Day 18 – A Pacific Crest “Trial”

I wake up out of a shallow slumber to hear footsteps approaching behind me. I turn over to find a hiker tromping down the path to our camp. The hiker has his head lamp on and is casting about in the dark, trying to find the narrow trail. He discovers our tents, but he does not see me because I am cowboy camping and have a low profile on the ground. I call out to him, but he does not respond. Instead he heads farther down the trail to where Ditty’s tent is. After some time, his head lamp goes away. I cannot tell if he sets up camp (sleeping on ground) or goes farther down to get water. Either way, I can’t help him, so I go back to sleep. I never learn who it is or what happens to him.

I wake a few times during the night and put my glasses on to see the stars. This never gets old. Later I awake at 3:50 and realize that the women will wake at 4am to break camp and be gone ASAP. They told me last night that they will probably be gone by 4:50. I arranged my things to so that I can leave quickly with them.

Hiking for the wrong reasons

I wake suddenly at 4:35. The women are about to leave. I make a mad scramble to break down my bed and get packed up. But it is no use. The women leave at 4:45. My meager headlamp is not suitable for night hiking. It is only good for finding things near me in the dark. I am ready to leave at 4:53, but I know it is too late to catch them. Since I am all packed up, I might as well leave anyway

The path is barely discernible, and I am concerned about mountain lions who prefer to hunt between 3am and 6am. I am sure I left something important behind. I stop twice to check for things I think I forgot. But, no, I have everything. Still, I do not enjoy this. This is not why I came out here. Normally, I wake at 5:15, write about the night for a few minutes, check out my plan for the day and then break down camp so I can leave a little before 6am. This works well for me.

The women are great, and I love hiking with them. But I have to hike my own hike. I will see them again, and I hope I get to hang with them and hike with them. But I need to do what makes sense for Doolittle.

After hiking until 6am, I stop, have breakfast, go potty and write a bit. The world finally seems right again.

Oh, dang, as I sit here writing this, a hiker comes up the trail. All my stuff is spread out on the trail (bad etiquette). I try to get up to move everything but he just steps over it. “Sorry!” I say. He says, “No worries, there are much bigger obstacles on this trail.” True, I think, and one of them is ourselves.

The Marble Mountains

Today looks like 21 miles again. The route, per usual, is up and down a lot. But this area has been compared to the Sierra Nevada area. That will mean a tough rocky trail and beautiful mountain vistas.

The marble mountains are named after their white stone. Some of it is pure white, but most of it has striations like this:

Here is what they look like as you look up at them. It’s like a 1200 ft wave about to break over you. We have this idea that mountains don’t change. But as a walked the trail under the marble bluffs, I found a microwave-size stone covering the trail. Normally people walk around these obstacles creating a new trail to the side. There were no footsteps around this rock. This rock has recently rolled to a rest here from the bluff above. I am maybe the first to see it here. “Please hold your rocks til I pass, Mr. Mountain!”

This section reminds me a little of the Trinity Alpa of a few days ago. The alpine meadows are gorgeous.

Surprisingly, the trail changes rapidly as the mountain rocks turned red and the air dry. I feel like I have been transported to one of those Clint Eastwood Westerns. With temps in the low 90’s the mountain becomes hostile.

I stop for water, and for what is one of the best ideas of the day – more sunscreen. The trail remains high, but it evens out and the trees fall away as I cross the rounded mountain tops covered with almost nothing but grass. I make good time over this terrain as a close in on camp. But the trail has other ideas.

The trail disappears

It starts with a series of burn areas – and all the blowdowns that go along with those. I am a little irritated by this, but my mood changes when I see my fourth deer of the day. This one hangs around to chat. The word is getting around among the four-legged set that Doolittle is on the trail.

However, as I round the next corner, the trail disappears.

“Bushwacking” is the term we use for moving through heavy undergrowth. But it is normally done off the PCT. What follows next was a solid 2 miles where the PCT becomes the worst trail I have ever set foot on. Combined with the blowdowns, I actually lost the trail twice. I slipped and slid down the mountain twice too, only being arrested by dead logs and more underbrush. Thank God, for my GPS. I was able to see generally where the trail was but I could not reach it because of obstacles or poor footing. After 45 tense minutes I find what seemed like the trail. My GPS confirmed it. I was finally heading out of this mess! My legs and hands are bloody with cuts. I am exhausted but relieved to not be lost.

In camp, the women see me coming and call to me, relieved. No one should be alone on that section, they say. I have a few choice words of commentary, too. We all agree, this may be the worst section of trail we have ever travelled. The lack of maintenance is shocking and dangerous. We have 14 miles ahead of us tomorrow as we head into Seiad Valley. We are all now a little apprehensive.

• June 19
• Starting mile: 1620
• Ending mile: 1641
• Daily PCT miles: 21
• Total PCT miles: 269
• Animals: 4 deer (2 of them tiny fawns)