Day 111: Mile 1670.7 - 1692.0

And I awoke to still gray smoky skies, and to still a blood red sun. But at least today the wind was blowing--the air wasn't still--and that seemed to keep the immediate smoke at bay. Granted the wind blew in from the south in the morning--and there's smoke to the south--and then in from the west in the afternoon--and there's smoke to the west--but still, beggars can't be choosers!

I also woke to hurting feet. Now this may not seem to be a big idea: don't everybody's feet hurt in the morning? Sure, but this was a new kind of hurt: the pads of my feet. Usually those hurt at the end of the day, but by the morning they're fine. But this morning, not so much. It could be from general weakness caused by the stomach bug I entertained yesterday--4 catholes in 6 hours!--resulting in an empty stomach and so no energy (just rice and pork sung for dinner--very plain and bland to avoid agitating any intestinal anything). Or it could be from so much hiking: I checked, and the last zero day I took was at South Lake Tahoe, 17 days ago. I remember Dylan once said that his rule of thumb was a zero every 10 days--this was to balance miles and recovery--and I'm well past that. So I'll probably take a zero coming up in Ashland to recover. Double Snacks is not sure whether she will--I suspect she won't, in fact; a feature of her slow-but-steady approach is that it doesn't need zeros--so we might be parting ways after Ashland.

But what about the trail? Well, today the trail was a lot of woods, then more woods, then more woods. Double Snacks loved it: the day started a bit blah, with rocks and burn areas, but then the trail got into the woods and was wonderful. For her. For me it was the exact opposite: an interesting start in the rocks, the landscape stark and eschatological against the red sun, and then into woods, woods, and more woods. The woods don't seem to interest me much--oh look, another tree--although I have been trying to use the Eye, tied to the Shutter, to try and inspire some enthusiasm. (Maybe it'll work?--jury's still out.)

But this type of landscape is Double Snacks' wheelhouse, and she showed it today. Normally, she gets out of camp before me, but I catch her after a couple of hours when she takes a break, usually at a water source. We then meet up again at lunch, and then hike on-and-off together throughout the afternoon until we arrive at the agreed-upon campsite for the night. But today, I just chased and chased and chased. Every time I would catch up with her--usually at a water source--I would be coming in just as she was finishing a long break and heading out. It wouldn't be until late in the day--around 5pm--that I would finally catch up with her for good at Bearground Spring, and we would head towards the Oregon border together. We would split just before said border--I wanted to check out the Donomore Cabin--but we met up again at the border sign, then hiked together into the campsite.

Oh, yeah, today we crossed over from California to Oregon. I guess this is a big deal? I mean, what changes? It's not like the trees are suddenly panicking, oh snap, we're in Oregon?--ok, genus switch, guys, genus switch! Or the mountains are running around wardrobe saying, we're in Oregon?, where are my milder slopes, have you seen my softer soils? The trail doesn't care. But the people do, I guess. One guy packed out a glass--yes glass--bottle of alcohol from the shop at Seiad Valley, which he promptly downed at the border sign.

As for me, all I've noticed is that, so far, this campsite is colder than the one last night, so evidently Oregon is colder than California. Other than that, no impression so far. I mean, to be fair, we camped about 0.3 miles into Oregon, so it's not that I've seen much yet. Oh, and this is my first time in Oregon--I don't think I've ever been before, the only reason I could think for coming would have been a job interview with Tektronic or Intel, and I never got those--my first time in Oregon (and you *walked* here, as Butttape said). I took the *long* way here. So here's to hoping it's worth the wait! 

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Some notes:

-- Dirt Road > Bear Dog Spring > Alex Hole Spring > Bearground Spring > Donomore Cabin > Oregon Border > Campsite

-- Oh, the stomach bug did resolve in the night. In the morning I was still a bit hesitant until I dug a cathole midmorning and got a fine BM. Not sure what caused the intestinal distress: Double Snacks speculated (well, she joked, but I think it was actually a speculation) that it was the salad I had eaten from the store in Seiad Valley the day before. She had also gotten a salad, looked at the sad-looking greens, and refused to eat it. Mine looked comparable but slightly better, so I ate it. (Plus it came with ranch: put enough ranch on anything and it'll work.) But maybe I shouldn't have: maybe it caused problems. Would be a nearly 24-hour activation, which seems a bit long to me, but you never know!

-- To be fair, there were some interesting things towards the end of the day, around Donomore Cabin, where suddenly the view opened up into a wide meadow, running broadly up a valley into the mountains, the little dots of cows grazing away on the green grass. This particular valley was oriented east-west at times, so there were some great views with the red setting sun going down over the shadowed fir-tops above the grassy fields. Quite scenic, actually, even--I daresay--idyllic (albeit in a post-apocalyptic way).

-- In the morning, I was chasing the blue skies (or rather, blue-hinting skies) to the north and east. This continued until lunch, after which I lost: the skies turned smoky gray everywhere. And the sunlight was, once again, orange all day. So evidently that's one thing that *didn't* change from California to Oregon: it's still smoky.

-- Double Snacks and I mulled this question yesterday: is it hotter or cooler with the smoke? On the one hand, maybe the smoke acts as an insulator, trapping any heat under it, close to the ground. On the other hand, it changes the albedo, so maybe it cools the land below, a la a nuclear winter. Even considering just these two effects: not sure which one would net come out on top. I do know that today felt cooler than yesterday--watch registered lots of low-to-mid 80s--so maybe the nuclear winter effect is the stronger?
-- Today I met Butt-Tape, who actually I met back at Kennedy Meadows North: we were in the same shuttle going from KM North to Sonora Pass. We talked some today although not much: he was ahead, so talked more to Double Snacks than me. But I *did* get to ask him the origin of the name, which he explained was because he split the britches of a pair of Frogg-Toggs rain pants. Ah, I said, those Frogg-Toggs are notorious for ripping. Ah, he said, maybe I should tell the whole story. So he had been on the AT with his then-girlfriend, and they had just hiked a day in the rain, came to the shelter, and hung out everything to dry. Butt-Tape wanted to go to the river and get some water, so he grabbed the Frogg-Toggs off the hook, went to the river, squatted down, and riiiip!--promptly split his britches. So they taped it back together with duct tape. A few days later, they're hiking again in their rain gear, and Butttape notices his rain pants are a bit short. Now that you mention it, Dilly-Dally (his girlfriend) replies, mine are a bit long. So they check and, yes, they had switched rain pants. And, yes, when Butt-Tape had gone to the river, he must have taken her smaller pants from the hook, so that explains the tearing. So in the end, *she* ended up wearing the taped up pants, but *he* got the name: Butt-Tape!

-- Oh, Butt-Tape hiked the AT in 2017, and did a flip-flop: from Harper's Ferry north to Katadin, then back to Harper's Ferry and south to Springer. It's not the most common way to do the AT, but another hiker, O-Man, who also camped at the same place we are at tonight, did the same thing the same year. And the two never met until, here, on the PCT, in 2021. It's kind of amazing, actually, how two people can be so close yet so far for so long.