I arrived last night to find the Cabin Creek Trailhead deserted except for one empty truck in the gravel parking lot. Alas, no camping partners (sigh). But the campsites were spacious and bright – much better than the cramped dark spots in the wicked forest. I set up my tarp for the first time. There had been clouds in the evening, and some looked like they were dropping rain.
There was a toilet at the trailhead, too! Unbelievably, I did not have to go. I tried all the usual tricks, but nothing materialized. The bathroom was wasted on me. (A real groaner, I know). I tried to write for my blog, but I was so tired that all my words were terrible. “Just get the facts down, Dave, you can polish it in the morning.”
I pitched my tent in a large open space above Cabin Creek. The creek produced sounds sounds that were truly mysterious. Along with the normal popping, gurgling and hissing sounds water over rock and log were the human voices and animal cries. Yes, it was fascinating, but in the dark aloneness, I decided quickly to go with my earplugs. Better to slam the door on my scaredy-cat brain.
Discombobulated
In the morning I survey the entire trailhead area as I munch on some breakfast bars. I was still the only one here. I had placed my food bag in the toilet building overnight to keep it from bears. It was pretty safe from humans no one ever came by. Still, who goes out of their way to store their food near the nasty open toilet. The things you do out here without a second thought.
I am slow getting out of camp (7:15), and the first thing I do is head the wrong way on the trail! I realize it after I have gone half a mile. But no harm done. I still have plenty of time to get to Dunsmuir. The battery in my phone had died last night, so I blame the error on the fact that my phone is charging in my pack and my navigational aids are out of reach. I retrace my steps and am ready to start again. It is now 7:45.
This trail section is one of the best yet. It is carved into the ravine above cabin creek and follows it for miles. This river that haunted my dreams last night is now my daytime companion. What luck. I am in a very poetic mood, working on an extended analogy about the river being like an exuberant crowd tumbling through the gates of the sports arena into the narrow streets after a close victory by the home team. They laugh and shout and sing. It never comes together.
A surprising development
After I have walked for more than two hours in this way, my phone chirps at me from my pack – it is fully charged. I pull it out to check my progress. The trail app is not updating correctly. It says that I am no where’s near the PCT. I check a second app, but it confirms the what the first had revealed. I am not on the PCT. I am on the Cabin Creek Trail!!! I am 5 whole miles from the PCT.
Obviously, I am shocked. How should I feel about this? How would you? Despair, laughter, self-criticism, anger, nonchalance. My hopes to reach town today evaporate like the mist rising above the creek. Seventeen miles would have been do-able, but there is no way I can do 27 miles after my late start. On top of that, there is still a five mile hitch into town after that. As I walk back to the PCT, I consider my options.
I just met a girl named Maria
Surprisingly, I run into the kindest couple, hiking this remote trail – Paul and Maria from Orange County, CA. They recognize me as a PCT hiker! They assume I must be enjoying a voluntary detour from the PCT? I like the sound of that. It changes my whole outlook. Is this just a happy mistake? Is there a lesson here? Had I not enjoyed my morning immensely? Thank you, Maria, for opening a widow of hope on my darkly clouded mind.
Recalibration
I get back to the PCT at noon. I sit to have lunch and plan my strategy. Now that I have accepted my fate, it works out better for town activities. I can get into town by 11am instead of 6pm and will have more time for rest, resupply and eating before getting back on the trail. I can take a long nero. [A zero is a full rest day with no hiking, normally in town. A nero is a day hiking and resting, normally in town.]
There is nobody else in the world that cares about my schedule, so I decide to let it go and simply enjoy the hiking that lies before me today. The trail does not disappoint me. Here are some of the sights on the real PCT toward Dunsmuir.
In early afternoon I find that I have cell service for the first time in three days. I call Patti and wish her happy birthday. I also respond to a blog comment just to let people know I’m not dead.
As I see it
As the day ends I find a couple suitable campsites. Should I take the more exposed one with a better view and less chance for rats, or the sheltered one in the woods. Here is what I chose.
There are some ominous clouds on the horizon. I am not done setting up the tarp when the first rain drops fall. Oh boy. Am I too exposed up here? Rain I can deal with, but high winds turn a tarp into a sail. The tarp rattles and shakes, but the stakes hold. Before I go to sleep I manage to upload a blog post (the reception is good up here). Then I put my phone away and stare at tarp above as it rolls like one of those fan-blown tube men that people use for advertising by the road. As the rain dances on my fluttery tarp, sleep comes for me.
- June 9
- Starting mile: 1483
- Ending mile: 1495
- Daily PCT miles: 12
- Daily “detour” miles: 11
- Total miles: 123
Mt Shasta view!!! 👍
a happy mistake 🙂