2MoreMiles…

Day 134: (28.5 miles)
mile 1936.6 – 1965.1

We awoke to a dry camp this morning of which we were pleasantly surprised, however, the mornings have turned cold. It’s getting more difficult each morning to get out of the warm sleeping bag. We have started putting our clothes at the bottom of our sleeping bags to keep them warm and dry…again. Jackets, hats and gloves are at the ready and are becoming part of the morning uniform now, and will probably be that way through to Canada.  We know that Fall in the Northwest mountains comes earlier than it does for us on the beaches of SoCal.  In fact, it feels like the beginning of Fall, and we are beginning to feel a sense of urgency as well.  We set off all bundled up and by 9 am ominous thunder claps begin to rumble overhead.  We, in turn, grumble about whether to dawn the rain gear and pack covers or wait it out. It seems we always suit up too early and sweat until we can’t take any more, then off it comes and we repeat the exercise again. We walk on as the thunder seems to be closing in and the cadence begins to quicken. Seeing it’s daylight, it is hard to tell if lightning is accompanying the raucous thunder.  We felt a sudden drop in the air temperature along with strong gusts of wind and knew all too well that rain was inevitable. Within minutes the sky darkens to that of almost twilight, and the deluge begins. We stopped under some tall wide pines and dawned our rain gear, each hoping that the tree we were changing at was not on the immediate list to be struck…at least while we were under it.  Bright flashes followed by loud crashing thunder directly over head.  It feels as though the earth is trembling beneath us.  We begin to count, one one thousand, two one thousand, and so on to determine the distance,  but when it becomes near simultaneous, we duck together as if it helps avoid being struck. A few “holy shits !!” were muttered before we moved on. It seemed best at the time to get the heck out there as the storm was over head. Moving quicker than normal (yes I have two speeds when I need too) we quickly cover ground, round a corner and come to a screeching stop. Just ahead we see two trees on fire 10 feet off the trail. Lighting strikes! Instant pucker factor times 10. Thank goodness my “second speed” is still really not that fast. 

At the base of these trees were two blazing campfire size fires that were beginning to spread.  We went to the base of the trees and worked to extinguish the fires using our trekking poles to disperse the burning debris.  When we left, the bases of the trees were no longer actively burning, but now smoldering in the continuing rain.  Overhead however, was another story as there were still several branches high above that were burning from the lightning strike.  We hoped that the rain would put them out before they dropped onto the ground below.  The air all around us was rich with the smell of smoke, as we continued on, still moving at a quickened pace.  We were unsure if the smoke was from the fire we had reduced and attempted to extinguish, or from additional fires nearby.  Either way, we were determined to keep motoring and hopefully walk our way out of this storm cell.  Eventually the rain and its audio-visual display dissipated, which allowed us to remove our rain gear, but not before becoming nearly drenched in sweat.  The dense forest then opened up into the sparse terrain of a “recent” (5 years or less) burn area. 

Thousands of trees pale and barkless often devoid of their tops stood scattered across a nearby mountain top that stretched into and alongside the trail.  Downed trees lay on either side of the trail like a giant’s interrupted game of pick-up sticks.  Colorful flowers filled the space between the fallen trees and turned an apparent wasteland into a work of art.  New saplings, crowded closely together, have begun to emerge from the scorched earth.  The forest grew taller and thicker as we walked.  We reached a small stream and decided it was time to water up for the evening and next morning.  While collecting our water we were surprised to see the German couple, “Princess” and “Mr. Sandals” walk up.  We figured they were way ahead of us.  They ask us how we faired in the rain, and exclaim that this is the first rain they’ve had to endure… lucky them.  We discuss whether to camp at the prefab campsites at the stream or chance moving on and getting caught in another downpour.  We decide to take our chances seeing there was at least another two hours of daylight and it was still raining lightly.  Maybe we could hike out of the rain.  The rain was annoying, but we were prepared with rain gear, pack covers and a sturdy tent.  Princess and Mr. Sandals expressed concern over the fact they had no pack covers and a somewhat leaky tent they have “sealed” more that once, yet they chose to continue on as we did and roll the dice as well.  Several miles down the trail, Princess and Mr. Sandals pulled off to set up camp under some trees as the rain had nearly stopped.  As our legs were feeling unusually good, and quite honestly the terrain had been fairly flat most of the day, so we decided to continue.  We made it another few miles and camped just past the Elk Lake second trail head and were treated to our first views full views of the Three Sisters mountains.

Sunrise

Day 132: (26 miles)
mile 1887 – 1913

We walked with a bit of extra energy this morning because we were going to Shelter Cove where we can shower, do laundry, eat, and pick up our resupply package. Nothing gets a hiker moving faster than knowing food is involved…non rehydrated food. 

Flat stands of trees give way to lush green forest and crystal clear river.

We arrived in the early afternoon picked up our resupply box, and enjoyed a large hot dog and a beer.  Shelter Cove is on Odell Lake and is known as a Cabella’s Sportsman’s resort.  Many “nice fish” have been, and continue to be reeled in from this lake…trophy “nice fish”, to include salmon.  I watched as one gentleman cleaned and filleted some good size, rich, red, meaty fish.  Mouth watering, we considered trying to yogi a filet, but then realized we had no way to cook it.  Our original plan was to shower, do laundry, resupply and be gone in time to do some miles. Mother nature had other plans. The skies darkened as we showered and did our laundry.  Light rain began to fall as we went through our food.  No worries we thought, we have awesome rain gear, a tent and pack covers.  Then came distant rumbling.  The rumbling grew stronger and the skies opened up.  Still we were thinking it’s just rain and it will let up once this cell passes overhead.  “Crack” overhead shoots a thick lightning bolt and “BOOM” sounds the thunder.  Hmm, plan “B”?  Lighting strikes light up the hillsides across the lake, right were the trail lies.  Smoke billows from five different spots as the rain continues. 

We huddle on the enclosed deck of the Shelter Cove store with at least ten other thru-hikers.  Now the rain has turned to full deluge…the faucet is wide open.  We are glad we hadn’t initially planned on staying and set up our tent.  We are also glad, although Paul was a bit annoyed at the time, that I had taken so long to repack and ready my gear to start hiking out.  We still were thinking that once the cell passed we could still get in a few miles, then ” Fresh” pulled up the weather forecast.  It appeared that another cell was coming in near midnight, and included the possibility of lightning… too dangerous, we will have to stay put for the night.  The rain let’s up a bit and we quickly set and and bed down for the night…hoping it dries out by morning.

Day 131: (20.5 miles)
mile 1866.5 – 1887

Lately the trail has flattened out a bit. Trees and other green growie things everywhere. Nothing else can be seen and it feels claustrophobic walking in a forest corridor. The trail usually gives you some awesome views of the horizon, mountains, and valleys. I think if I closed my eyes and spun around I couldn’t tell which way to go. It just all looks the same mile after mile. So we walk and walk and walk. In the afternoon we walk out of the green forest and into the black forest. A recent burn removes all green growth above five feet, but we can see! Off in the distance are tall mountains covered in green trees. One mountain range after another. They seem to go on forever and ever.

Traveling through this burn is eerie and we spotted and old trail emblem posted on a burned tree.

First of many old emblems we saw over the next three miles. Back into the trees we went and before long we reached Windigo road where a water cache was left. We took a short break with a hiker named Fresh who also was planning to take the alternate route, Oregon Skyline Trail (OST) to Shelter Cove. After comparing maps we set off down the trail for about 4 miles before making camp along a small lake. Fresh went on his way saying he had enough daylight for more miles and a chance to reach
Shelter Cove for breakfast, laundry and a shower. We made camp along the shore of a small lake, alone, quite, and comfortable. Good night.

Jeading toward Mt. Thielsen

Day 130: (23 miles)
mike 1843.5 – 1866.5

Today was all about managing our water.  We thought when we were done with the desert, we were done with worrying and planning for long stretches without water.  We were also under the impression that Oregon was flush with water, and it may be, but not where were at.  Luckily, there were some unexpected and very welcome water caches today, oddly enough by people we either know or had met on the trail.  Thank you Mike and Delaney, as well as Dennis and Linda Phelan. 

The trail tread was soft and reminded us of the well used and sandy trail into Tuolumne Meadows.  The trail was not without our daily dose of rocky terrain, but for the most part it was easy on our feet. 

The trail wove through a corridor of slim trees as far as the eye could see, climbed up toward Mt. Thielsen, and down of course to an icy brisk flowing creek.  We were tempted not to filter as we could see it originated from the glacial melt from the mountain, but thought better of it being that one bout with Giardia is one too many. 

The water was so icy cold neither of us could keep our tired feet submerged more than two minutes in the creek before our joints began to ache from the cold.  Once rested and watered up we pushed to “summit” the highest elevation point on the PCT for Oregon and Washington.  The trek to this point was rather refreshing as the groves of trees opened up into moderately sized meadows with sparse tufts of green grass. 

Where the PCT passed through these meadows, barren poles that appeared to be wilting were erected as cairns to mark the well worn path.  Reaching the highest point on the PCT for Oregon and Washington was anticlimactic, as I think we were expecting a Sierra mountains “oooh aaah” moment.  Oregon is to California, as Canada is to the US…too polite and understated. 

We took our obligatory photos and began our quest for a flat place to set up for the night.  We located one just before the downhill was to begin, and on a spot with tall trees so as to block the ever glowing brighter moon.

Day 128:(16 miles)
mile 1815 – 1830.5 (Mazama Village)

In fortunately there are no pictures to share with today’s trek into Mazama.  The phone is deader than dead.  We are hoping that actual 110v power source through a direct feed (ie. a wall socket) will revive it like an AED does for ones heart.  Again nothing spectacular to report, with the exception of meeting a really nice couple (Dennis and Linda Phelan) who are finishing their section hike of Oregon.  They are a little older than us and are strong and determined.  Once they get to retire, they plan to maybe tackle California.  The trail wove across some rocky terrain with ridge line views where we could see and smell the still smoldering fires that dotted the horizon and created a hazy “fog” in the narrow valleys and canyons below.  As we dropped lower, the trail became soft and sandy, and lined with tall thin pines.  And…it would not be the PCT without a ridiculous, and seemingly unnecessary, climb to get to our resupply end point, Mazama Village, so we climbed, just so we could go down… into Mazama Village. 

Once there, we picked up our resupply, ate a lot of homemade cookies thanks to Mike and Carol, did laundry, jump started my phone again, showered, ate non rehydrated food at the restaurant, yogied a campsite, and sat in on a Ranger interp talk for a little bit.

Day 129: (13 miles)
mile 1830.5 – 1843.5 (Crater Lake Rim)

Now today was cool.  After mailing my old pack home at the post office, we made our way up to the Crater Lake Rim.  I had been there once before, and it had just snowed, so seeing it without snow and hiking the rim trail was new for me.  Paul on the other hand was just as in awe as I was the first time I saw it. 

Looking back toward Crater Lake Village

Wizard's Island

The weather was perfect, and of course the lake was as photogenic as ever.  While at an overlook, and the last place to use a “civilized” toilet, we met a family whose daughter “recognized” us as PCT thru-hikers by our Z-rest pads hanging off our packs. 

They had just come back from a river rafting trip on the Salmon River and were taking the time to catch Crater Lake.  They asked us lots of questions, and we talked for quite awhile.  Best of all, they supplied us with some trail magic in the form of beer…FINALLY we actually get a beer.  The day is getting even better.  We finally had to break away so we all could get on to where we all needed to go. 

Thw tip of Mt. Thielsen in the very back

The rim trail did its best to follow the rim of the lake as closely as it could, and eventually dipped down into a valley of sorts on a heading toward Mt. Thielsen.  We walked to where the pedestrian PCT meets the “stock” PCT and located the two gallons of water Mike and Delaney had stashed for us earlier for this waterless stretch.

They had attached a snack, but based on what remained of said snack (Snickers), there is one or more fat dumb and happy chipmunk in the forests of Oregon.  We found a flat place to camp, which in Oregon is really not difficult or remotely challenging, for which we are grateful. 

Our site however, greatly annoyed a doe who circled us for hours, feeding and staring at us like “Of all the places in the forest, you had to plop your butts in my feeding spot.  “Thanks a lot you two legged, hump backed freaks.”  Once we zipped up our tent, she brought the rest of her friends around to stomp and huff around our tent.  After awhile they tired of their “reindeer games” and departed loudly, after which, we were able to sleep soundly.

Day 127: (20.6 miles)
mile 1794.4 – 1815

It rained hard most of the night, and even hailed pea sizes balls of ice for a spell.  The good thing is that our tent preformed perfectly.  We woke warm and dry, however the mosquitoes were waiting impatiently for us to exit. These guys were big, like on steroids.  The big ones however are like cargo planes, easy to spot and a little slow to react, thus they were easy to smush before they could offload any of our hemoglobin.  Everything smelled fresh, like spring and energizing like a good cup of “Joe”.  Another benefit, was the trail was virtually dust free, a plus when wearing breathable footwear.  The yin and yang of it though, is while your feet are cleaner, they end up soaking wet from brushing up against the damp vegetation. And sometimes it’s hard to avoid assorted puddles.  Today we are heading toward Mazama Village at the base of Crater Lake.  We will set ourselves up so we get in relatively early tomorrow morning. There we will pick up a resupply box, a box of goodies from Paul’s older brother Mike and my new Osprey Exos 58 backpack. 

Seeing that last night was a pretty spectator thundershower, complete with lightning, the sound of helicopters overhead is constant.  We are hoping the trail to Mazama will be fire free.  While on the trail two hot shot fire crews pass us.  We figure they are on their way to mop up the fires behind us. Young and full of energy they hike past us with back packs and a tool over their shoulders. Each time they pass Paul jokes with them and asks if they will share the beers in their packs. They laugh and have the same response, “we wish”! Paul always answers, ” me too”. 

Today we also pass the 1800 mile mark.  Canada is getting ever closer.  The trail tread is pleasant and soft on our soles.  We literally play “frogger” most of the day for as we walk tiny little frogs, no more than an inch in size (or maybe they were toads) litter the trail and scurry out to the edges of the trail before they are stepped on.  Their coloring is such that they blend perfectly with the trail, and it is only when they move beneath or before our feet that we actually see them.  I tried to catch at least one for a picture but they were so small it was too difficult to catch let alone coral for a picture.  We hiked as far as we could before our feet and backs signaled it was quitting time.  Tomorrow Mazama and maybe something that does not require only water for preparation for consumption.

Dr. Seuss flowers

Day 126: (20.2 miles)
mile 1774.2 – 1794.4

Today was really slow and uneventful. It seemed as if we were walking on a tread mill. The miles dragged on and on. Our main focus was making it to the next water source. We finally made it to our lunch break (hiker union break) and were joined by Butterfingers.  He was about 45 yrs. old and from Modesto, CA. We had the normal hiker questions (when did you start? How’s it been for you?  What did you do before thru-hiking?  Where’s your next resupply?…), and then we switched to current events…Israel, Where’s the Malaysian plane, the IRS scandal, etc… We were shocked when he said he never heard of the IRS Scandal, or who Lois Lerner was, “what’s that all about?”, he asked.  Seeing that he wasn’t retired, his “union break” was shorter than ours and continued on about 10 minutes later.  He also was anxious and excited to meet up with his wife at Fish Lake Resort.  After awhile we packed up as well and trudged on.  Do we get water at Summit Lake or walk a few more miles and see if Christie’s spring is still flowing.  We go for the “sure thing”, Summit Lake and discover that Oregon’s version of Summit Lake was very similar to California’s…shallow, swampy green, and teaming with water bugs.  Yea.  As we sat on a log filtering water, I noticed a couple of eyes staring out at us from inside the cracks in the log.  Tiny little frogs poked their heads out from the log each time we got up to get more water. It was almost cute, namely because it wasn’t a snake.  The water, once filtered was clear and sweet tasting which was a pleasant surprise as we are getting tired of having to add crystal light.  All watered up for the night and next morning we continued on.  The mosquitoes began to be relentless and we had to resort to applying bug spray (Bens 30% deet) as we were becoming nearly punch drunk from hitting ourselves in the face/head/neck.  When we came to the exit for Christie’s Spring, we figured it was only a short walk and why not check it out.  The notes from Guthook were correct on that there were lots of mosquitoes, but we had our chemical armor on and were unfazed by their advances.  The water on the other hand was flowing splendidly and icy cold.  Paul improved the flow by clearing out the sediment that had built up and re-damed the spring and created a spout for easier collection.  From there we collected another liter of cold water for our dinner drink.  2moremiles and we were done for the day.

Day 125: (19.2 miles)
mile 1755 – 1774.2

We left camp without our friends, Mike and Delaney.  Mike saw us off while Delaney continued to slumber.  There will be a next time we tell Mike.  For what ever reason we felt sluggish this morning and the easy trail climb had us both huffing and puffing. The air was full of the smell of forest fire and the sky appeared to be overcast.  We knew, however, this was smoke. The sun was bright orange and cast eerie dayglo orange shadows on the ground.

Throughout the day we could hear the fire crew air support flying overhead.   We have been checking the internet when possible for trail closures and know that 40 miles of trail behind us is closed. Fires up ahead in Oregon and Washington have us concerned. Fortunately, our friend, Tortuga, is a recently retired National Forest Service ranger. He has assured us there will be plenty of notification, so we march on.

Mid afternoon we reach the Brown Ski Shelter where a hand pump is used to retrieve water. A bit rusty looking, but ice cold.

Upon exploring the cabin we discover a PCT registry, and best of all, a cooler with ice cold 7-Up. Trail Magic!! After a refreshing soda we are back on the trail with five miles to go before making camp for the night.

It appears that we also are 2/3 of the way done. 

We traversed along a forest trail and emerge out into a lava field. Large black lava boulders surround the trail. Small red lava rock lines the trail tread. This is a new look for us, something we haven’t seen in over 1700 + miles. As we walked between the large rocks we could feel the day’s heat radiate on our legs. Lucky for us the evening temperature had begone to drop and the radiant heat was tolerable. Now to find a campsite in this rock quarry. Just before dark we find a nice flat spot between rocks and forest and camp.

Day 123: (0 miles)

Today is filled with chores.  Our friend Mike and his daughter Delaney pick us up at Callahan’s after a hearty breakfast.  We have food shopping for our resupply, and a visit to the REI in Medford planned. Mike and Delaney plan on hiking with us to Crater Lake, so they must shop a bit as well.  Mike did the PCT in 1977, and wants to introduce his daughter to the trail.  Food shopping complete. Package mailed to Crater Lake, a new pair of shoes and a shirt for me,

as well as a fitting for a new pack (Osprey Exos 58) which I will order on-line and have sent to Crater Lake.  Now it is time to eat, but not before Mike introduces us to the supposively “icy cold sweetest tasting water in the world”, he says, of Lithia water.  We saddle up to the white porcelain fountains flowing freely in downtown Ashland.  Paul, Delaney and I all bend over and take a big gulp.  Holy shit, this is awful!  Effervescent, warm and salty.  Mike laughs hysterically.  I and his daughter punched him.  Game on.

Mikes backpack he used in 1977, and put into action again

Day 124: (20 miles to include back tracking)
mile 1743.1 – 1756.4

Today we walk with our good friend Mike and his daughter, our God daughter, Delaney.  Mike did the PCT in 1977 and wants to share a bit of the trail life with his daughter. I’m sure he would love nothing more than to have his daughter want to do the PCT after high school or college. 

We start by having one of Mikes old college buddies drop us off at the trail at Green Spring Summit.  Mike is wearing his original pack and soon finds out that it doesn’t fit like it used to.  We begin our trek.  There should be few significant elevation changes, and will be a easy day for the most part.

Today we will par down mileage and walk at a pace comfortable for Mike and Delaney.  Our goal is Klum Campground (15 miles). 

We introduce them to the unique signage that we find from time to time, as well as not so good water sources.  Our lunch stop, and halfway point for the day is at a water trough complete with drinking fountain outside of the Hyatt Lake campground.  After lunch and a siesta we start the second half of the day.  The trail winds through dense forest and green shrubbery that for a small section smells putrid, like something died.  Being the cynics we are, we think its probably a body dump, seeing it’s close to the road and dense foliage.  We looked around in the nearby area, but seeing there was a slight breeze we can’t really pinpoint where the smell is coming from…so we continue on and the smell goes away.  About two hours in, Delaney complains that her hip flexor is beginning to give her problems (previous injury).  We slow down and take more breaks.  The pain continues but she sucks it up and marches on.  We are now 4 miles from the campground and it’s getting late.  Paul and I tell Mike we have a plan.  Our plan is to race on ahead, get to the campground, dump our stuff and come back to get theirs and go back to the campsite.  Meanwhile, they will continue on at a pace that Delaney can go with minimal pain.  Mike and Delaney agree to the plan.  We race ahead and get to a road wherein we see another campground with cabins. Turns out, it’s a county run campground called, Apserkaha.  MeToo arrives and asks us where are friends are. We tell him the situation and he says he was planning on camping near here anyways and will watch our stuff while we go and get Mike and Delaney.  The three of us walk into the campground.  We see several open sites with water, power and picnic tables.  We make a beeline to the Camp host site.  There we quickly talk to Patsy, who is excited to see PCT hikers, as she is in the middle of reading ‘Wild’.  She tells us that technically the campground is full, as a church group has rented the entire place, but tells us shell find a place for us and directs us to a site saying,  “There will be no charge.”. “I just got through the mean camp host part in the book.  I’m not one of those”, she exclaims.  Excellent!  We drop our stuff with MeToo and race back to Mike and Delaney, who we find plodding along.  Delaney sees us, and instantly smiles.  We tell them we scored a campsite at a campground a mile and a half sooner than Klum, and we know a short cut.  I grab Delaney’s pack and Paul has Mike empty some of the weight Mike was carrying for Delaney into his pack, and to the campground we head.  Delaney is able to walk better and almost pain free.  Phew!  We arrive back at the campground, and Patsy has smoothed things out with the church group who are happy to have us.  We are good to stay, and set up camp.  While setting up, Patsy peppers us with questions.  She is positively tickled, when we declare her an official Trail Angel.  Patsy is a born and bred parks person as her father worked for National Parks, and has an affinity for the outdoors.  She calls Zion, my favorite National Park, her ” home”.  We talk at length about the trail and her park experiences.  What a fantastic upbringing she had. 

Camp host Patsy in the background

She decides she needs to do more for us, disappears, and comes back with a delicious salad to supplement our rehydrated dinners.  Yum!  We talk some more, and its way past hiker midnight for all, and time to retire.  Mike tells us that he and Delaney will not be continuing to Crater Lake with us as Delaney can’t afford to further injure herself, and possibly miss her senior year of tennis and a possible sports scholarship.  We agree, and understand.  Both are bummed, but there will be other opportunities for other trips and outings.  We are happy they were able to meet up with us and share some of the trail with us. 

Mike's original tent