Saturday, September 3, 2011
The 30-mile leash - Day 16
I was feeling better on our departure from Ashland; a proper zero day on my belt, and fresh feet to charge the dusty, lackluster trail toward Crater Lake. I was prepared for 25-mile days back to back, but after an evening stroll out of town with 'Sags,' I found myself already past my mileage on night one. The 'set-up' as I will call it, brought a breakfast at Crater Lake Rim fully with reach, and unleashed the madness for more and more miles.
Day 15 was a nearly a full marathon at 25.5, camping in the duff next to slate-colored lava rock. From there Happy JO told me I was only 60 miles from the rim, with two huge waterless stretches separating us from the end. The animal was born--I used the waterless sections of the Oregon desert to enable us into our first and only 30-mile day of the trip.
We were up at 5:15am on Day 16. Happy JO rolled back the tarp as I taped my toes and heels like every other day so far. We downed our granola and powdered milk, and began the death march --two water stops that day and a guaranteed third only if I made it the full 30. I was already nervous, siked out by my own ridiculous goal-setting. How quickly the thru-hiker mentality returns.
At lunch I downed my last 5-hour energy, and a few espresso beans. Physically I was drained, my legs hanging from my torso like a rag doll, but mentally I had begun to focus on nothing else but the miles. It took me back to ultramarathon days: worn down, thirsty, and in pain, but never losing focus on the finish line. The hours whizzed past, Happy JO and I ceased any talk. We were aiming for the distance and zenned out like two silent monks, unable to even contemplate a meaningful conversation.
At last we arrived at Snow Lakes Trail junction--the sun was just beginning its descent below the mountains. A cool breeze blew over us as we jammed mashed potatoes into our faces. I slept like a rock that night, so tired, so content, so proud by the depth of my mental focus. We were set up to reach the base of Crater Lake by the end of the next day. I could almost smell the bacon...
Song for this section is Metallica's Bleeding Me. "Can't stop to save my soul. I take the leash that's leading me." I'm totally responsible for my physical destruction, but it feels so good to conquer the trail.
Heading for Crater Lake (30 miles away) with nothing stopping me now, but me!
Sticky
Friday, September 2, 2011
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
The Hiker Essentials - Day 11 - Mile 220
Happy JO and I, although not technically thru-hiking this year, live by the premise that maximizing calories is the way to success. When hiking 20-25 miles per day, your body can burn 4000-6000 calories. You can never carry enough food to replenish the deficit on the trail, but you can try. Then again, if you carry too much, you risk hurting your feet from all the extra weight. The time to replenish your calories and rest your feet is in town.
We walked into Ashland's Callahan's Lodge with a few tablespoons of powdered milk and three melted chocolate-covered espresso beans. Almost perfect planning. We had just enough for our 65-mile trek from Seiad. One bag of Trader Joe's fried green beans turned out to be rancid, so we buried it during the climb out of Seiad Valley. Some colony of giant California ants are partying like crazy right now! But later on, I was lucky enough to find a rogue sourpatch kid on the trail, thanks to some fumbling thru-hiker in front of me. Yum!!
We had mailed a box from Portland to Ashland, containing all our food for our five-day journey to Crater Lake. Although I had also included gauze, lotion, and a razor, I did not anticipate the blisters I would need to baby over our 'zero' day. Thanks to Freya and Marty in Portland, I was sent a mondo bag of Epsom salts, Phineas and Ferb band-aids, and a lollipop. The Epsom salts went straight into the jacuzzi tub and I bathed in them twice so far. Ahhh. My feet should be perfectly prepared for the last leg of our trip.
We had an awesome dinner of pasta and salad (gotta keep the scurvy at bay) last night, and a filling breakfast of omelettes and sausages this morning. After a quick trip downtown to the library and the outdoor store, we scurried through Safeway and grabbed bread, cheese, salad fixins', beer (that's the hydration part) and two pints of Ben & Jerry's.
Happy JO has performed minor toe surgery and iced his knee while on a marathon channel-surf. My work emails are done, clothes laundered and I've just about gotten all the dirt out from under my nails.
Next section is 108 miles --the final stretch to connect my footprints across a 646-mile section from northern California to the OR/WA border.
Song for this section is "Can't Sleep" by Above & Beyond. Five-hour energy drinks are great for getting you up the tough climb, but definitely not advisable after 2pm.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Flying Nymph with Mt Shasta - Mile 180
The Great Pancake Challenge - Day 9
I looked down the counter at the line-up of Yosemite Sams talking gold prices. They were all eating eggs, bacon and hash browns. I glanced behind me at the table of hikers--"Sags" and "Slim" were chomping on breakfast burritos and omelets. Yogi's guide book warns hikers not to attempt the challenge if they're going to hike that day. Hmmm, I had the huge, hot climb and 15 miles planned. If I ruined my day, I'd never get a zero rest day in Ashland.
Visions of a relaxed jacuzzi tub in Ashland won out. I balked and ordered the short stack -- and I didn't even eat half. :( My burger, fries, salad, milkshake, 3 beers, hot dog, and a bag of gummy worms the day before had caught up with me.
The short stack was buttery golden excellence, and it helped fuel me a full 18 miles that day. Next time I'm in Seiad Valley, population 350, and I've driven there, I'll try the Challenge. This scenario will probably never happen, but I guess I should never say never.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Seiad Valley - Day 8 - Mile 156
While we lounged on the grass at the Mid-Valley RV park, we watched our trail friends fumble into town as the thermometer hit 90 degrees. The last 56 miles was tougher on me than I expected -- rocky contours and steep climbs mixed with thick vegetation and dense forest. Tomorrow's 4500ft climb out of Seiad Valley is notoriously hot and dry. It's probably even worse after stuffing your face with pancakes, but I'll do my best. (to enjoy the cakes!)
Monday, August 22, 2011
Welcome to the State of Jefferson
We are already 11 miles ahead of schedule, not an easy feat to achieve in the course of 5 days. I was convinced that my year of desk-surfing and gourmand-living in Portland had rendered me unfit for massive miles on the trail. Little did I realize that all it would take was a brief brush with the backwoods hippies of the State of Jefferson to motivate me to walk farther.
The State of Jefferson was a 1941 proposed state combining the most rural counties of Oregon and California, who wanted to secede from their states' rule. The movement continues through its own public radio station, license plate frames, flags, bumper stickers and policy arguments on private land rights. On the PCT, hikers may encounter elements of the movement--mining remnants, eerily cheery family retreats in the woods, living off the land, etc.-- from as far south as Dunsmuir, but my awakening came 9.5 miles from the road to Etna.
Day 4 we had planned to hike 25 miles, my first attempt since last summer. As we approached the endpoint--a campsite in the woods just below the pass-- I heard a child's playful scream. Hmmm, ok, so we'll be sharing, I thought. We turned the corner and I spotted two couples, barefoot, blonde and disheveled, with two rug rats, none who had probably brushed their hair or bathed. Ever. The children's faces were caked in mud, and the women, clad in homespun sweaters and tattered skirts, had hairdos more authentically natural than dreadlocks--like ratty Marge Simpson bird's nests, swaying from side to side with every tilt of the head. There they stood, like 3D "Pig Pens," sleeping bags in tow.
I crossed the stream, noted the multiple hammocks in the trees, and considered stopping for the night. That is, before two thru-hikers who had already arrived, Little Bird and Squirrel, informed us that the family had 17 goats on the ridge who would soon be joining us. "They like to sniff around the tents, but you can just shoo them away."
I excused myself by saying that we werent much for animals, and quickly cameled enough water to push on. As we walked another mile and a half, I saw hundreds of goat tracks in the trail, and I envisioned the grubby children riding on the goats for miles from their secret commune to the campsite.
I slept like a rock after my big 26.5 miles, and by 10am the next morning we had picked up a ride from the first car going into town! The driver was a transplant from Florida--a mid-lifer who sold his business, all his assets and bought a cabin in the woods. He powers his life off a generator, pipes water from the spring, and goes to town once a month to do his laundry and run errands. To make a living, he mines for gold.
He talked about land rights, the self-righteous environmentalists, the best way to mine for gold, and how lucky he is to enjoy the natural surroundings of "the valley." I thought the same thing as I stared out the back of his truck bed, watching the mountains get smaller and smaller, the road wind closer to town, and sensed the sweet smell of freshly-brewed coffee and my first shower and cell signal in five days. Wilderness just isn't for everyone. Right then, I happened to be more concerned with pizza.
The people of Etna have been fabulous, and well worth the stop. Next up - Seiad Valley, 56 miles away and home of the Great Pancake Challenge!
Until then, Sticky
Introducing Chaf and the Gang--Day 3, Trinity Alps Wilderness, Aug. 20
On Day 1 Happy JO and I scaled 4500 ft through Castle Crags wilderness; epic views, azure skies, claustrophobic heat, and bugs attacking like dive bombers bound for my earlobe. We careened toward the ridge line, a white strip of dusty trail, surrounded by tall pines and manzanita bush, and the heat index soared. My face turned a non-flattering shade of rosy pink, and it occurred to me, as sweat dripped under my sunglasses and over my cheeks that I might not be in shape for this adventure. Ummm, what was I thinking coming out here again?
We met our first thru-hikers coming from Mexico around lunch time--Mark, or "Slam-clicker" as Happy JO dubbed him, takes no more than a few minutes once he's in town to find a hotel, slam his door shut and lock out the hiker trash. A young blonde-plaited woman named Tails has her dog, Skeeter, with her and has hiker-named him "Heads." "Half-step" from SF who is trying to catch her daughter on the trail, and Yard Sale from Mexico rounded out the bunch.
So back to my self-doubt. I thought the fatigue in my hamstrings and quads was bad until I felt the skin on my inner thighs burning. Chaf city. It had rubbed raw during my olympic climb and even my underarms were beginning to feel the flames.
On our retreat to a duff-filled camp we gazed at the snow glistening on Mt. Shasta, as I smeared a contact lense case full of bag balm between my legs and into my pits. Ahhh....a sense of relief.
Day 2 we meandered along contours and topped out at 7200ft, while I grinned about my first-aid job--strips of gauze and climbing tape secured in my most sensitive areas. During our lunch of beef jerky and cheese wedges at Porcupine Lake, Happy JO showed me how fly larvae camouflage themselves by building mobile cocoons of pine needle and twigs. Fun trailside ecology lesson.
After a night spent barricading the tarp tent from ants, we encountered No Pain, the first black thru-hiker I've met. With a smooth, relaxed style and a buttery voice like Isaac Hayes, he's retired special forces, now a veteran of the PCT and has completed the Appalachian Trail seven times. When we talked east coast living, I mentioned our 6-yr tour of duty in Baltimore. "Dang," he said, "I've lived in DC my whole life, and I don't think I could survive Balto." "Well," I replied, "I could never survive the AT, so we're even." We found a mutual level of respect; I could have listened to his stories all day, but No Pain has no plan -- so we may never see him again.
Tonight's campsite is nestled under pine trees with a bubbling spring and colorful bloom nearby. Our packs are getting light and fast as we approach our first town stop--Etna in 34.5 miles. Already we're counting every last calorie in our stuff sack, and I'm dreaming of pizza, a burger and Ben & Jerry's.
This section's song is "Sweet Sensation" by Chase & Status. "...The music that we play we'll ease your mind." With my headphones bobbing down the trail, the chaf subsides, the mosquito cloud dissipates, and my mind eases onto the trail as though it never left.
-Sticky
Friday, August 19, 2011
Lunchtime calisthenics with a great view!
Thursday, August 18, 2011
The well-worn hitching spot of Dunsmuir, CA
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Amtrak southbound
My starting weight is 121. Base pack weight is 12 lbs (this is with no food or water). I've packed light this year, since Etna, Seiad Valley and Ashland are calling for 0-10% rain for the next few weeks. Yet, the lightweight rain jacket (Mountain Hardwear, compression stretch) and Patagonia regulator zipneck fleece are sitting is PDX ready to be sent if the weather turns. Thanks, Garth! (whose food bag on the AT weighed twice my BPW. :p)
The 2011 thru-hiking "pack" has made it up to Etna, CA. (It's been a tough year, WAY too much snow. Most recorded snow in Washington ever.) We'll hit the stragglers of the pack -- and then crush them. (no, not really, I'm just trying to get the bravado out now instead of using it later against my best interests.)
I'm fearful that I didn't pay enough attention to packing; I'm sure I forgot something. How could my pack be only 12lbs? I almost convinced myself that I didnt need underwear, but came to my senses and packed them in my frantic preparation....right next to my glitter strips (silver band-aids). If I had to choose, I'd take trail bling over underwear.
I cut myself in between my toes this week...who does that? And now I'm worried that it will give me problems as the heat rises and the skin rubbing begins in my Adidas behemoths. The thing I fear most is the hot, dry weather's wrath on my feet. 328 miles in 2.5 weeks is fast if you've not already been hiking from Mexico.
Time for an IPA and some Sponge Bob Popsicles. I heard they sell them in the cafe, and personally I think I need to put some calories under my pack straps.
More from the Mecca of Dunsmuir,
Sticky
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Desert costume '11
This year I'm using an REI Flash ultralight 30 backpack. My GoLite Jam from last year gave me too many problems--the foam padding buckled and bowed out from my back the more I cinched the side straps. Although I've seen this happen to many others on the trail, GoLite refused to take it back or fix it. I'm excited to try out REI's competition.
Starting with ladies Adidas Supernova Sequence, size 9.5 wide--I've gone through the drill and decided that I value my toenails enough to wear a shoe 1.5 sizes too large.
New purple running shorts (my signature item on the PCT) by Puma with a nice soft liner inside, and Fit Sok poly stretch cushioned socks were purchased at FitRightNW. Love those guys. Great selection.
Now onto food boxes tonight. Train departs for Dunsmuir, CA at 2:30pm Wednesday PST....more soon.
Sticky
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Heading to Dunsmuir, CA
Time to start linking up the disparate parts of my completed trail...The plan was to complete WA this summer, an easy jaunt from Portland to Panther Creek Campground, then 289 miles to Stevens Pass, where I first met Happy JO in 2002 and hiked to Canada. But this year I can decide if i want to handle snow, and well, I don't. The reports so far say snow in the trees and 6-7 ft of it at Indian Peak Wilderness. I'm not even sure that the snow will melt at all this year.
And so, a return to the hot, dry, dusty ridges of California--the stuff I really enjoy. It's time to hump water, slather on the sunblock and work on my tan. More updates coming soon.
Sticky
And so, a return to the hot, dry, dusty ridges of California--the stuff I really enjoy. It's time to hump water, slather on the sunblock and work on my tan. More updates coming soon.
Sticky
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