Pacific Crest Trail 2017 - A Song of Ice and Fire

I chose the Summer of 2017 for my Pacific Crest Trail thru-hike attempt because it just fit into my schedule nicely. I could not have picked a worse year. The record-breaking snow levels from the winter and spring frightened me into delaying my start date by two months to mid-May, but the ice-covered Sierra and overflowing streams still presented great challenges. Additionally, I took a week off the trail to escape a dangerous heat wave in the Mohave Desert. And now, hikers face more uncertainties as a very active fire season has resulted in wide swaths of trail closures further to the north in Oregon. It's late August, and most aspiring thru-hikers have hitched a ride around the closed sections. Others have flip-flopped all the way to the Canada border to hike southward in hopes that the closures will reopen. Many others have simply quit altogether.

August 22 - Echo Lake mile 1092
to August 31 - Belden Town mile 1287

My ride out of South Lake Tahoe drops me off at the trail head off Rt. 50, and soon I reach Echo Lake. My plans are uncertain, one day at a time, but now I'm on my own, just like when I started way back in May at the Mexico border. But now there are far fewer aspiring thru-hikers remaining out here.

After entering into the Desolation Wilderness, I wait out a thunderstorm in my tent, then wander off the trail and get lost for a bit, and then pass Lake Aloha just before sunset. This time, getting lost proves to be a lucky break because the exiting storm clouds paired with the setting sun beyond the lake paints a surreal and beautiful orange landscape.

One of my favorite sunsets of all time

Lake Aloha, Desolation Wilderness

For the first time, I feel like I'm hitting my groove on the PCT. By starting my days early in the morning and hiking until about dusk, I'm able to knock out 20 to 25 miles a day without much discomfort. My cardiovascular system is as good as it's ever been after hiking in the High Sierra for the past month. My breaks are less frequent and of shorter duration. Things like balance and agility are also much improved. I don't dread the all day uphill sections. Crossing a swift creek on a narrow fallen tree seems less treacherous. The snow and ice is basically not an issue at all any more. My thoughts flow freely to pass the time as I walk. My daily routine is firmly entrenched, and by solo hiking, I feel like there is no limit to what I can accomplish. Humans were meant to walk; we are all wanderers by design and through evolution, and only in the past few generations have we as a species gotten away from that. I know this to be true now from my personal experiences.

Dicks Lake and Fontanillis Lake, Desolation Wilderness

The next resupply town is Sierra City, and I'm hoping to catch up with some other hikers there. I make my way through the beautiful Desolation Wilderness catching an occasional glimpse of Lake Tahoe off to the east. I pass by the ski resorts at Alpine Valley, Squaw Valley, and Sugar Bowl near Donner Pass.

At the Donner Pass, I enjoy a cheeseburger lunch while making an amazing realization. By my calculations, I can still make it to the Canada border this year. All I have to do is average 25 miles a day and hope it does not snow in the North Cascades before Halloween. I make a commitment to myself to go for it, and I share this commitment on social media just to make it real. That's just 1500 miles in 60 days, with an extra week built in for zero days. It's a stretch, but very doable, weather permitting of course.

Granite Chief Wilderness

Tinker Knob

Donner Party Memorial at the I-80 rest stop

With renewed vigor, I push on toward Sierra City, always minding that 25 mile-per-day pace, but not fretting if I come up short by a couple miles. I arrive in time for a late breakfast, a double breakfast actually, of pancakes and a breakfast burrito. After purchasing a few provisions and exchanging strategies with a couple fellow hikers, I arrive back at the trail late in the afternoon for an evening hike up to the Sierra Buttes, which turns into a bit of a night hike before I find a spot flat enough and clear enough to pitch my tent. I immediately regret forgetting to charge my head lamp batteries in town because I can barely see in front of me for the last hour in the dark.

Sierra Buttes night hike

I'm a couple days from the next resupply point where the trail passes through tiny Belden. On the way, I opt for a road walk into Bucks Lake for a burger and a beer. It cuts some trail miles as I loop back, but the added road miles actually increase my total for the day. Again, it's a bit of a night hike up the mountain before I spot a clear patch where I can sleep. This time, I've remembered to charge my batteries during my burger stop, very useful.

Middle Fork Feather River

I had seen familiar names on the registers at the trail heads, and I had heard from a southbounder that many of my friends had taken a side trip to Reno for a couple days, so there is hope that I'll catch up to them soon. I don't mind the solo hiking, and in fact, I rather enjoy it. But human interaction is necessary from time to time, and I'm happy to find many of them hanging out in Belden when I arrive there on the evening of August 31st.

Some of the hikers in Belden had been there for the past four nights. The quirky little town has a way of drawing hikers in and not letting go, with its hotel, restaurant, bar, store, free camping, and population of fewer than 20 rather eclectic souls. The residents inhabit campers by the creek or rent tiny cottages along the main drag through town. I can't help but wonder if this is some strange bizarro world, and I think this might be the actual Hotel California... you can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.

It's Labor Day weekend, and one of the locals, Shawn, has cashed his disability check and is throwing a party for all hikers in town and any locals from here or the nearby canyons. It's one of the strangest days of my life, but I'll save that for another story at a later time.

Hiker trash reunion in Belden, last of the NoBo's

September 2 - Belden Town mile 1287
to September 16 - Interstate 5 / Dunsmuir mile 1501

By Saturday at noon, I'm ready to get out of here. They are expecting an annual gathering of about 100 motorcycle enthusiasts who are said to not interact well with the hiker trash. Even though the temperature is 100F, I finally make my way up one of the longest and most dreaded ascents along the PCT. By this time tomorrow, I will have gained more than 7,000 feet of elevation, much of which is in treeless burn scar areas.

Farewell Belden Town, you weirdo!

The hike out of Belden is not only hot but also solo. It seems that the group that got hung up there this week is bailing out. Some of them have a ride to Quincy and plan to hike the Oregon Coast Trail. Others are flipping to a point north of the fire closures. I decline the offer to join them. Now it feels like I'm the very last of the true northbound thru-hikers still out here.

Two days later, I awake to an eerie site after camping near an old burn area. Thick smoke has settled into the valleys around me. I can't tell if it's smoke drifting in from far off wildfires or if there is a new fire nearby sparked by the previous evenings thundershower. Regardless, it's a bit unsettling, and I'm sure I'll have to make some decisions soon about how to handle the closures in Oregon, about 350 miles of closed trail, possibly more.

I pass the halfway point of the PCT and score a ride into Chester from a very cool state trooper. I decide to get a room for the night to shower and explore options. The next day at the library, Twister is there researching alternative plans with a couple other hikers. They are going to join the ranks of the refugee PCT'ers who have hopped onto the Oregon Coast Trail.

It's here where I learn about a new fire that has closed the trail in Northern California beyond the town of Etna. This, for me, is a game changer. I've come to terms that I'm not going to make it to Canada this year after all. I revert back to my original plan to go only as far as the I-5 near Dunsmuir where I can hop on the Amtrak and work my way back east. I guess I'll come back to California next year, if it's in the cards.

Evening thundershower, sweet rainbow

Apocalyptic scene

So I get a hitch out of Chester back to the trail head. I hesitate because of the ominous echos on the weather radar, but I go for it anyway. This is a decision I quickly regret. About two miles from the highway, I find myself surrounded by relentless lightning strikes with no place to take shelter. The skies finally let loose and I pull a tiny tarp over my pack and myself, crouch down, and wait out the downpour for about 40 minutes. I'm reminded of a similar situation on the Appalachian Trail in Virginia back in June of 2014.

Check out the volume and frequency of the thunderbolts in this clip...

From Chester, it's only 170 miles to the train station, but I believe there are still many great memories to be made out here. The next day, not long after entering the Lassen Volcanic National Park, I take a side trail to check out the Drakesbad Guest Ranch to see about the dinner buffet. I meet some pretty cool people there, and in the process, I score some unexpected trail magic: free dinner, a free late-night soak in the hot spring pool, and a free bed in one of the cabins... AMAZING!

A couple days later, I roll into Old Station late in the morning. I take advantage of a diner there and grab a light resupply at the gas station next door. I'm meeting quite a few southbound hikers these days, but almost no northbounders. I visit with a guy named Bandit who is heading south to complete his triple crown (Appalachian Trail, Continental Divide Trail, and Pacific Crest Trail). Bandit was able to get through Oregon before all but one of the fire closures, and he barely beat the California closure at Etna. Late in the afternoon, I start up along a significant waterless stretch, camping on a ridge high above Hat Creek.

The days are flying by, and I'm sad that this hike is coming to an end in just a few days. I stop in at the Burney Mountain Guest Ranch for a night, with dinner and breakfast included in the camping fee. On their computer, I book a flight from Portland to Kentucky, but not for two weeks. I receive a message from Madjac and his wife Jacque, who I met on the Appalachian Trail a few years ago, and I'm invited to spend some time at their family property on the Oregon coast at the end of my hike. I think I'll take them up on this offer, sounds nice!

A day out of Burney, I stop for an extended break at McArthur-Burney Falls Memorial State Park. The falls spill 129 feet from a spring fed creek into a magical misty basin. It rates among the most beautiful waterfalls I've ever visited.

Burney Falls

Later in the day, I notice flakes of ash falling on me. Later, I spot a wildfire on a neighboring mountain. Soon, a recconaissance plan circles the mountain, and I'm a bit spooked that I might be walking into the fire. A large C-130 flies low above me to water bomb the fire which seems to be only a couple miles away as the crow flies.

Here's a video clip of the fire with the recon plane off to the right...

The trail eventually zags away from the fire, so there is no imminent danger. Still, it makes me more comfortable with my decision to end my adventure soon.

A few days later, on the morning of Saturday, September 16th, I reach the service road along I-5, thus ending my hike at about the 1500 mile mark. I'm saving the remaining 1150 miles for a future adventure, probably next year, but we'll see.

Castle Crags, I'll start here next year.

Unwinding in Oregon
September 18 - 26

While the hike is over, the summer adventure continues on. My flight out of Portland is over a week away, so I've made arrangement to travel to the Oregon coast, taking Madjac up on his generous offer to host me. So after two nights in Dunsmuir, I hop on the pre-dawn northbound train to Albany, Oregon, followed by a shuttle bus ride to the coastal town of Newport. Madjac meets me there early in the evening.

We grab a few groceries and head up the coast to Otter Rock, where Madjac's family has owned a vacation home since the 1970's. His mother still lives there, in the original structure, and the attached A-frame serves as the guest house for family and friends. The A-frame was constructed when there was a risk that the main house atop a high bluff would be lost to the encroaching sea.

Jacque and Madjac prove to be great hosts, and we have a very nice visit. For me, it's the perfect buffer between trail life and heading back east to the so called "real world." On the second day of my stay, we're heading back to the house after a bowl of clam chowder at Mo's, and I spot a group of four backpackers finding shelter from a rain shower in front of the fire department. Madjac asks, "Do you know those guys?" After a minute, it hits me.... "Yes!" I cross the street and realize that it's a mix of different people I met along the PCT at different times, but now they are hiking the Oregon Coast Trail as a group. Our meeting here at Otter Rock is purely by chance.

The foursome is invited to spend the night with us at the A-frame, and in typical hiker fashion, they accept. Turning down trail magic is almost unheard of in the backpacking and thru-hiking community.

Madjac and Jacque, wonderful hosts!

Whale watching

Dreamcrusher, Moonwalker, Highlander, and Constantine join the mix

View from the A-frame's deck, beautiful!

Up that bluff to lunch

Soup at Mo's

Madjac with his mother, Eleanor

Devil's Punchbowl

The reunion with the guys is a lot of fun. The next day, they try their best to drag me along for the last week or so of their hike along the coast. Unfortunately, I don't have enough days before my flight to do this, or I would. So after lunch, they pack up and I watch as they head south.

Happy trails, boys!

After four days on the coast with my friends, there is one more reunion to be had before my flight. I've made arrangements to spend a few days with my Sierra hiking mates, Coach and Advisory, in Eugene. Madjac and Jacque need to drive over there anyway for supplies, so we all meet there at the Costco.

Coach's parents live outside of Eugene, and I'd met them earlier in the summer when they vacationed in their RV along the PCT just south of the Sierra section. They have offered up the same RV for my use during my days in Eugene, and it works out perfectly.

It's more good times hanging with Coach and Advisory, but alas, the trip is coming to an end. Advisory will remain in Oregon for another month until her visa expires and she returns to Australia. The two of them will try to sort things out as far as the future of their relationship which began when they met about day two on the trail back in May.

My plan, as of now, is to return to northern California next summer to pick up the PCT right where I left off. This has really been an amazing summer, and I'm so happy I decided to hike along the Pacific Crest Trail for four months.