July 15 - I headed out from my spring-side campsite on the flume early as usual with the promise of pancakes on my mind.
I took the suggested alternate route and descended down into the lakes basin. I passed a few small, pretty lakes and arrived at Packer Lake. Packer Lake reminded me of a tiny Zaca Lake. It was round and mirror smooth, had people in row boats on it and a road running around it to the Packer Lodge and cabins. The cabins looked really nice. It would be a great place to take a vacation.
I walked the road to the Lodge but when I got there I learned the Lodge is closed on Tuesdays. This being a Tuesday meant there were no pancakes for me. I was very disappointed.
I headed back to the trail, walked by a few more nice lakes and creeks and eventually rejoined the PCT. The route didn't make me climb too terribly much to get back to the PCT and for that I was grateful. At the junction I met up with Gary and we hiked together until noon.
At noon we reached the "A Tree". The A Tree is a dead tree at a junction with 5 spokes formed by a couple of dirt roads and the PCT. Heading Out was there, too, and the 3 of us ate lunch and filled up our water at the spring. I should have filled up more water because the rest of the day turned out to be relatively waterless.
I said good-bye to Gary who hikes too fast and far for my comfort, especially now in the hot sun, and I stumbled and trudged along in the crushing heat. All the up hills felt so difficult. My feet slipped all the time on what I called rollers — potato-sized rocks on a bed of gravel. I had to bend way over to keep the weight over my feet so I wouldn't waste so much energy. I didn't have much energy to waste.
The trail was pretty through lush forest with flowers and along interesting, exposed volcanic hills.
At around 3 or 4pm I crossed a nice creek but failed to read the details in the guide book that this might be the last water for a long time. The Data Book showed more water down the trail. I became unhappy that the Data Book can no longer be trusted and started to realize that when a water source is described as seasonal, July is not its season. I hiked on to the next water source in the Data Book and there was no water there at all.
I camped with 3 miles to spare to get to the Quincy-La Porte road where PCT hikers were supposed to leave the trail due to fire closures up ahead in the Bucks Lake area. I went in search of the supposed seasonal spring a quarter mile away and found nothing. I had barely enough water to cook my dinner and none to wash my pot afterwards. I made some mashed potatoes with country gravy and chunks of cheese, hopped into my tent, my haven from the bugs, and set about the arduous task of eating hot food when you're already dripping with sweat. Eat a bite, rest and cool off, eat another bite, rest and cool off etc.
I slept well that night. In the middle of the night after the moon had set I looked out at the trees and heard nothing but silence. I felt happy I hadn't pushed on all the way to the road. I got to enjoy another beautiful night outside before my return to civilization would begin.
In the morning I completed the 3 remaining trail miles and reached the road. I could hear the sound of engine-braking trucks on the road all morning and anticipated that maybe there would be traffic on the road in case my cell phone had no service and I couldn't call my mom. Indeed when I reached the road I had no service so my new hope was to get a ride. But my first objective was to find water and I hoped the road wouldn't avoid it too much.
I found water a mile down the trail and filled up a gallon. I wasn't sure what the road walk would be like, if it would be dry, how long it would be, how long it would be until I got a ride. I figured I should be safe. It was very heavy.
The road was hard, so I tried walking in my crocs for a while with my superfeet insoles for support. The road was incredibly steep, about as steep as Old San Marcos road. It was painful. When the sun got hot I put on my umbrella. Sadly there was no phone service and no traffic going my way for hours.
I stopped once to make some lemonade and take some ibuprofen. I had been walking the road for 5 hours and only 2 civilians had driven by. I decided that I should think more positively and started telling myself my ride was coming around the bend any minute now. It'll be the next one.
One car went by and I stuck out my thumb but they didn't stop. Then a motorcycle. Then I could hear a car behind me and I stuck out my thumb. He stopped! It was a man in a truck I had seen early in the morning going the other way. I had walked almost the entire Quincy-La Porte road. I was only 2 or 3 miles from Highway 70 when he picked me up.
It was very nice of him to drive me all the way to Qunicy. He dropped me off at a shopping center where I went to Taco Bell and ate 2 7-layer burritos. I guess that's 14 layers. That was way too much food. Just because I'm hungry doesn't mean my stomach is that big. I'm thin now so when I eat a huge chunk of food like that my stomach bows way out. I felt horrible and satisfied at the same time.
I had phone service so I called my mom. She could pick me up at 4 after her physical therapy, so I walked down into old town Quincy and tried to hang out at a coffee place. They had wi-fi but no computers so I couldn't really do anything. I drank an Italian soda that formed a mini-volcano in the cup and exploded all over the place. Afterwards it felt like a mini-volcano in my stomach.
I walked back to the shopping center and camped out in the shade under the sign. I figured if I looked too much like a bum they could come and run me off if they wanted. I lolled about and waited for my mom to arrive. Finally she did and we drove the long and dangerous road toward Chester. If you're considering walking the entire way, don't. It looks too dangerous to walk.
I plan to take a couple of zeros here at Lake Almanor. The smoke here is incredible. We're in Fire Country for sure now. I hope to go into town and find hikers and have a nice rest before I press on.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Sierra City
July 14 - I got my usual early start at 6AM and set out to finish Section L. The trail went up a little bit then way down, from the 7000s all the way down to the 4000s. Along the way I saw Al and Nitro Joe, who I had seen all day the day before, too. I also saw some backpackers enjoying the more lush forest at the lower elevations.
The forest changed and there were oaks again. I felt happy seeing oak leaves all over the trail. I followed Milton Creek for a while and eventually crossed it on a large bridge. It was hot and humid but felt comfortable because I was going all down hill.
I took the suggested resupply route into Sierra City, bypassing the swimming pools the book mentioned at the crossing of the Yuba River. I figured I'd rather walk the back roads into town than walk a winding highway. The route went through Wild Plum campground, which seemed like a really nice minimally-developed Forest Service campground right on the river. You could get there early and pick a site on the river and swim and play all day.
Instead of that, I washed up at a water spigot and put on some deoderant and took off my smelly, beige, long-sleeved shirt. There weren't any mosquitos anymore, it was hot and it was well-shaded in the forest so I could be sleeveless for a while.
I walked all the way into town, passing some nice older people who were interested in my trip. It seems the summer population of the town is quite large, swollen by retirees. I can see why. The town is so cute I wanted to coat it in candy and pop it in my mouth.
Sierra City was definitely the best small town on the trail so far. The people were nice, the store had fresh fruit and the usual awful stuff for your backpack. I'm getting tired of my food. The restaurant I ate at had the best Cobb salad ever and an ice cream sundae that had me almost licking the plate where the chocolate sauce had pooled. The lady in the post office was really friendly, too.
I went to the post office first thing when I arrived and saw Gary. I hadn't seen him since before Lone Pine. He hikes really fast so I figured I'd never see him again. He was surprised to see me, the first person he'd known from before the High Sierras he'd seen. He continues to think he's far behind but he doesn't reallize how fast and far he hikes. He often puts in 35+ mile days. How he slowed down so much I caught up to him is a mystery.
I organized my belongings on the porch at the general store and realized I didn't need to buy any food to complete the next stretch. After I ate my salad and sent off my packages, Patch arrived into town. He had been ferrying people to the trail in South Lake Tahoe and decided to drive up to Sierra City to find his friends again. He offered to take people up to the Yuba River to go swimming so I jumped at the chance. I tossed my backpack in his car and went.
The swimming hole was wonderful. It felt cold but soon I got used to it. I swam with all my clothes, my shoes and socks and everything. I felt so refreshed that I loaded up a gallon of water (I no longer believe there will be water on the trail where the books say there might) and bid everyone good-bye and hit the trail.
I climbed switchbacks for 3 and a half hours up a huge mountain over cobbles and klinkers. Tiny Sierra City was far below and I was sad I had only spent a few hours there, but glad to be going again.
At the top of the mountain I met Heading Out. There was one little camp site there next to the creek so he let me have it and went further. I slept next to the creek and though about my strategy for the next day. The book suggested a lake-blessed alternate route with a restaurant along the way. Sounded good to me.
I slept to the whine of mosquitos but eventually they went to bed, too.
The forest changed and there were oaks again. I felt happy seeing oak leaves all over the trail. I followed Milton Creek for a while and eventually crossed it on a large bridge. It was hot and humid but felt comfortable because I was going all down hill.
I took the suggested resupply route into Sierra City, bypassing the swimming pools the book mentioned at the crossing of the Yuba River. I figured I'd rather walk the back roads into town than walk a winding highway. The route went through Wild Plum campground, which seemed like a really nice minimally-developed Forest Service campground right on the river. You could get there early and pick a site on the river and swim and play all day.
Instead of that, I washed up at a water spigot and put on some deoderant and took off my smelly, beige, long-sleeved shirt. There weren't any mosquitos anymore, it was hot and it was well-shaded in the forest so I could be sleeveless for a while.
I walked all the way into town, passing some nice older people who were interested in my trip. It seems the summer population of the town is quite large, swollen by retirees. I can see why. The town is so cute I wanted to coat it in candy and pop it in my mouth.
Sierra City was definitely the best small town on the trail so far. The people were nice, the store had fresh fruit and the usual awful stuff for your backpack. I'm getting tired of my food. The restaurant I ate at had the best Cobb salad ever and an ice cream sundae that had me almost licking the plate where the chocolate sauce had pooled. The lady in the post office was really friendly, too.
I went to the post office first thing when I arrived and saw Gary. I hadn't seen him since before Lone Pine. He hikes really fast so I figured I'd never see him again. He was surprised to see me, the first person he'd known from before the High Sierras he'd seen. He continues to think he's far behind but he doesn't reallize how fast and far he hikes. He often puts in 35+ mile days. How he slowed down so much I caught up to him is a mystery.
I organized my belongings on the porch at the general store and realized I didn't need to buy any food to complete the next stretch. After I ate my salad and sent off my packages, Patch arrived into town. He had been ferrying people to the trail in South Lake Tahoe and decided to drive up to Sierra City to find his friends again. He offered to take people up to the Yuba River to go swimming so I jumped at the chance. I tossed my backpack in his car and went.
The swimming hole was wonderful. It felt cold but soon I got used to it. I swam with all my clothes, my shoes and socks and everything. I felt so refreshed that I loaded up a gallon of water (I no longer believe there will be water on the trail where the books say there might) and bid everyone good-bye and hit the trail.
I climbed switchbacks for 3 and a half hours up a huge mountain over cobbles and klinkers. Tiny Sierra City was far below and I was sad I had only spent a few hours there, but glad to be going again.
At the top of the mountain I met Heading Out. There was one little camp site there next to the creek so he let me have it and went further. I slept next to the creek and though about my strategy for the next day. The book suggested a lake-blessed alternate route with a restaurant along the way. Sounded good to me.
I slept to the whine of mosquitos but eventually they went to bed, too.
Section L
July 13 - Despite the generous hospitality and good sleep I was happy to leave Pooh Corner. I didn't feel very comfortable there. My feet still felt like big swollen bruises, but I put in ball-of-foot cushions and my superfeet and that seemed to work well enough to hike all day. Plus I took a lot of ibuprofen.
The Section L trail was hot, humid and arduous. It went up and down. Of course trails do this, but it was like every few hours up to 8000+ and then down to 7000+ only to do it again. The first two times it seemed like I climbed down into the exact same dejavu valley with a creek and a bridge. The valleys were full of mosquitos and backpackers envious of my head net (the boy scouts really need to re-think "be prepared". That shouldn't mean carrying a Himalayan expedition on your back. It should mean reading the 5-day weather forecast and bringing only what you need, including reading the PCT guide book where it says under special problems that the mosquitos are bad here.)
The only interesting thing was the Peter Grubb hut which the Sierra Club owns and you can stay in if you want. If I'd have known it was so cool I might have been able to stay there. But I went by early in the morning so I didn't even go inside. I only learned from others how luxurious it was and how there was a book with stories of Peter Grubb who died at the age of 18 after doing a ton of interesting, adventurous things.
The darn Data Book and guide book seemed like they could no longer be trusted. Here's a tip: when the Data Book says "descend to a creek" on page 51, it doesn't actually go to the creek. It goes near the creek. So if anywhere in Section L you hear water, go get it. That was the last water for almost 6 miles until I crossed a river at a road near Jackson Meadows Reservoir. I ended up hiking 28 miles that day.
Not only was the water situation inaccurately documented, the ups and downs were not accurately documented either. The Data Book, which is simply based on the points of interest in the guide book that have mileage and altitudes next to them, made it appear that the trail went up and down a couple of times then generally trended downward for the last half of the 40 mile Section. Nothing could be further from the truth. It seems only the low points were documented and between each one was an undocumented mountain to climb.
After the two lush dejavu valleys the ups and downs seemed to dither around in uninteresting and rather sickened forest. The trees did not look healthy and had fallen all over the trail. I was constantly having to climb over logs. Some of the forest had been "selectively logged" which is probably part of the "Healthy Forests Initiative." While I don't think that these trees should be spared of the saw (sure, cut them down, they're half dead anyway), don't believe the hype about thinning the forest to make it healthier and less apt to burn. What they do is cut all the limbs off the desired tree then snatch away the central leader, leaving a pile of chopped up and chipped up debris all over the forest floor. If any forest is a powder keg waiting to go up in flames, it's a selectively logged forest.
I was so tired when I got to my camp and so mad at the trail and so bothered by the incessant mosquitos that I nearly started a forest fire myself with my stove. I had to pour out almost all the water I lugged from the creek a mile to where it was legal to camp on the trail to handle the situation. And the sharp sticks I slept on punctured my magic polycro ground sheet. That thin film of plastic has held up perfectly the entire trip so far.
The book had said a strong day hiker could hike the entire 38 mile Section L in one day. I'd like to meet that day hiker. I crashed that night with 10 miles left to go to Sierra City.
The Section L trail was hot, humid and arduous. It went up and down. Of course trails do this, but it was like every few hours up to 8000+ and then down to 7000+ only to do it again. The first two times it seemed like I climbed down into the exact same dejavu valley with a creek and a bridge. The valleys were full of mosquitos and backpackers envious of my head net (the boy scouts really need to re-think "be prepared". That shouldn't mean carrying a Himalayan expedition on your back. It should mean reading the 5-day weather forecast and bringing only what you need, including reading the PCT guide book where it says under special problems that the mosquitos are bad here.)
The only interesting thing was the Peter Grubb hut which the Sierra Club owns and you can stay in if you want. If I'd have known it was so cool I might have been able to stay there. But I went by early in the morning so I didn't even go inside. I only learned from others how luxurious it was and how there was a book with stories of Peter Grubb who died at the age of 18 after doing a ton of interesting, adventurous things.
The darn Data Book and guide book seemed like they could no longer be trusted. Here's a tip: when the Data Book says "descend to a creek" on page 51, it doesn't actually go to the creek. It goes near the creek. So if anywhere in Section L you hear water, go get it. That was the last water for almost 6 miles until I crossed a river at a road near Jackson Meadows Reservoir. I ended up hiking 28 miles that day.
Not only was the water situation inaccurately documented, the ups and downs were not accurately documented either. The Data Book, which is simply based on the points of interest in the guide book that have mileage and altitudes next to them, made it appear that the trail went up and down a couple of times then generally trended downward for the last half of the 40 mile Section. Nothing could be further from the truth. It seems only the low points were documented and between each one was an undocumented mountain to climb.
After the two lush dejavu valleys the ups and downs seemed to dither around in uninteresting and rather sickened forest. The trees did not look healthy and had fallen all over the trail. I was constantly having to climb over logs. Some of the forest had been "selectively logged" which is probably part of the "Healthy Forests Initiative." While I don't think that these trees should be spared of the saw (sure, cut them down, they're half dead anyway), don't believe the hype about thinning the forest to make it healthier and less apt to burn. What they do is cut all the limbs off the desired tree then snatch away the central leader, leaving a pile of chopped up and chipped up debris all over the forest floor. If any forest is a powder keg waiting to go up in flames, it's a selectively logged forest.
I was so tired when I got to my camp and so mad at the trail and so bothered by the incessant mosquitos that I nearly started a forest fire myself with my stove. I had to pour out almost all the water I lugged from the creek a mile to where it was legal to camp on the trail to handle the situation. And the sharp sticks I slept on punctured my magic polycro ground sheet. That thin film of plastic has held up perfectly the entire trip so far.
The book had said a strong day hiker could hike the entire 38 mile Section L in one day. I'd like to meet that day hiker. I crashed that night with 10 miles left to go to Sierra City.
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