Before nodding off to sleep, we all agreed to NOT set wake up alarms. We figured we had earned the right to sleep in. When we did the PCT, Paul’s alarm would go off at 0530 each morning whether we (I) wanted to get up at that time or not. I was having none of that this trip. So guess what time I wake up…on my own no less? 0530!… Whilst Paul continues to softly snore (if that’s a thing).
No matter, Jody and Brian are already up and moving about. We rally for breakfast and pack up a bit, tossing our packs in our tents for a “quick” 4.62 mile slack pack to Starlight Beach. We figure it will take us 4 hours (on the long side) to go there and back (9.24 miles in total). On the map it doesn’t look that hard, and the guide says we only gain 666 ft, so we grab some snacks and a liter of water each and head out.
Our plan is to check out Starlight Beach which is at the extreme west end if the island and head back. Once we get back to Parson’s Landing, we will take an hour break or so, have lunch and the pack up for the 6.5 mile flat road walk back to Two Harbors for our next camp spot. Why would we do this, one might ask? Well, 16 miles for a day (for us) isn’t that bad, but mostly because this is a popular camping destination with decent shore fishing, so it gets reserved often and fills quickly. Had we realized that, we would have booked sooner and therefore booked a second night for Parson’s. Word to the wise, if you plan to do the TCT, book two nights at Parson’s if you plan to go to Starlight, as there is no camping at Starlight Beach, or really anywhere to stealth camp from what we’ve read, and/or what we saw…but it can be done, if you are creative. But because we had called an audible and were only able to reserve a few days in advance we were out of luck. As it is, we will have a long day, but we’re not too concerned.
Leaving our campsite and headed across the way and down the coast
We can see that we have a hearty initial climb, but it looks like once we make the climb (around 600ft), the trail will/should hug the coast line then descend down to the beach. The morning was not as brisk as we would have liked, but the skies were clear and the fresh sea air was invigorating. A slight breeze wicked away our sweat as we hiked.
Not that “hard” was an understatement. Thank goodness we were slack packing it. This trail had even more arduous ups and downs than the day’s previous route, which was rated as a Level III trail (Oh to be in in awesome PCT hiking shape, like we were by Washington) It wasn’t so much that the trail couldn’t make its mind up whether it was going up or down (only 666 Ft, my ass), but that the tread was exhausting mentally. Especially when you were descending. It was like we were on a very slow rickety roller coaster. You had to concentrate where you put your next foot fall, and you could NOT let your mind or eyes wander (a feat that escapes me with regularity), unless of course you didn’t mind taking a grimy hard slip and fall. With each near fall, came the quickening of the heart rate and a bit of contortion to regain your balance, followed by shortness of breath and either a quick prayer of thanks, or an internal chiding of “See what happens when you lose focus!”…usually accented with a few “colorful” words.
Starlight would be the far Cove. You can see the trail near the upper left. What you don’t see is a super steep climb to about the elevation you see of the “hill” above the trail in the upper left. This would mean we “climb” up and then all the way down to the beach and would back track this and the rest of the route we have already done back to Parson’s Landing…and another 6.5 miles from there. No thank you. Not today.
With Starlight Beach in view and one more mile to go, half of which was straight up with the other half straight down and therefore visa versa on the way back (no exaggeration) we figured we were “close enough”… we do live near the beach anyways. If it were to have been our only trek for the day, I’m positive we would continued all the way to Starlight Beach proper, and not so bothered by the tread. Around we turned and back to Parson’s we trudged…after a snack and doing our best not to make eye contact with each other secretly hoping none of us would make a “rally cry” and therefor goad each other into completing the trek to Starlight.
By now I had discovered that trying out new footwear was not such a great idea, as the shoes I was wearing had created a bruise on the top of my (right) foot where the forefoot of the shoe flexed. Each step of the steep downs resulted in sharp pain, similar to that of a stress fracture. Jody offered to switch shoes with me, but I declined namely because we didn’t have to have two ” broken ” people, and we didn’t have that much further to go. (She has since earned the trail name of “SideKick”) Once back at our campsite, which took the full 4 hours, we slowly packed up and took a leisurely lunch. All of us were worked and frankly were dreading the forced march back to Two Harbors. We all agreed that in hindsight sight we would/should have planned this out better and spent the two nights at Parson’s Landing, allowing for proper recovery from our unique experience to Starlight. Not to worry. Brian reminded us there would be BEER when we got to Two Harbors. With proper motivation, anything is possible!
Not gonna lie, those 6 miles (as Jody said), “Sucked!” Road walking, is never really much fun, but add 9 previous miles of seriously challenging terrain, and your feet start talking to you! Good thing the weather and scenery was superb.
Were it not for the awesome views of secluded coves with bright blue clear water through which you see the bright orange Garibaldi fish (California’s State fish) our feet would have talked us into hitching…which we didn’t tell them was not an option as there is little to no traffic on this road. Frankly if the road was not so high and there weren’t signs posted for the “Hikers to stay on the Road”, we would have detoured into one of said “private coves” and had ourselves a swim, or at least a foot soaking.
“Hikers Stay On Road”
The closer we got, the louder became the siren call of Ice Cold Beer! Our pace quickened like horses to the bar…n. We can see where we want to be, but we must weave in and out of each cove, some deeper than others to reach our intended destination. My feet are talking loudly to me now. I have tightened and re-tightened my ill performing footwear several times by now, and am now sensing the infancy of a blister forming on the inside of my left heel. I know this feeling, and know immediately the cause of the “hot spot”. The thin siding of the insole has folded every so slightly upon itself and needs to be removed or smoothed over (with duct tape). As I stop to make the repair in hopes of avoiding the full blossom of a blister, I remark to Paul, ‘I can’t believe these were so poorly designed’, to which he replies, “Are we talking your feet or the shoes?” ‘Ha, Ha, real funny. Probably both”, is my reply, as I apply duct-tape to the inside of my left shoe…just in case. We arrive in time for Happy Hour, which for us is aptly named and stay through dinner…at the bar, as we are not confident that if we walked to the campground and set up, that it would be “safe” to boil water and re-hydrate our dinners.
All set up at the Two Harbors Campground
Turns out it was a good idea, as somewhere along the way I lost a sock, and have absolutely no recollection of setting up our tent…even though I was there. Damn you Brian!
We survey the beach and find our designated “campsite”. It has a 3 foot tall rock wall that stretches about 10 feet, which is good cause here at Parson’s the West wind howls in the late afternoon. We set up our tents, which without the wind breaks, would have proved quite challenging, prepare our Mountain House dinners, skip the fire and are asleep before the sun sets fully.
It is 0858. Just as we find our seats, the massive diesel engines start up and at 0900 we shove off. Phew! That was close! Funny thing. We haven’t even begun to hike, but the adventure has begun.
So years ago (circa 2012), we figured it would be a good idea before we actually began major planning for the PCT to see if attempting a thru-hike was really something in our wheelhouse. Based on its close proximity, we chose the 
As our last night’s sleep was fitful, we awoke to our first sunrise of the entire trip squeaking through the trees. Maybe it was good that our mats had gone flat and we were woefully uncomfortable. We packed up, giddy with excitement and like horses poised for the barn, trotted down the trail.
Oh ya, we had thrown out the “worthless” guide book at Echo Lake, and just had the trail map from the 
At least we smelled better…people pay good money for that piney fresh smell. As we sat, Paul spied what looked like a trail sign 100 yards away. Maybe it could tell us how much further we had to go. Paul hurried ahead, and upon reaching the sign, began to laugh.
We awoke to find, pleasantly, that we had not been consumed nor molested by a bear. Our food was left untouched, and our feet somehow slid into our boots with very little coaxing. Ah, the wonders of Ibuprofen, time off the feet, and cold water.
When I catch up to Paul, I find him actively putting out a fire off the side of the trail in a pile of cuttings. (There are many similar piles on both sides of the trail for nearly 1/4 mile. They are from the Forest Service’s thinning of the trees to improve the health of the forest, and ironically, to reduce available fuel in the event of a wildfire). At first I thought, geez it’s so hot, why in the world would you be setting a fire? Then it was, who’s the numb-skull that didn’t extinguish their fire fully from the night before? Paul told me that he had been walking along, looking for a good place to “detour” (off the trail) to do some “paperwork” when he saw an active fire with flames nearly 2 feet high about 10 feet off the trail. He looked around to see if another hiker was around, and/or if maybe it was a spot of a previous campsite (maybe the fire was the result of a campfire not completely extinguished). Neither were the case. Interestingly, I had noticed, just before I had reached Paul, a white truck, on a dirt road some 100 ft below the trial heading rather fast down the road away from the pass. I figured we were happily nearing the pass. Now, our “Spidey Senses” were beginning to tingle. This fire was near a road, in a fairly secluded area with neatly stacked piles of fuel. The air was hot and dry (not a cloud in the sky), and the once still winds were now gusting and beginning to blow with regularity. We concluded this was highly unusual and sadly all signs pointed to an arson fire, for it was “perfect” wildfire conditions. As we were finishing putting out the fire, several other hikers passed us without a pause, even though small tendrils of smoke continued to rise from the once red glowing embers and the air distinctly reeked of a forest on fire.(Turns out that when we did the PCT in 2014, we also ended up putting out a growing fire that had been started by a lightning strike) We considered calling into the Forest Service, but had no idea exactly where we were, and/or how to get a hold of them. Dialing 911 was out of the question, knowing that the call from our cell phone would first go to the CHP, and frankly the current danger was over. So, we ambled on.
We found a fairly flat place to set up, leaving a “mere” 14 miles to traverse the next day into Tahoe City. Completely exhausted, we did our best to eat as much of the food we had left so as to not have to carry any “unnecessary” weight into the final stretch.
No sooner had we bedded down for the night, the sounds we had heard earlier were upon us…or felt like they were. Not wanting to be a bear burrito, I shooed Paul out of the tent with our headlamps on full spotlight mode to investigate. Maybe we shouldn’t have bathed and “washed” (more like rinse) our clothes at Susie Lake. Upon Paul’s exit, the sounds stopped. No prints were near our tent, and our food we had stashed away from us was undisturbed. Now this happened more than once, and we (Paul actually) was beginning to get a bit perturbed. We pictured a Far Side cartoon, with two bears laughing their fury asses off. “Watch this Vern…I bet I can make them come out again…and, “What pray tell do they think those little moons will do?” Eventually we decided not to take the bait, and fell into a fitful sleep filled with visions of becoming a bear chew toy, hoping we still smelled bad enough that they would regret their folly.
(after double checking our numbers and adding just a bit more…for good measure), packed up, and Vern and Patrice drove us to Echo Lake as our feet had had enough. Before they started driving, they made sure we had our windows down, as apparently we smelled something fierce. We were hoping to catch the water taxi and avoid walking the 3.2 miles of shoreline, but we got there too late.
We ended the day at Big Meadow and had it all to ourselves…with the exception of a MILLION mosquitoes. It was a mad dash to set up our tent without being completely sucked dry. Thank goodness for mosquito netting. It was so bad that once we got our tent set up, we threw all of our gear inside and went from there…after of course smooshing the 100 or so that “snuck” in. Once inside, we discovered as we prepped for dinner that we had seriously under-planned or rather under estimated our caloric consumption and the number of meals needed for this leg. As we spread out our remaining food and took inventory, we discovered we had the following “food” left:
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