Day 9 – Dunsmuir

I was cold again last night. I wore my fleece to bed over my thin Merino wool shirt. The shirt is not working. It has holes in it and feels threadbare. It is is not loving me in the way that it used to. Am I the one to blame? Did I not care for it properly? Why does my description of this issue sound like a failed relationship. Hoo boy. I need to get to town. And when I do, I need to ditch this shirt for a new one. (Sorry, sweetie.)

I am so proud of my tarp for riding out the wind and rain last night. Placing rocks on some of the guy lines helped stabilize it, lowering the tarp edge to near ground level. I am getting better at this. My confidence is growing.

I pack up slowly after polishing up the blog post for yesterday. I will have a lot of material to post when I reach town today.

Good vibes

As I leave my campsite I bow to it: “thank you”. I generally feel vulnerable when camping by myself. Morning brings with it a sense of gratitude that begs for closure. I suppose I could thank God, but that doesn’t feel right. I feel like my safety is more closely aligned with this place. Honestly, there’s no explaining it. I am becoming some kind of Druid out here. My gratitude is genuine, though. Maybe that’s the most important thing.

Down the mountain I go. Mornings on the mountain have a “darkened cathedral” feel. I hike quietly, looking for good camera shots as they occur. The perfect moment for photos is when the sun is high enough to shine down diagonally through the canopy creating a sense of depth. It is a truly rare photo that can reveal the beauty of this (or any) trail. I try though. And sometimes, I get close to success.

It’s some people

I cross paths with into this older fella carrying a pretty hefty pack. His name is Al. He started hiking the PCT yesterday. He is heading south (opposite from me) to Yosemite. When I comment about the size of his pack, he says it is the bear canister in his pack that is making it look super big. (No, Al. Your pack is just super big.) I ask him how it is going. He responds, “Why is the trail beating me up so already?” It’s gonna get better Al. I’m counting on it.

Not long after that I discover a carefully planned trap right next to the trail. Trap? Aren’t those simply trekking pole impressions? No, these be ant lions, one of the more ferocious predators in the insect kingdom. They wait in the bottom of these little pits, their jaws pointing upwards, waiting for an unsuspecting ant or beetle to fall in, and then CHOMP.

Resupply

A mile down the trail from there, I discovered a trail log (the book kind of log, doofuss) in the grass next to the trail. As I sign it, a couple of young hikers walk up behind me. Their names are Buckle and Pocket Guac.

They are heading into town to pick up a package from the post office, to resupply for the next trail segment and to (what else?) eat as much greasy restaurant food as humanly possible. I am on a similar quest, so I ask if we can share the ride into town (about 5 miles). Buckle has phoned a trail angel, Kellyfish, who will pick us up and take us around town. Perfect!

Kellyfish takes Guac to the post office. His pack is damaged and the pack manufacturer has agreed to repair it for him. They are also loaning him a pack to use while they fix his pack. As Guac sorts this out at the post office, I go into the grocery store across the street. I am craving fresh produce. Minutes later we return to the car. Guac has his new pack and I have eight apricots to share.

We go next to the Dollar General for resupply. You know hiker food must be bad when the best supply source is the Dollar General. Kellyfish goes her way. The boys and I and spread out on the sidewalk to consolidate our supplies and repack. Guac and Buckle nibble on some of their new food, but I am saving my appetite for the restaurant up the road.

Revelations

In the store parking lot, I realize that my groin is unusually sore. After snooping around a little down there, I find a tick embedded in me. This is quite disturbing. The area is a little purplish. I dig out the tick, glop on some Neosporin and a band-aid and hope for the best. I call my doctor daughter with some questions. We do not reach any solid conclusions about what might happen next. She needs more information about the tick. Unfortunately, it has been sent to tick heaven, and it’s body is not in good shape. Anyway, ticks are now on my sh*t list, right next to rats!

With our junk food secured the three of us walk across I-5 to Yak’s for a mountainous sandwich/train-wreck, garlic fries and beer.

It is so much fun hanging out with these guys and learning a bit about them. I envy how they have decided to hike the trail together. It is not that common. Both had tried to hike the trail last year, but COVID shut that down. This year they got an early start and are now ahead of almost everyone. They know Sandman and Ninja and confirm that they are indeed trail beasts. But Guac and Buckle hope to catch Sandman and Ninja eventually. I suspect Buckle and Guac are only a day and a half behind those other two, and an equalizer awaits in Washington – enormous amounts of snow. It will be there still when all four of these young men arrive. And what happens after that is anyone’s guess.

After lunch I walk to my hotel for the night, the Cave Springs Motel, where I will catch up on this blog, eat more delicious town food, take a shower and sleep in a bed – all things normal people do every day. See you all tomorrow as I head towards Etna through some real snow at altitudes above 7400 feet. Until then, good night.

• June 10
• Starting mile: 1495
• Ending mile: 1500
• Daily PCT miles: 5
• Calories consumed: ~6000