Bear Creek

A good day depends of an early hitch from Quincy to the trailhead. It’s Saturday and people are weird on the weekends. As I walk to the corner for the road to the trail, I call Patti. It is 6am here but 9am back home in Florida.

When I turn up the road to the trail, we are still chatting. A car drives up, I put out my thumb, they pull over! The old magic is back! I hurriedly say good bye to Patti and climb into the vehicle.

The drivers name is Moheb. He is from Afghanistan but has been living in the US since 2016. He currently lives in the Bay Area and is in Quincy on business. He has three kids – two born here. He says proudly, “Those kids are Americans. The rest of us are Afghan-American.”

Back To It

My target campsite is 18 miles away. People report that the trail is littered with dead trees that have not been removed. Yes, the result of another wildfire, this one from 5 years ago. The trees die in place and then fall over the next decade or two. I am not too upset about these trail conditions. Thru-hikers are still making it through this area. I can do it to. This is not my first rodeo.

The early trail is soft with pine needles. Temps are in the low 80s (feels like Florida 70s). I make good time for a while.

By 10am I have hiked almost 8 miles. This is a great pace but the temps are now in the low 90s and I am really starting to flag. I would like some really cold water, but the water that flows across the trail is like tap water.

Here are some photos I took. I don’t remember why.

Someone thought it might be fun to torture hikers by putting books by the trail that no one wants to read.

Oh wait. There’s a Zane Grey book here! I stand corrected.

I sign the trail register.

The Blahs

Look this is one of those days were the heat just makes hiking miserable. I don’t have many pictures because the second half of the day was a slog.

One thing stands out. I was collecting water at a stream at about 2pm when I hear someone walk up behind me. Except it’s not a someone. It’s a something. A year old bear cub with long tan-colored fur ambles up the trail and climbs the bank above me.

“Hello, little bear,” I say. He bends his head down to see about my voice and we stare at each other for a solid second. Then he takes off out of sight behind the bank. I am .7 miles from Bear Creek. Good name.

Here are some more photos.

To pass the time, I have been counting the blowdowns this afternoon. A blowdown is any tree you have to duck under, step over, straddle, or walk around.

There are supposed to be more blowdowns in tomorrow’s section. Some hikers report that crews are working there with chainsaws, so I am not going to fret. It may not be so bad.

Feather River

I make it to my desired campsite beside the Middle Fork of the Feather River. It’s pretty but hot. It’s 85 degrees in my tent as I write this. I hope it cools down soon.

August 11, 2025

Number of blowdowns counted today: 195. Of these half are easy, 10 are hard and 1 is flat out scary.

Doolittle observation: Just because you can talk to animals does not mean they want to talk to you.

Miles hiked today: 18