The circle of protection I had installed around my tent worked like a charm. Frisky deer, inquisitive bears and bloodthirsty Druids all kept their distance.
It’s Tuesday. This is my eighth day on the trail. It’s time for my weekly selfie.
The Runup
I have been hinting about the Sierra Buttes for a few days. Today I will approach it from the north, swing up onto its western shoulder and slide down across its southern face. It’s an all-day affair.
I get cell service and the digital world sucks me in (as it is designed to do.) This area is loaded with lakes a lots of locals use them. They look pretty from up here.
But this is what had my attention
Hot Take
One of the disturbing things I learned during my online escapades this morning is that the heat wave I thought would be over by today is not. Projected high is 93. For reasons I have already described, I don’t enjoy this. Time to get serious. I am at the base of the Buttes. Let’s go up. It’s 1200 feet. I can have lunch halfway up.
The early trail is shady and promising.
There are a couple cool lakes up here. This is my favorite photo of the day. This little canal connects two lakes. I collect water here. I eat lunch at the exact same spot I used 3 years ago.
I lay down on my back. It’s not very comfortable. I roll over on my side and fall asleep immediately. It was only for 15 minutes, but still it was strange.
This is what the Buttes look like from the Western side.
Wind Walker
Slow and steady I go up. There is a beautiful cold spring at the top. But what I am most stoked about is the traverse across the southern face. It was one of the highlights of my 2022 hike. Pictures do not do it justice.
As the trees thin the Buttes loom over you on the left. On the left the ground drops away 3000 feet to California Hwy 49. You walk the space between as the wind swirls around you.
Afterburners
It’s really fun at first, but the heat this year, coupled with the exposure start to wear me down. It’s two hours across this slope.
I have made it across by 5pm. By that time I’m pretty crispy and ready to quit for the day. The trail drops down into the trees and there is a camping spot three miles above the road to Sierra City. In the morning I will go into town, collect my food box and find a nice place to spend the night.
But I am getting frustrated by the trail. It’s supposed to be going down. Why is it going up? With every step my anger burns. It feels good to yell at the mountain. Soon I am raging like Lear at the elements. A madman. It’s funny. Now I’m laughing like a maniac. My water is the same temperature as the air: 90F. It offers no relief.
Then it dawns on me. I missed my 3pm snack! I stop and wash down some kind of chocolate bar. I start feeling better. I can do this! The trees are just ahead.
There are a lot of gnats in the trees. They are slow so I wait until there are at least five of them in front of my face. Then I knock them all aside in one swat. I feel them hit my palm, so I know I am connecting. This is unnaturally satisfying.
I arrive at the campsite. It is a slum. I would rather stay at Alligator Alcatraz.
I snap. The hot buggy forest. The janky campsite. My disgusting dinner. Enough. The heck with this stupid mountain. I bolt for town. Sierra City is 4 miles away. I am going there for something cold to drink and someplace normal to sleep. I can be there in 2 hours.
It normally takes me 45 minutes to go 1.5 miles. I cover the distance in 30 minutes. The trail is soft and smooth. It wants me to go fast. I pause at the spring. It’s only 80 feet off the trail. I laugh at these ingrained trail habits. What is a spring compared to an ice cold Coke? I charge ahead.
My pinkie toe hurts. I don’t care. Let it fall off. What are those stupid toes good for anyway? Jamming into bedposts and doorways.
The trail fights back all of a sudden. Rocks appear underfoot. They slow me temporarily, but I am not going to succumb to these tricks. I am stomping down the trail at unsafe speeds. I don’t care. I am stomping down the trail like Trump through the White House.
I hear traffic on the road. Why does the trail not go directly to the road? It’s right THERE. It’s another trick. The trail will never reach the road! Some wizard has enchanted it. But I am aware of this tricks so they holds no power over me.
One final obstacle. A swarm of bugs rises from all sides of the trail. I now know how Pharoah felt amidst the plagues. I plow through them, breathing hard, mouth agape. It’s a goal line stand. I swing wildly knocking half of them aside. The rest assault my face. At least ten go in my mouth. I gnash at them like they are sour gummy worms. The rest go to the back of my throat and are expelled out my ears like so much jet wash.
I reach the road. I am unstoppable now.
1.5 miles to town? It will not be necessary to hitch. The National Guard could not stop me. On a whim I throw me arm out for a hitch. A white truck goes by, then a silver car, then a blue car. None stop. They disappear around the bend. A few minutes later the silver car reappears. It has come back for me!
When It’s Right
The driver will take me to town. I ask her to take me to the resort with cabins. “Do you mean the Buttes Resort?” “Yes, that sounds right,” I say. “I’m the owner,” she says. BOOM! What?! The resort is full so she lets me stay in the efficiency above the office.
The Sierra Hotel is serving fajitas tonight from the front porch. I have one shrimp one and one beef one, one beer and 7 glasses of water. The restaurant has two dogs that make the rounds in the restaurant and stare at the diners food. One of them lays down under my table.
Total miles today: 20 (17 normal and three rocket assisted)
I met an old friend in town today, but it is too early to say more.
Highway 49 is famous for the role it played during the California gold rush. It spawned the name 49ers.