PCT Day 32 – Distancing

The big question on my mind as I drifted off to sleep was: would the wind hold or shift during the night? Because the wind was mostly westerly, the smoke from the Rodgers fire would pass by us to the south. If the wind shifted more to the south, it would blow that smoke right up our canyon and onto us here at Benson Lake.

At 2am I woke to the smell of smoke. My throat was irritated but overall the smoke was not that strong. I went back to sleep, waking every hour to the same effect: the smoke was not increasing.

This morning I mention it to Bob. He sniffs the air. “Oh, I didn’t even notice.” I mention the large animal that stomped through camp before plunging into the stream next to camp. He didn’t notice that either. He kills me.

The plan

We are planning to hike only 11 miles today. Our former plan had us hiking 18 miles on the day we also picked up our resupply boxes from Tuolomne Meadows. Based on our current performance, that was simply wishful thinking (although it did remind me of several former managers). The new plan has us staying at Glen Aulin tomorrow night and then hiking five miles to pick up our boxes and then five or six miles after that. And that is why we are only hiking 11 miles today, so we can hike 14 miles into Glen Aulin tomorrow. Whew!

I swear, hike management is a big part of enjoying the whole experience. Without a good plan, you are going to have some real problems.

Benson Lake

Since we don’t have to be anywhere soon, I check out the lake again. There is frost on the ground between our camp and the beach.

About halfway down the beach is a couple of long duffel bags laying about 20 feet from the water. It could be some equipment left on the beach by the horse people. And then the bags move. It is a person cowboy camping on the beach. A head pokes out of the bag and one sleepy eye glares at me. I turn away and so does he.

Human flotsam

I see more movement at the far end of the beach. I think it is the naked lady from yesterday. She is wearing the same white hiking clothes I saw her in yesterday. I don’t want her to think I am a stalker, so I don’t go over there.

We leave the lake along the creek that feeds the lake, Piute Creek. The trees on the other side of creek are some of the biggest I have seen this hike. Bob stands by one for context.

Early hiking

The early hiking is hard. We have to climb 1900 feet to Smedberg Lake where we will get water and have a snack. After that it is another 1000 feet to Benson Pass. All this is in the shadow of the magnificent Volunteer Peak.

These long ascents are a grind. I try to stay “present”, but when present also means pain, I think about other things. After first falling into a nasty loop of self-criticism, I manage to escape by trying to recall all the Game of Thrones story lines. That works out a lot better.

There are too many trees around me. They obliterate the context for this climb. It’s another reason why putting my head down and zoning out works. There are some nice local moments though.

Trouble follows

At Smedberg Lake, the pack comes off and I get some water and look around until Bob arrives. The lake is beautiful.

Smedberg Lake

But within minutes, the blue skies become pale as smoke enters the bowl occupied by the lake. The smoke we had avoided yesterday has come for us, riding up the canyon on southerly winds.

When Bob arrives, I give him a few minutes to get organized before pointing this out. Moments before I take this picture, you could see mountaintops where now there is only smoky white sky.

Smoke hides mountains

I inform Bob that I am leaving. He is not quite ready. He tells me later that in the five minutes after I left, the lake really got smoky. What that also means is that our beautiful spot by Benson Lake May now be completely overrun with smoke. I feel bad for the people we left behind. What will become of them? I turn around and take this next picture 10 minutes after leaving Bob.

White-out coming

Fortunately, the trail up to Benson Pass takes a hard left turn away from the canyon filling up with smoke. It’s like those cop shows where the bad guy turns into an alley and the cops go running by. Halfway up to the pass is this pretty little alpine meadow. The trail is heading directly for the pass.

When Bob arrives we have lunch at the pass. At 10,200 feet it is chilly. But it’s good to be away from the smoke. I point to these rocks that look like tiger stripes.

Tiger rock

Late hiking

After lunch, we descend from Benson Pass to a shallow canyon that contains Wilson Creek. We follow Wilson Creek until it merges into Matterhorn Creek. Our campsite is a couple miles up Matterhorn Canyon.

I chat with a Nobo hiker name Fenway. He had to get off the trail for a couple months because of injury. He is back on trying to salvage as many miles as possible. I tell him to be on the lookout for Moving Target who is about 15 days behind me.

Fenway

Bob and I arrive in camp at 3:30. Bob suggests we rinse out our clothes in the creek. Leave No Trace principles frown on this kind of behavior, but since we don’t use any sprays or chemicals on our clothes or skin, our clothes just contain dirt and sweat. I think the creek can bear that once in a great while. We hang our clothes in camp to dry.

Camp along Matterhorn Creek

As I write these last few words, I hear something messing with our bear cans. If Bob shoots his air horn at it I’m gonna crap my pants.

  • August 28
  • Starting marker: 972.7
  • Ending marker: 962.1
  • Miles hiked today: 11
  • Total PCT miles: 388
  • Final questions: What is messing with the bear can? Should I go out and pee, or hold it? Will deer eat my clothes off the clothesline?

2 Replies to “PCT Day 32 – Distancing”

  1. Fenway. What a great trail name. Being a die hard Red Sox fan, and bearing that evidence in the form of a Boston B tattoo on my right shin, I can imagine that being my trail name. Or would it be what my grandson calls me? Papi.

  2. Here’s to safe travels and keeping away from the smoke. Hope your food and clothes are safe. Love reading your stories, eagerly waiting to hear what happens.

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