2MoreMiles…

Day 100: (22 miles)
mile 1239.86 – 1261.86

Not much to report today.  The trail was pretty easy for the most part.  The weather is definitely heating up. The battery on the phone is pretty low and we hope we can charge it up in Draksbad, at the resort.  Prior to making it to the resort we smell sulfur and then see a side trail to a geyser.  We don’t take the side trip as we’ve seen bubbling sulfur pools and thermal areas at Yellowstone and in New Zealand, and don’t want to walk any farther than we need to today…or any day for that matter. 

Paul breaking the rules...

The trail runs by Boiling Springs Lake…definitely a non-swimming lake.  We know we must be close to Draksbad and/or the campground as we begin to see people of all shapes and sizes on the dusty silty trail stepping carefully so as not to dirty up their white tennis shoes or colorful Nikes.  We nod and tromps on by to peculiar looks and some nods of understanding that we are PCT thru-hikers on a mission for something cold to drink…preferably beer.  We reach Draksbad after a circuitous route and discover a pod of hiker trash lounging in the dirt, in the shade of the pines next to the dining area of the resort.  There are stickers and signs on the structure seemingly indicating they are PCT hiker friendly, but find it more like, tolerated.  We purchase two 4 dollar bottles of “original” Coors in short “old school” bottles, (only because we have been jonesing for one all morning) and it’s perfectly cooled to the recommended temp of 45 degrees…finally!  We sit out the heat of the day talking with the other hikers with some looks of bewilderment by the resort’s patrons.  A musclebound body builder type guy, all tan and greased up makes a point to walk around by us with his undersized tank top in his hand.  Our thought was, if you don’t plan on wearing your shirt, why are you carrying it?  We break from the vortex of the shade and get back to the trail.  Our destination for the evening is Twin Lake for an evening swim and a good nights sleep.  We make it to the lake, having covered 22 miles today.  I’m toast and not feeling particularly well, possibly a little heat exhaustion.  Good thing its cooler and there is plenty of water here.

Day 99: (16.98)
mile 1322.88 –  1339.86

Today was a big day.  We made it to, and past, the halfway mark of the PCT, and now there is no turning back.  For the first time we are closer to Canada than Mexico.  Hurray!  Luckily Ms. Frizzle passed us with about a mile to go before midpoint so when we arrived she was able to take our picture. 

We signed the registry and decided to hitch into Chester for a soda and a shake to celebrate, as well as to do laundry, charge the phone and take a shower.  It took a little longer than our “normal” to get a ride as there were 4 other thru-hiker trying to hitch to town as well once we made it to Hwy 36.  However, 30 minutes later we were able to score a ride from a couple (who a contractors with the Forest Service to study woodpeckers) who had just dropped off another hiker and were going to head back into town.  Once in town (7.5 miles) we have them drop us at the coin laundromat/shower, which is across the street from an awesome (but slow) burger and shake place. We clean up. Charge up and add to our snacks supply for the next 4 days (hiker hunger…ate most of them from our resupply two days ago) and begin our hitch back to the trail.  As luck would have it, we get a ride to the trail from trail angel Mohawk Lisa who was heading home from work.  We load up into her truck and up to the trail we head.  She tells us she is one of the trail angels that helps maintain the cache at the Chester trailhead (with “Tooth Fairy”… town dentist), and picks up hikers to town…and back.  She introduced herself as “Mohawk Lisa”.  Paul being the wise guy that he is asks her, why do they call you Mohawk Lisa? She looks at him like “seriously? “, and we all break into laughter. 

She asks our trail names, and I tell her that the wise guy next to me is Just Paul, and I’m One Speed.  ” Really fast One Speed, right? “, she asks.  I wish.  After a bit of conversation… we were stalling as its always hard to get back started again, even if this was just a four hour town trip…we start back on the trail.  The tread is easy, but our packs are a bit heavier which we will remedy in a few days.  We make another five miles till it starts to rain. Mohawk Lisa warned us of a 30% chance of thunder showers.  It just became 100%.  No worries, as we are prepared and find an acceptable place to pitch our tent.  Still full from town food, we unpack and set off to sleep.  At least the rain will temper the dusty trail and we’ll stay ” clean…er”, at least for tomorrow.

Sunrise at Frog Spring

Day 98: (19 miles)
mile  1304.1 – 1323.1

We have a bit of a late start this morning.  That climb in the heat really broke us down.  But back at it again we go.  We carry 2-3 liters of water as water resources are limited and it should be hot again.  In actuality its sort of humid…almost cool as in 80’s. 

This icy cold water rushes into the trough like water through a fire hose

We come upon Cold Spring and load up again.  We end up passing two good springs that aren’t on Halfmile’s maps or Yogi’s notes.  We make it to Carter Meadows that’s supposed to be a good water spot.  The water source is pond a 1/2 mile down a hill. We leave our packs behind  a downed tree not needing to carry the weight. After what seems to be more like mile we hear water running. To our surprise we find a cold spring running out from between some rocks. It’s a relief not having to deal with scummy pond water and battle our leaking (profusely) platypus bladder. We collected 7 liters: 2 to cook dinner and breakfast with, 1 to drink with dinner and 4 to drink on trail tomorrow. We drink as much water as we can before carrying the water back up the hill. We find Ms. Frizzle at the top setting up camp for the night. We joined her (and several large black ants) for dinner sharing details of yesterday’s 5200 ft. climb. We also celebrate in advance that tomorrow we cross the halfway mile mark. Oh ya! After dinner we say good by to Ms. Frizzle and set off to do 2moremiles (really). We find a good location, set up camp when we realize the sunset is going to be awesome with the evening clouds.  We are surrounded by trees without a view. Much discussion takes place to pack up and move to be able to view the sky, but exhaustion overrules. We crawl into bed and quickly forget about the sunset because now all we can think of is the damn black flies that buzz outside by the thousands turning the forest into a roaring weed whacker. Yet, we are still having a good time.

Today we hit 1300!

Day 97: (14.6 miles)
mile 1289.5 – 1304.1

We awoke to a debris field of people snoring loudly in their tents. 

One of the hikers, Soapbox awoke to green hair…and a nasty hangover we hear about later.  We meet up with Brenda Braaten at the rest stop across the bridge and retrieve our resupply box.  Belden Town is coming back to life, the music starts up again.  Zombies begin to stir. Today we will exceed 1300 miles and have a Big climb…in horrendous heat. This climb is further and higher than the climb to Whitney (minus the altitude).  We climb over 5000 feet in searing heat for 13 miles and call it a mile later at Frog Spring.  This spring was the best spring we’ve stopped at yet.  The water was ice cream headache cold. I soak my tired and swollen feet until they are frozen.  We have 3G service so I do my best to upload/update our blog.  Several deer walk by us on the trail and huff at us.  Paul tells them to move along, and we doze off after witnessing a colorful sunset, which we failed to capture successfully with the phone…sorry.

Trail Angels Nancy and Terry Williams

Day 95: (4 miles)

We rouse at our leisure and are treated to a fantastic spread for breakfast.  As we had intended to zero on the 4th, we pass the time engaged in conversation with Terry and his family that continues to roll in unfazed by hiker trash loitering on their family deck.  As we have a few items to add to our food bags for the next section and feel a little like a nuisance hanging out, we decide to walk the 2 miles back to the Lakeshore Resort bar for supplies, lunch, world cup soccer and to find an errant sock that must have jumped ship before we exited the beach.  We gorge on an entire pizza and have a few beers.  We resist the urge to try the “house drink” which is called the “Tree Smacker”.  After having watched the bartender prepare the monstrous alcoholic beverage, and observing the few patrons consuming the deadly tasty concoction, we decide to observe only.  What we can tell you is that the drink is aptly named.  We head back to Honker Pass and are treated to a rack of ribs.  We prep our gear for departure back to the trail tomorrow morning.  We had initially intended to leave early in the morning to beat the heat, but are talked into attending the Buck Lake Volunteer Fire Department’s annual pancake breakfast around the corner from Honker Pass.  With that said, we’ll probably have a better chance of getting a ride from there to the pass to rejoin the trail anyways.

Day  95: (19.5 miles)
mile 1270 – 1289.5

Just before we leave for the pancake breakfast another hiker, Tortuga arrives.  Tortuga is our age and started from Campo one day after us, March 31.  We talk about our travels and are amazed it’s taken over 1200 miles for us to cross paths.  We have quite a bit in common.  He and Paul have the same packs, shoes and very similar clothing.  Tortuga has just retired from the Forest Service., and his son-in-law’s parents live in San Clemente.  We head out to the pancake breakfast, packs in tow.  Terry takes us by surprise and treats us to breakfast. Awesome. We are greeted by friendly smiles and comments congratulating us for getting this far on the PCT.  There looks to be about 200 people in attendance, a raffle for gift baskets and assorted consumables is held. Buck Lake Fourth of July t-shirts were being sold (wish we would have bought one and mailed it home).  Alas, it became time for us to leave this wonderfully relaxing hamlet, so we gather our gear and make one last pit stop before we attempt to hitch up the road to Buck’s Pass.  Before Paul even gets his pack on he is approached  by a couple who inquire as to whether he is hiking the PCT.  Paul responds that he/we are.  The couple, who is near about our age asks if we keep a blog, as they follow a few. Paul tells them our blog and low and behold ours is one they follow!  We talk about some of our trail adventures and they asks us if we need a place to stay or a ride.  We tell them a ride to the trailhead would be greatly appreciated.  They pull their car around and we load up. 

They are Marc and Dianne, and avid hikers. Marc is preparing to so the John Muir Trail, and asks lots of gear questions.  We give him as much information as we can in the short period of time it takes to drive to the trailhead.  They give us some good information about what to expect over the next several miles.  We thank them for the ride and wish Marc good luck with the JMT.  Our goal is to make the 20 miles to Belden and the Braatans at little haven. 

Just before the switchbacks

The trail was fairly easy with the exception of the 35 downhill switchbacks… of which I trip badly at switchback #4 (so much for staying “clean”).  Near switchback #20-25 we start to hear music, techno bass music.  We thought the rave party was supposed to he over.  When we get to Belden Town Resort (the PCT goes right through the ” town”) we are greeted by costumed people with vacant eyes and liquid smiles…”welcome” they say, “enjoy”, ” stay a while, you’re just in time for the best part…it’s a space theme”. Hmm.  Space theme.  Appropriate.  Everyone is in shiny, or dayglow colors. Some have interesting hairdos… like a blind monkey cut and colored their hair.  We run into a few thru-hikers we know and they implore us to stay, at least for the experience and the extraordinary people watching, and direct us to the area they’ve set aside for the thru-hikers.  As it’s late, we succumb to “peer pressure” and decide to stay, thus checking off another item from the  “bucket list”.  This was quite the experience.  We were told by the shop keep at the resort store, that “Belden Town is what ever you want it to be.  We don’t have law enforcement here, so we police ourselves, but if it gets too out of hand we’ll call CHP and walk the guy across the bridge to them.” Awesome, we reply.  We purchase snacks and some beer, walk back to set up our tent amongst the other hiker trash. 

Tents of varied sizes, shape and condition are pitched everywhere.  It reminded us of the transient encampments you see under bridges, but an encampment on steroids…actually Molly. 

Can you see me?

While we did not partake of the free flowing hallucinogens, we did dance for a bit in the dust storm of a dance floor to loud bass thumping techno music amongst interestingly clad happy huggy individuals. 

While we only lasted to 11pm, the party was just reving up and went on till 4am.  Even with the music thumping and loud drunken talking about “important” things using big words out of context, we get a few hours sleep…an experience to say the least, one that we are glad we didn’t pass up.

Day 94: (8 miles)
mile 1262 – 1270

We had four legged visitors last night…nosey deer that kept marching around and near our tent.  They are nearly as annoying as the mosquitoes, especially because these guys wake us up.  Although we know bears are much quieter, we wake to check out the sound, to make sure it’s not a bear about to make off with our packs.  We are sure that the one time we ignore the sounds and attribute them to marauding deer, it will be a bear.  Once we break camp and get back onto the trail, we spy several other campsites that were ready made, had we only walked another 2 minutes, and would you believe, 2 miles further awesome sunrise camp spots as well.  I guess you don’t know what you don’t know…at the time.  Plenty of mornings left to catch phenomenal sunrises.  As we head toward the road walk into Buck Lake (a perfectly kept secret for boating as far as we’re concerned) we discuss our options for the 4th. 1. Get adopted by a family camping. 2. Hang at the bar. 3.  Hitch into Quincy for the music festival. 

Along the trail we spy a sign from a local trail angel that is offering food, shower, laundry and internet.  This angel is not in any publications we’ve seen, nor has it been mentioned in any blogs we’ve read in the past. It looks too good to be true. I snap a picture, just in case we decide to add this as option #4.  We hit the road into Buck Lake and only have to road walk less than a mile before we get a ride.  Our ride who is camping at the Lakeside Resort, drops us off at the resort’s store and restaurant and bar.  We had hoped for breakfast but apparently were out of luck as they were in between meal servings and would not reopen till 11am.  They tell us we are welcome to wait on their back patio till them or go to the bar…which just opened.  We thank the owner, drop our packs and then meander through the store looking for breakfast type food.  Coffee and one of those prepackaged apple pies for Paul, an apple pie and chocolate milk for me.  After a while, another thru-hiker arrives and plops down at the bar.  Paul checks to see if it’s the same one we saw on the road when we got our ride and if by chance we know him.  Yes to both.  It is Matt whom we last saw nearly 700 miles ago at Kennedy Meadows with his dad.  We swap as stories and compare notes.  We wonder and theorize how it took this long for our paths to cross…again  We decide to have a beer (or two) and order lunch at the bar and continue talking. Paul has a cheeseburger ( this seems to be the common “town” food) and I get a little crazy and order a Ceasar salad.  The salad was delightful, however it did not sit well with me and my stomach begins to cramp, most likely as my digestive system had no idea how to process this “fresh” fibrous meal, for the most part, devoid of high fructose corn syrup…nothing another beer can’t fix.  We decide it’s nap and lay in the sun time, so off to the beach at the lake’s edge.  We strip down to our underwear (modesty be damned), blow up out sleep pads and bask in the coolness of the water and richness of the sun as we float atop our mats in the calm of the lake.  We discuss and strategize as to what to do next.  It looks likely that option #1, getting adopted by a camper hungry for our stories of adventure is NOT going to happen anytime soon.  We really aren’t up for hitching to Quincy and/or to negotiate the throngs of people that will be at the music festival, nor do we want to spend $70 to get into it.  We reluctantly decide to call the trail angel.  FOOLS!  We should have done this in the very FIRST place.  This place, Honker Pass (aptly named for the geese that fly by early in the morning) at the Williams was like winning the lottery and staying at a five star hotel.  We (I) made the call. Terry, who is a rice and walnut farmer, picks us up at the lodge.  When we arrive to their home, we are greeted by Nancy who shows us the laundry, the shower, a cooler full of beer and soda and a room off their main house (appropriately named the Hiker Hut) with just about any and every toiletry a hiker may need …with a queen bed.  As we are the only hikers so far, we get the bed (first come, first serve), all others will have to sleep on the deck on plush foam pads. Dinner will be served in a few hours (tri-tip)…make yourself at home they tell us.  Home!  This is way better than home.  Later we are joined by another hiker, Ms. Frizzle. She is a twenty something year old just graduated from Reed College in linguistics with long, braided, fire red, hair.  She has done 30 miles to get here in hopes of catching a World Cup soccer game as she is an uber fan of soccer. We have quite the enjoyable afternoon and evening filled with good food and conversation.  We retire to the most comfortable bed we’ve slept on since being home and are soon fast asleep.  We will zero here tomorrow, while Ms. Frizzle will continue on after the mornings soccer match to Belden Town where she hears there is a rave party going on.

Day 93: (23 miles)
mile  1239 -1262

We awoke to predators outside our tent, buzzing, lying in wait, ready to pounce the moment the tent zipper was parted.  We hastily consumed our breakfast, battled the skeeters and flies, and were off. We are so excited because today we should be able to swim in the Feather River. It’s going to be hot again today and dip in the river should be glorious considering how warm the air was when awoke up at 5:30.  Small climbs and drops along the dry 10 miles and then a very steep down to Feather River were on the menu for the first half of the day. My knee gave me a reminder that it hadn’t voted to do this hike in the first place. Before reaching the bottom I had to rest. Paul had been leading most of the morning so I had to “race” forward to catch him so we could  stop. After a 10 minutes rest I was ready and took the lead. By now we could hear the rapids of the churning river. I walked no more than 50 feet from our rest stop and was about to turn toward Paul to remind him that I think we’re in snake territory again, when a 2 foot rattlesnake on the downhill edge of the trail to my left within a foot of mine, brakes out in song and slithers off the trail and a couple feet down the hillside. Of course I freak and muscle memory takes over.  I moon walk, run in place, and stutter… s n a k e!!!  and turn into Paul who is directly behind me.  We collide as he pushes me forward and it’s everything I can do not to climb over the top of him, just to hey behind him.  Flashbacks from the desert race through my mind. Paul laughs and reminds me my trail name should be “Rattles”. Paul, is now back on point, and we arrive safely at the Feather River with no further slithering reptile encounters. A large metal bridge high above the water makes for an easy crossing.  We wonder aloud what something like this cost to build and how they got it here.  We cross the bridge and make our way down to the bounding river’s edge.

I slid down this small waterfall into the calm pools

Up stream, a small rock beach gives you an easy entry into the water but you have get past the three foot high water fall to reach the calm swimming hole down stream. We get a crazy idea to blow up our sleeping pads and float in the calm area in the sun. Paul, the big chicken, walked around the waterfall to the calm water, but not me. With some coaxing from Paul, I go down the rapids and waterfall!  It was a rough ride, but once I started there was no turning back. The sleeping pad was folding and I was slipping off, but some how I lined it up and zipped down the waterfall and into the deep calm water. I only screamed a little…honest. A little hairy and definitely a one and done ride. Not sure I’d get lucky with the submerged rocks again.  And no, Paul didn’t try it …the big wussy! 

Paul floating on his pad

We floated for close to an hour in the calm water and surprisingly tepid water, and hated to get out but we had 10 plus more miles to do before dark. The climb out from the river was brutal. Steep switchbacks for 8 miles and over 3000 feet of elevation gain. The heat of the day quickly negated the swim in the river. There were two icy cold springs along the trail coming out of the side of the slope which were heavenly and provide some relief from the still, hot, air. We guzzled water here and filled our water bottles, as well as soaked our hats to keep us cool. After one last spring, we found a convenient camping location and settled in. Tomorrow we will be in Buck Lake and look for a place for celebrating 4th of July.

Day 92: (22.5 miles)
mile 1216.5 – 1239

In keeping with last night’s amazing sunset, this morning’s sunrise was nothing to sneeze at.  Today was to be a series of “rolling” ups and downs. 

We were treated to another fabulous spring at “A Tree” (at mile 1219.4) and set our sights on hopefully a swim in Duck Soup Pond.  We were hoping that if it’s called a lake and looks like a swamp that conversely, a pond called “Duck Soup” may actually be a pristine lake.  We were half right.  The water was “clear” but not swimable as it was fairly shallow and littered with logs and reeds surrounding the perimeter.  It was hotter than “a stack of black cats”, as one of our friends would have exclaimed.  (The term actually is supposed to be “hotter than a stack of blankets”, but she heard her this from her grandfather with a thick Long Island accent, as black cats, and it stuck). Being so hot, we had consumed most of our water and needed to refill, so Paul walked out onto a log partially submerged in the pond and collected water (which we filtered).  While we collected and filtered the water, it appears that the mosquitoes had sent a memo to the flies abdicating their responsibility to harass us.  The flies took up the charge, immune to our bug spray, but not to the hand (squish).  These things have teeth and will exact a pound of flesh if you let them.  We packed up, watered up, but not refreshed and moved on. Our goal was the stream near La Porte rd and then camp.  As we were coming to the road we spied two Styrofoam coolers and a two gallon jug of water.  Trail magic!…psych!  All empty, except for three hot dog buns.  We settle for hot dog buns.  It was fairly early when we got to the stream, (complete with a giant buck that ran off as we approached) so we decided we would go two more miles.  We did three miles before we found an acceptable place to camp. We made plans to make it to the Feather River, a well know swimming hole, by noon tomorrow. The heat is unbearable.