Dave and Lexi's 2004 PCT hike

Northern California

July 7, 2004
This morning we left our log landing, stump dump, mosquito infested campsite and cruised the easy 10 miles to the highway. Once at the road, our next destination was Sierra City (an overly optimistic name for this town of 250 people) a mile and a half away.

Always loathe to walk unnecessary miles, we tried to hitch into town. We were almost halfway there by the time someone stopped, and she only had room for one. Dave hopped in the car in an effort to get to the post office to pick up our boxes before it closed for lunch, and I walked the rest of the way. Dave got some grief from Scrote and Iceman for taking the ride while I walked. In his defense, I told him to go, since I prefer not to hitch-hike alone.

Once in town we did our shopping and mail sorting (Dave got new shoes) and headed back out to the trail in a couple of hours.

The trail switch-backed steeply up through a forest of sugar pine and Douglas fir. The sugar pines have enormous columnar cones up to a foot and a half long. Each cone has a sturdy wooden stem attached to it so you can hold the cone like a lollipop.

After gaining about 1500 feet of elevation, we finally popped out into a steep talus shrub land. The views were tremendous, but the talus was a little hard on the ankles. Now we're perched on a side of Sierra Butte watching the sun go down.

-Lexi

July 8, 2004
We got up at 5:30 and started our day with a detour: the fire lookout perched on the summit of Sierra Butte. The jeep trail was dusty and steep, but we trudged up, eating donut fragments.

The lookout was built on a spire of rock with a 600' drop to the north. We made our final approach on a series of long metal stairs almost as steep as ladders. The newly risen sun lit up peaks from Tahoe to Lassen. Incredibly, the peaks of the High Sierra were not visible. In what seems like a short time we have left them behind. A stiff breeze made it hard to stay long, so we soon retreated and returned to the PCT on a different side trail.

Today was quiet. We saw Scrote once and Billy Goat a couple of times, but mostly we moved through the woods by ourselves. It will change though. By carrying food to get us to Chester, we'll undoubtedly catch up to those who stop in Belden.

-Dave

July 9, 2004
We spent most of the day cruising along forested ridges. The terrain was relatively mellow, but the ups and downs along the ridge seemed, at times, to be never-ending. For some reason, perhaps it was the monotony of the day, perhaps it was the big mileage days we've been doing finally catching up with me, I was unreasonably tired and a little discouraged by mid-afternoon. As we pounded endlessly downhill towards the middle fork of the Feather River, it seemed as though every joint in my body ached.

Despite my physical discomfort, it was interesting to watch the forest types change rapidly around us as we descended: from manzanita shrubland, to dry sugar pine, to live oak, to black oak. Being in a forest of deciduous trees (there were maples and dogwoods in the understory) reminded me of home.

At last we reached the canyon bottom. A truly impressive bridge with a steel arched trestle spanned the bottom of the canyon. The river flowed swiftly, but in places along the shore, rocks forced the water into pools and eddies. In one of these pools, about the size and depth of a large bathtub, we bathed and rinsed out our clothing. It felt terrific to be cool and clean.

We ate a sociable dinner with Billy Goat, Scrote, and Iceman, all of whom were also enjoying the river. Clean, cool, and fed, I felt rejuvenated, so we decided to head north and complete part of the climb out of the canyon. We camped near Bear Creek. We left Scrote and Iceman sleeping on the bridge while we opted to set up our tent on the shore as a defense against mosquitoes. In the end, it turned out to be our longest day yet: 27.5 miles.

-Lexi

July 10, 2004
Scrote and Iceman slept on the Bear Creek Bridge and every time one of them rolled over, the bridge swayed and woke both of them up. We slept deeply and a wee bit late.

Until we had climbed above 9,500', we tip-toed down the trail, avoiding the poison oak. It is an evil, tricksy plant. It grows low to the ground as a shrub, or as a vine, much like poison ivy. However, its shiny, leathery leaves can take on a multitude of shapes: smooth-edged, notched, or lobed (like another leaf). Identifying the darn stuff on the fly gets tiresome.

After a brief break at Lookout Rock (Sierra Butte already seems so far!), we re-entered the woods. In addition to several pesky flowers that haven't yet been identified, we saw Monk's Hood, camas, bleeding heart, Washington lily, tiger, Sierra Laurel, Pipsissiwa, and spotted coral root.

Today we covered 25.2 miles. It's hard to tell how our bodies will handle the big miles. We'll just have to wait and see.

-Dave

July 11, 2004
By scant seconds we stayed ahead of Billy Goat. Of course he had gotten up at 4:00 something and walked 5.8 miles already.

After a bit of flat walking, we began the nearly 4000' descent to Belden. When Jumping off a cliff seemed the only way to get down to the Feather River, the switchbacks appeared. The trail was brushy, blocked by downed trees, and worst of all, covered in poison oak. We developed stylish dance and yoga moves, but some was unavoidable.

At the Belden Town Resort (a dilapidated, bygone place, run by polite incompetents and sandwiched between a highway and a rail line)we showered (once the "management" could figure out how to open the locked door)to wash off the poison oak. The restaurant provided fried things and we whiled away the hot afternoon on the shaded porch. Spirit, Billy Goat, Captain Mike, and Wholesome (a fellow Vermonter) shared watermelon.

At 4:00 p.m. we left and began the hot climb, again brushy with plenty of poison oak. It's 39 miles to Chester, and we'd love to be there for brunch in 2 days. We'll see how it goes.

-Dave

July 12, 2004
"French Toast" was our mantra for the day. We woke at Myrtle Flat Camp, 39.4 miles from Chester, our next resupply town, and we were determined to get there in time for breakfast tomorrow. With visions of breakfast food dancing in our heads and a smooth dirt tread under our feet, the miles flew by. The motivating power of good food for a perpetually hungry thru-hiker cannot be underestimated!

We went by such unremarkable landmarks as "poison spring," which we drank from with no apparent ill effect, "Humbolt Summit," which did not appear to be at the top of anything, and "Butt Mountain," which we saluted appropriately.

In the end, we hike 30.5 miles today. Our original goal had been to get to the top of the climb at Butt Mountain (29 miles), so that tomorrow would be all down hill. When we got there, over achievers that we are, we decided to make it an even 30 miles. This had the added advantage of getting us one mile closer to French Toast. Unfortunately, the 30-mile mark put us in the middle of a shrubby manzanita covered slope, so we continued.

Around 9 pm, while the light was fading fast, the slope started to ease. We made do with a mostly flat place covered with sticks, which we could move. Now we're settling down to sleep just 9 miles away from French Toast. I sure hope it's good!

-Lexi

July 13, 2004
French Toast gear was evidently still working this morning. We hiked to Rts 36/89, hitched to Chester in 15 minutes (A huge success, since others waited up to 3 hours for a ride. Apparently a Rainbow Gathering is in the neighborhood and the locals don't seem too eager to give anyone a ride.), and had ordered breakfast by 10 AM. We were joined by Amanda and Brian, the friendly folks who gave us a ride.
After breakfast, we spent most of the day hanging around the combo Laundromat/pay shower/ barber shop/ car wash, where we used most of the services (not the car wash). Shopping went smoothly and we ate dinner at a Mexican place on the edge of town.
The big challenge was getting a ride back to the trail. We waited for an hour on the sided of the road, as pickup truck after pickup truck drove by. A stunning number of people politely waved, as if they didn't understand the meaning of a thumb. At long last Billy Goat and Meadow Mary came by, and we were saved.

-Dave

July 14, 2004
Wow! We're half-way to Canada. It seems like a pretty big accomplishment, but also like we have a very long way still to go. While still in the midst of this journey, it's hard to have much perspective on it.

We camped last night quite close to the road just outside of Chester, in the middle of a pine plantation.

Today, we felt like tourists, except that we had to walk from site to site rather than drive. Our first stop was Terminal Geyser in Lassen National Park. Sulfurous smoke oozed from cracks in the ground, and mud pits boiled ominously nearby.

Our next stop was Boiling Springs Lake. True to its name, areas around the lake did indeed appear to be boiling. The water was opaque and the color of mint ice cream. Boiling mud pots near the lake shore varied in color from sulfur yellow to orange to dark red. Amazingly, there were trees and grasses growing on the shore line.

Our last stop was the Drakesbad Guest Ranch. Though not exactly a tourist attraction, we hoped we might be able to get a good dinner there. Unfortunately, when we arrived, dinner was not yet being served, and they were worried they would not have enough food for their guests, so we had to make due with pasta. Priest and Prophet, who arrived in time for leftovers, scored an entire barbecue.

Our day ended in a "grassy swale" (as labeled on the map) otherwise known as mosquito hell. Even though well coated in DEET, I was being swarmed. Dave, who shuns DEET in favor of denial, was doing an awkward dance trying to swat the backs of his legs while still making forward progress. At last, we decided to call it a day. We set up the tent as fast as we could and dove in.

-Lexi

July 15, 2004
A chilly evening probably in the thirties kept the mosquitoes at bay early, but the temperature steadily rose. We were swatting until past Badger Flat, about mile 10 for the day. Then the trail was so dusty it was hard to closely follow anyone else.

We rolled into Old Station at about 3 and saw Birdnut for the first time since Tuolumne. Mission Control, his ex-wife, had held him up for a few days by coming out to visit. We ate dinner at the restaurant and ice cream (It comes in pints?) on the lawn before heading out again.

A few miles further, we took a circuitous detour to Subway Cave. It is really a lava tube, a tunnel for long gone molten lava. It was a glorious 46 degrees, and a lot like a subway tunnel, except a bit more oddly shaped, and with bumpy things on the floor to trip you, and pokey things on the ceiling to bonk your head.

Now we're camped on Hat Creek Rim, an escarpment that looks cool on the topo maps, but which has a 30 mile dry section. So we're back to carrying a gallon of water each. Hopefully we can cover good distance in the morning before it gets too hot.

-Dave

July 16, 2004
Today we journeyed along the infamous Hat Creek Rim, a cliff up to 1,000 feet high that rises above the valley. It is one of the longest waterless stretches on the trail (29.4 miles). Much of the area was burned in a wildfire 15 years ago and the remainder is open woodland. It is long, dry and hot. It is also beautiful. We awoke early to beat the heat and were treated to sunrise views of both Mt. Lassen to the south and Mt. Shasta to the north. Both mountains kept watch over our progress the entire day. The expansive Hat Creek Valley lay to our west.

Towards noon we arrived at a much needed water cache hidden under a shelter of branches. We waited out the heat of the day there in the company of Scrote, Iceman, Radar, Birdnut and Billy Goat. After a 4 hour siesta, we finally persuaded ourselves to move on.

The trail alternated between dusty and rocky. When rocky, the tread was lined with sharp volcanic rocks that look like solidified foam. When dusty, there was a fine red dust up to an inch thick that rose in huge clouds with every footstep. I don't think I've ever been this dirty.

Now we're camped a scant 3 miles from the water. We'll be there for breakfast!

-Lexi

July 17, 2004
Being out of water, I ate Ultimate Cheddar Chex Mix as we walked through fields lumpy with lava chunks. It seemed like a strange breakfast; Lexi preferred a Clif bar. At Rock Spring Creek, we rinsed off the first layer of Hot Creek Rim dust and filled our bottles. A bit later, we paused for a second breakfast of more ordinary cereal.

Approaching Hwy 299, we heard frantic yells, and moments later Sadie came tearing down the trail to meet us. Sadie is the energetic black mutt of Gordon and Sue, certainly the most inspirational people we've met on the trail. We met them first in Independence, and have been seeing them regularly as we proceed north. Gordon and Sue started the summer as the support people for a hiker who quickly left the trail. Since then they have been traveling in their white van with the pack of hikers, helping out all comers. They are a brother and sister team from Missouri who would clearly love to be on the trail but are not up to the physical challenge. A former EE teacher, Sue is now seriously disabled with diabetes and needs constant care. Most people in her condition would languish in a nursing home. Instead, with Gordon's unending patience and love, Sue is traveling the country, meeting new people every day. Sue's courage and Gordon's compassion are a little miracle. They make what we do seem frivolous and easy.

Gordon was thrilled to have Sadie back, gave us cold Gatorade, slacked us to Burney Falls State Park, and brought us peaches from town. He did this all while feeding and caring for Sue, whose blood sugar seemed dangerously low. We showered and loitered at the park the rest of the day, and even went to see the spring-fed waterfall. At this time of year, it is the largest falls in California by volume, and yet just a mile upstream, the streambed is bone dry.

-Dave

July 18, 2004
Today we began the infamous Section O. It is known for massive blowdowns, trail obscuring shrubberies and impenetrable thickets of poison oak. So far, however, we have only seen scattered poison oak in the first five miles, and the shrubs, while overgrowing the trail in some places, are not nearly as bad as they were around Belden. Perhaps the trail will get worse, but so far, Section O seems pretty manageable. Of course, we did pass a large section of trail that had been recently cleared. Someone did great work trimming shrubs, widening the trail and digging drainage ditches, for which we were very thankful.

In all honesty, the trail today was pretty boring. We were mostly contouring along a basin through the woods. We kept ourselves amused by playing 20 Questions and singing silly songs. We've been traveling with Scrote and Radar, and it's been nice to have their company.

Now, after 28.5 miles (there are advantages to boring terrain!), we're camped at a lovely spot near Moosehead Creek.

-Lexi

July 19, 2004
After yesterday's big mileage, our bodies weren't overly eager to do it again. We ate granola in bed and hit the trail at 7:30. We caught up with Radar and Scrote by mile 10 and had a leisurely midday dinner by the Frigid Deer Creek. All morning our legs had battled through the prickly gooseberry, and a superficial cleaning felt great.

Our afternoon began with a pleasantly soft needley stroll by enormous (5'-6' diameter) Douglas Firs. We soon descended to open oak woodland, and the poison oak showed up. Fortunately too much elaborate footwork wasn't necessary to avoid it.

Now the four of us are shoehorned into openings on an extremely abandoned road (trees everywhere). Lexi and I are looking forward to a day off in Mt. Shasta before we tackle the mountain.

-Dave

July 20, 2004
All morning we played 20 questions, 1-2-3, and Jeopardy (Alex, I'll take California's Geology for $400) to stave off the boredom of winding around forested hillsides. Squaw Valley Creek was a welcome break. It was spanned by a high arching bridge, had cold, deep swimming holes, and featured jungle-like umbrella plants. We cleaned off the dust of the trail and ate dinner with Radar and Scrote. The afternoon was much like the morning, except with sporadic views of cloud capped Mt. Shasta. Seeing it is making us excited for our climb on Thursday.

Yet again we camped in tight quarters with Radar and Scrote. This time we were on an abandoned road that had so many trees growing on it that it barely looked like a road still.

-Dave

July 21, 2004
Swarms of tiny mosquitoes motivated us to break camp in record time. We rolled downhill towards the noise of I-5, eager for some rest. At Ammirati's Market in Castella we found satisfying cold drinks, whole milk for Lexi and Alaskan Smoked Porter for me.

We planned to stay with trail angels JoAnn and Emory near Mt. Shasta, and take a day or so off the trail to climb the mountain. Emory picked us up, we rented helmets at the outfitter, and picked up ice axes and crampons at the post office. After showers and laundry we plopped on the couch and watched Lance Armstrong demolish all comers in an exciting time trial up L'Alp d'Huez. After long hiking days, we really needed the break.

After pizza and buying food for the next section to Etna, Emory dropped us off at the Bunny Flat trailhead. Beautiful alpenglow is lighting up the mountain and getting us excited for tomorrow's climb. Hopefully we can get some sleep before the early alpine start. Even more hopefully the troop of Boy Scouts ahead of us won't chuck rocks down on us.

-Dave

July 22, 2004
Our day started early, even by Billy Goat's standard, and he usually gets up at 4:30. We hit the trail to climb Mt. Shasta at 2:30 AM. We had to start that early because we wanted to be off the summit by 10 AM. Later in the day, the snow and ice high on the mountain soften, causing rocks tenuously frozen together to fall. One part of our route is so well known for rock fall, it is nicknamed 'The Bowling Alley'. We wanted to be away from there long before it became dangerous.

Hiking in the dark with small pools of bobbing light showing the way is always a little disorienting. This was compounded by our exhaustion and our lack of familiarity with the mountain. As we left the trailhead we were all alone; no one else in the camping area was stirring. We wondered somewhat anxiously whether we were on the wrong schedule.

After what seemed like hours, but was probably only 30 minutes, we arrived at the first big camping area on the mountain: Horse Camp. All that we could see of it was the faint outline of the Sierra Club hut and the rocks piled around the spring where we filled our water bottles. We were still alone, and I was getting a little anxious about the prospect of route finding.

From Horse Camp, we headed up 'The Casuseway' a very obvious rock trail. Soon the rocks gave way to very unstable scree that was annoying to walk on, so we opted to strap on crampons and head up a nearby snow gully.

We started to see many patches of light far above us on the mountain, reflected from the headlamps of other parties. Soon it was light enough that we could begin to see the route that both we and all the other lights were headed up. I started to relax and enjoy climbing up the snow. With ice axes and crampons, we were able to go straight up the hard snow and made quick work of the lower slopes.

One by one, we overtook the parties ahead of us. There were many Boy Scouts with guides in groups of about 5. The scouts seemed to be in greatly varying conditions, some clearly miserable and others quite happy.

Around 6 am, the sun began to rise. The valley below us was filled with pink haze. The dark purple shadow of the mountain stood out against the pink. As we were on the western slope, we wouldn't see the sun for a while, and it was still quite cold.

The snow slope ended abruptly in a rock band called the 'Red Banks'. A few snow gullies were the only route through the cliff. After a few steep bouldering moves, we headed up the left most one: a 5 ft wide path of snow with crumbly volcanic rock on both sides. The lower part of the gully was quite steep. For 20 or 30 feet, climbing it required total focus. Planting the pick of the ice axe in the snow, moving one foot, then moving the next, I slowly made my way up. We were careful not to touch the sides of the gully lest we knock rocks down on those below us. Gradually the angle decreased and we continued climbing up. At the top of the gully, we were greeted by the sun, and we stopped for a break.

Dave, at this point, was really feeling the effect of the altitude. (We were at about 13,000 ft.) Waves of nausea threatened to force him to turn around. Determined, he powered on, bolstered by heavy breathing, and visions of Lance Armstrong winning the Alpe d'Huez in the Tour de France.

The altitude didn't bother me much at all, and I walked happily along, chatting amiably with Adam, an elementary school teacher from Sacramento. By 9 AM we reached the summit, which we had to ourselves. From the top we could see south to Mt. Lassen and north into the dry desert of eastern Oregon. The desolate view made us glad that the trail would take us west.

The descent was substantially faster than the ascent. Once we had gotten below the Red Banks, we were able to slide on our butts. There was a trench about 2 ft deep that was banked and curved like a bobsled run where others had slid before. We followed this down for thousands of feet stopping only briefly to warm up our very cold backsides.

Once down the mountain, we called Emory the cell phone that he had loaned us. Soon we were relaxing on the couch with JoAnn, watching the Tour de France, and eating a barbecue dinner that couldn't be beat. It was a truly fabulous day, and I'm extremely grateful to JoAnn and Emory for making it possible.

-Lexi

July 23, 2004
Rest days are divine. We slept late in JoAnn and Emory's RV, cooked scrambled eggs, and watched more of the Tour de France. After a good deal of lollygagging, we packed our packs, taped up the boxes, and were on our way. We bid a thankful farewell to Emory, and JoAnn drove us back to Castellan. Before hiking this trail, it would be hard to believe that this kind of hospitality could be possible. Thanks to Emory and JoAnn we had a fabulous climb of Mt. Shasta and some solid rest.

At 2 o'clock it was 104F. We were hardly inspired to begin the long climb through Castle Crags State Park, so we walked over to the campground, where we found Juniper, Salamander, and Dude waiting out the heat. By 7 PM it was still unpleasant, but we moved on, prepared to night hike. The day's heat dissipated very slowly, so we hiked on past dusk. Hiking in the near dark, I made a peculiar find, 5 cents of Canadian Tire Money (There can't be a Canadian Tire Store within 1000 miles). At 9:30 we reached an inviting sandbar near Sulphur Creek, and made camp. It was uncomfortably warm. I didn't touch my sleeping bag until 3:45 AM.

-Dave

July 24, 2004
Anticipating another unpleasantly hot day, we arose at 5:36 and were walking by 6. We climbed steadily all morning, enjoying hazy views of the Castle Crags. We stopped at a spring, our last water for 14 miles, and one by one Dude, Laundry Matt, Juniper, Salamander, Wicked, and Paparazzi showed up. Lastly, Captain Mike staggered up, looking thoroughly worn out, pulled a 15 pound watermelon out of his pack, and proceeded to chop it up. Bonus watermelon!

Not entirely interested in hiking with such a mob, we moved on towards Trinity Divide for a quiet siesta. Along the way we spotted the furry black butt of a hastily retreating bear. Once lying down for a break, inquisitive ants hampered our napping attempts. Thick clouds built up, making it reasonably cool, and when it began dripping, I packed up the watercolors and we moved on. Having finished the big climb up from I-5, we walked along a rocky ridge.

We dined by a lovely spring with Juniper, Salamander, and Laundry Mat, and ticked off a couple more miles before a fabulous sunset. Now we lie on an open rock strewn ridge just above Toad Lake. In the morning we'll enjoy sunrise over Mt. Shasta.

-Dave

July 25, 2004
Midmorning, shortly after crossing the paved Parks Creek Road, we found a note left by Weather Carrot. Three days ago, he had decided to end his hike here and return to Maine. As people get off the trail for personal and medical reasons, it seems ever more treacherous. In the face of all the challenges, how do we keep going? We're still here because we love it, because we take care of our minds and bodies, and because we wish to experience all that lies between us and the Canadian border. Thoughts of our inevitable return home makes me melancholy. We have found on the trail a new home, one that we will be sad to leave. It is not just our green tent, but the people around us and the comfortable feeling of home being anyplace. We hope that Weather Carrot has found a home in his new place.

I now lie in our tent, tired after a 29 mile day. Our bodies are amazingly resilient. We suffer modestly from isolated aches and pains, but overnight we heal and can hike again in the morning. As long as our spirit is strong we will continue.

-Dave

July 26, 2004
After our long day yesterday, we got a rather slow start to the morning. Last night, we camped next to the trail rather than at the Scott Mountain Summit campground. A whole hoard of people was at the campground: The Stone Monkeys, Laundry Matt, Dude and some others. We've been seeing a lot of this group over the last few days. Each one of them is great as an individual, but they can be a bit overwhelming as a group. We opted for quiet instead of a rowdy night around the campfire.

After a stiff climb out of Scott Mountain Summit (which is really a pass) we spent most of the day traversing open and sparsely forested ridges. We had frequent views of the snow-capped Trinity Alps just to our South. The combination of the mountain views and the high spring-fed meadows with alpine plants made the day feel a little like the Sierra again. After trudging through the forest for all of section O, it's a relief to be high again and to feel like we're in the mountains.

We met lots of folks along the trail today. It's always a little strange to talk to people out for the weekend. They are always incredulous at the distance we cover in a day. Sometimes it's hard to convey that we are simply living on the trail rather than just visiting it.

-Lexi

July 27, 2004
We got an early start this morning and cruised the 15 miles to the road at Etna Summit. Once at the road, we adopted our now familiar hitch-hiking pose: take the hat off, put the hiking sticks down, straighten the hair, smile nicely. Unfortunately, all this was to no avail as we waited for 45 minutes, and in all that time only one truck went by. The truck was from the Forest Service. The driver pulled over to chat, but wasn't allowed by the Forest Service policy to give us a ride.

The situation was looking pretty bleak, when finally, some day hikers, whom we had all passed on the trail, finally came down. At this point, there was quite a crowd of us and the day hikers were happy to take as many as could crowd into their minivan. In the end, the three day hikers and seven of us (Paparazzi, Dude, Laundry Matt, Juniper, Salamander, Packman, and us) were shoehorned into the car. Knees, elbows, arms, and legs were at all sorts of strange angles. It took a while for us all to unbend after the 15 mile drive down the hill.

Our first stop in town was the Etna Brewing Company, which is unfortunately closed on Tuesdays. Instead, of beer, we settled for milkshakes from Scott Drug, an old-time drug store with a real soda fountain. Milk shakes were followed by a watermelon phosphate, a drink we were unfamiliar with which contained watermelon syrup, club soda, and a "secret ingredient." Clearly, the mystery improves the flavor.

We had intended not to spend the night in town. Our plans changed, however, when we learned that the folks at CCTG (a school for international development) were inviting hikers to stay in their empty dorm rooms (shower and laundry included). We decided to take advantage of the hospitality that was offered-it's hard to turn down the opportunity to be clean! One of the best parts of thru-hiking is the freedom that we have, and that includes the freedom to change our plans when it seems right.

-Lexi

July 28, 2004
We left Etna early this morning. As we walked down the Main Street in Etna, looking for a hitch, we ran into Fritz and One Gallon. They have been out on the road thumbing for 45 minutes, and things were looking grim. Just five minutes after we met them, a fellow pulled over in the pickup truck and gave us all a ride. We were glad we hadn't gotten up earlier! (The pickup truck was driven by an employee of a government agency which will remain unnamed to protect the guilty party!)

We hit the trail at 8 a.m., relatively early for a day leaving town. It's nice to be strong. Even with a late start and two luxurious long breaks, we managed to hike a 25 mile day. We entered the Marble Mountain Wilderness today -- definitely one of the most beautiful places that we've been so far. Much of the day we traversed through high mountain meadows with cow parsnip and fireweed up to my shoulder. Lupines, paintbrush, and daisies added their touches of color. This place is much greener and lusher (and more humid!) than anywhere we've been yet.

We paid for our slow morning by picking up the pace at the end of the day. We finally got to our camp for the day, the Marble Mountain Guard Station, by 9 p.m. We were tired, but satisfied with our day.

-Lexi

July 29, 2004
The beautiful Marble Mountains continued today. This morning, we traversed the lower slopes of Marble Mountain itself. True to its name, the upper slopes were largely unvegetated white and gray variegated marble. The trail crossed a flat open marble terrace. The rock was deeply fissured and on one side was a large solution cave (where slightly acidic rainwater has dissolved the marble) below the terrace floor. Dave explored the cave for a few minutes while I sunned myself on a rock.

The end of the day was a long dry pounding descent largely on abandoned logging roads. Finally, we hit the valley bottom at Grider Creek. We enjoyed a swim in a large pool in the creek before descending to a little used Forest Service campground for the evening.

-Lexi

July 30, 2004
We had a surprisingly cold and quiet night next to Grider Creek. I was pretty darn hungry (having eaten very little yesterday), so we packed and began the 6.5 mile road walk into Seiad Valley. The road wound along the Klamath River for miles before we could cross on the Highway 96 Bridge. Fortunately, we weren't passed by a dusty logging truck along the way.

At the PO we picked up a pint of genuine maple syrup, made by Burr at Morse Farm. Next stop: the Wild West Cafe for the infamous pancake challenge. News travels fast on the trail: the cook was expecting both me and the maple syrup. Spirit, Bill and Ursula, Buzz and Izzy, a couple of section hikers and several locals popped their heads in to witness the spectacle. It's a simple matter: eat five pancakes in two hours and you get them for free (a $7.95 value). Of course, they're 3/4 inch thick and larger than a dinner plate. Only 9 people have ever succeeded. I was glassy-eyed with hunger from the start. The first two went down immediately, the third eventually, and the fourth reluctantly. I took a few bites into number five, but swallowing wasn't working too well, and I felt on the verge of a coma, so with three minutes left, I declared defeat.

Out in the shade between the road and the bathroom, we sat out the near 100F heat with Bill, Ursula, GT, and Joe hobo (a guy who had been twice arrested for public drunkenness this trip, and who had consumed 18 Budweisers already today). The humidity was so heavy that nearby hills looked hazy, and tickly drops of moisture condensed on my arms and legs.

5:00 PM. Thirsty, hot and feeling that surely I should be eating something, I return to the restaurant for a blackberry milkshake. Fresh blackberries! And no chewing!

8:00 PM. 200 feet up the climb out of Seiad Valley. The pancakes have clearly started to migrate from the stomach downward, with violent and peculiar effects. Beware pancake challenges; it's not over 'til it's over.

-Dave

July 31, 2004
After a peaceful night with Cicely B and GT, we continued climbing to the ridge, were we were suddenly greeted by the fabulous views of Lower and Middle Devils Peaks. We took long breaks at Lookout Spring, Kangaroo Mt., Cook and Green Pass, and copper Butte. And yet we still managed to hike 20 miles, the shortest full hiking day we've had since the Sierra. I never would have believed before this trip that a 20 miles day would seem short and decadent.

We're eager for tomorrow, we'll get to Oregon! After three months its a whole new concept to measure our progress in states not just miles.

-Dave