw a black bear (who are out and about per trail reports), but turned out only to be an ash-covered deer. The first few miles were sanguine and beautiful, but FarOut had warned me of a tricky crossing over a creek that was normally an easy ford, but was running far two swiftly, and then 10 solid miles of flat forest boggy snow. The creek crossing was fine with a broad log to cross and the swiftly melting snow stairs on the far side were easy to ascend still. But the next 10 miles and 6 hard hours were no joke. Route finding was difficult and the snow was soft and easy to post hole through into the mud. My peak moment of the day was looking to get through a slushy/boggy mess and over a shallow one. There were twin fallen trees with a snow bridge between the two. I could tell the bridge was about to give, and *thought* I’d dropped my first foot on the wide spot of one of the logs below. But nope, it was towards the void between logs and I fell straight through. It was a bit of a slow motion collapse and only my ankle plunged into the pond while I hugged the log I was sliding off of. However, the left side of my face kissed the other log, and I landed on my left shoulder. No real pain, but it revealed a weakness in my new pack/gear set up. My left side had my Apple Watch, my Garmin satellite communicator and my new iPhone on my left shoulder strap and I hit all 3 at once. Luckily they all made it though with minimum damage but I’m so reliant on these things for navigation that if I broke all three, I’d be in some big trouble. Lesson learned: my iPhone now goes on my right shoulder strap.
I was annoyed, but not being hurt much more than a bruise, I was able to laugh it off. But a stark reminder how the smallest misstep on an adventure like this can end things very swiftly. And after all that, I found just 50 feet to my right a man made boardwalk over the bog and pond! Shaking my head, I continued along, eventually getting to 10 miles and a much needed food break above frozen Swan Lake with Lassen looming over my left shoulder. The beautiful day fell apart while I ate my ramen cold soak, and realized I needed to pick up the pace. I passed another frozen lake, and an abandoned ranger cabin still buried in snow. With about 3 miles to go before existing Lassen, the thunder was rolling and the rain started to fall. I made a rapid decision to find a place to set up my tent and had about 90 seconds to spare before the torrential rain start. It was the first true test of my Durston X Mid Pro 2 tent and it was a rockstar! The tension on my stakes was poor, but it was enough to keep me dry, although I needed earplugs for the thunder and the rain pelting my tent.
The next morning though, it dawned bright and sunny and I had enough time to dry out my gear before packing everything up. Up in the skies, Ashley had an early morning flight to LA to enjoy the preliminary events for the US Open PGA golf event at the LA Country Club. Miracle of the modern world, she used the on-board WiFi to ping me via my Garmin satellite communicator so I could wave hello as I saw the contrail of her plane pass overhead!
I had another 10 miles to go to finish this leg of my adventure, arriving just in time to check in at the Hat Creek Resort (aka, an old school motel) at 3pm. I had the type of shower I prefer to T- Storms and relaxed, as a new round of thunder rolled and I was glad to have a roof. I went to the humble cafe to order a chicken sandwich and there was another PCT hiker taking refuge, reluctantly planning to head back out and set up her tent in the rain. Since my motel room was spacious and my hiking buddy Erin was arriving the following night, there was a spare bed in the room (and honestly, enough floor space for probably 6 PCT hikers) and she was ecstatic to have a bed and dry room for the night. This is such a wonderful and typical story on the trail, the community of thru hikers helping each other out. We spend about an hour comparing gear and gear choices and shared stories of home. She was from Munich, one of the countless Germans on the trail this year.
Another section complete and the next round will be the first with a friend from home traveling a full section with me!