Day 118: Mile 1789.4 - 1812.7

And today I decided to Take It Easy, and not Push It or strive for Miles, but just try to Walk and see how Far I could go. And I almost even did this--old habits are hard to break and when the Zone kicks in, I forget all my Admonitions and just Go--but certainly didn't get the miles of yesterday. To be fair the terrain was tougher today--if there was a day to get big miles, definitely yesterday with its mostly woodsy traverses, was the day to do it.

Because today we actually got some scenery that wasn't just woods woods and more woods. Today for a moment in the morning, we rose up out of the trees, over the tops, and I could see out to the east and south the blue lines of the ridges and the white occlusions of--was that cloud and fog, or just smoke?--in the far interstitial spaces between the peaks, and I looked ahead and saw more rocky ridge and thought, ok, here we go, some rocky terrain!, and then the trail crossed a saddle and promptly dropped back down into the ftrees. And I thought, nuts, there was my chance.

But the day ended up being an embarrassment of riches, because not but a few miles later the trail again climbed, this time to another saddle, one that looked out over Devils Peak. And here, now, was variety and interest! Because here there were no trees, but jutting rock formations, jagged peaks and faces cut in all manner of strange shapes, and it was glorious. And then when the trail then dropped back down into the woods yet again, this was Fine, because it was a welcome Reprieve from the exposure, and I realized that the woods are fine as long as there's something Else too.

And in the Middle of the Day the trail stayed amongst the Trees, and would back and forth along the wooded Shoulders of the mountains, and would find these little springs and streams--some watered, some less so--and these streams would be populated by these little frogs. Little frogs no bigger than your thumb, and everywhere on the trail, in the dozens, hopping out of your way, and me trying so hard not to step on any! They were pretty well camouflaged: when they hopped onto wet soil they would effectively disappear to my eyes, and I would worry about crushing them underfoot! But they were really cute, and tremendous fun to watch: you'd look down and look for movement, and suddenly realize the dirt is alive, only it's frogs!

Oh, and in a stream, huddled under a rock, bathing in the passing water, was a *big* frog, and it should sat there and ignored Double Snacks as she gathered water just upstream.

And in the Latter part of the Day the scenery changed yet again and we entered a large Burn Area, and the trees went to leafless white trunks, and the soil went to dust. And I thought, wait, are we in Etna again? And I remember joking with Double Snacks back there that, between the increased rate of fire, and the long time it takes to regrow a forest, in 50 years the entire PCT is going to look like this burn zone, only she (being rational) said, no, not really. And when we got to Oregon, with its interminable green woods, I had to swallow my words but here, just south of Crater Lake, this was lending my words some credence. And to add to the effect, the smoke came back at dusk as well, and the sky went gray and the sun went red, set against the curled dead branches of the creaking trees, and again it started to become tough to breathe. So instead of pushing to the next campsite, I contented myself with this one, ending the day relatively early--at 7pm--and setting up on this saddle. And when Double Snacks came up a bit later, she said she was happy to see someone else around, because it was getting spooky back there, and I couldn't blame her: it was indeed getting spooky. Which is likely why I liked it: this is a beautiful spot, the threat of being killed by falling dead tree in the breeze notwithstanding!

And so today was supposed to be a more relaxed day, with an easier cadence and a pace where I didn't try to go far or hard but just take it nice and easy, and it showed: only 23 miles in the same time it took to do 26 yesterday. Although I did take a break in the middle of the afternoon just to rest my feet and let them breathe some. But then on this day the trail surprised me: gave me a variety of different biomes to enjoy, and for that I'm grateful. I think I took more pictures in the burn zone than in the woods--I just like that spooky effect--and it's supposed to continue for the next 8 miles or so, all the way into Crater Lake. So there's that to look forward to tomorrow morning! (Although I'm hoping that, like this morning, this smoke will clear out by dawn.)

And that was the hike!

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Some notes:

-- Campsite > Snow Lakes Trail Junction > Devils Peak > Seasonal Stream > Honeymoon Creek > Jack Spring Junction > Campsite

-- So last night, we camped in a pretty compact little group of campsites, so tents were close to each other. And I was working into the night, typing away at this blog, when from one of the other tents a guy said, hey hemingway, it's past hiker midnight, how about you give it a rest with the keyboard. And me, once I'd gotten over the surprise, said, ok, stopped typing, and got into bed as quietly as I could. And honestly, in retrospect, I feel bad for that guy, because while I lay in my sleeping bag and feel asleep relatively easily, I remember hearing him still tossing and turning even as I headed to dreamland. In the morning, I think he may have felt he was a bit harsh as he was quiet in the beginning, but then said to me as we were collapsing our respective tents, hey, I heard you don't have a trail name, but now you do: Hemingway. Which I think was his way of trying to make amends, in that manly bravado sort of way. Anyway, I do feel bad for him: I think he *did* have trouble sleeping, even after I packed up the keyboard, and that just sucks.

-- Incidentally, Hemingway is a terrible trail name for me: have you read my writing? It is definitely *not* Hemingway, if anything, it's the *opposite* style: instead of reducing to the bare minimum words needed, I just throw words at ideas and use way more than I need. So I'm not a Hemingway-esque writer in any way! (And, just personally, I'd rather be a Fitzgerald-type writer than a Hemingway: Fitzgerald, the writing is just so so smooth! Such an easy read, and still so good!) If anything, I guess I could name my keyboard Hemingway: it's a more clicky-type keyboard, so immitates that clipped short brutality of Hemingway so much better than my words!

-- Today I met Crunchy, a SOBO, who is actually Charlie--when I introduced myself as Charlie he was taken aback for a moment: I usually introduce myself as Charlie!, he said. Maybe that psuedo-connection made him more loquacious, because we ended up talking for a while. Mostly about the trail, for which he had several insights:

* This section is dry, but once we get past Shelter Cove, water should be good.

* Resupply in Washington is fine if you're not too picky, just need to send a box to Stehekin.

* To get around the upcoming fire closures (the one from McKenzie Pass to Santiam Pass, and the Lionshead fire), it should be possible to hitch from McKenzie Pass to Sisters, then take a bus from Sisters to Bend. On the way back, there's a bus that runs from Bend to Government Camp--which is north of the closures--but it only run a few days a week. But that's what a lot of the SOBOs are doing: jumping out at Government Camp and getting back on at McKenzie Pass.

* For his part, he's planning to get to Ashland, then pass Ashland and tag the California-Oregon border. After that, he'll backtrack to Ashland, rent a U-Haul (most likely) with a bunch of other SOBOs, and drive down to Truckee to avoid the fires. Get back onto the trail somewhere around South Lake Tahoe. That's quite a skip, but the fires down in northern California--the Dixie Fire, and now the complex of fires north of Etna--make it hard to sort out logistics in that region (i.e., how to get rides to skip this little bit, or that little bit, in these small mountain towns), so it's just easier to skip it all.

* With the skip, he'll be getting into the Sierras pretty quick!

* He is a bit worried about the water situation further south--long water carries coming up for him. For us, a 15-mile carry--even a 20-mile carry--is long but we know we can do it: we did it in the desert, after all. But he hasn't had to face that every day for a week, say. So it's still intimidating.

For my part, I gave some little advices about Ashland: a rough geography, advising him to eat at Ruby's, advising him to take the bus to get around. He was much more talkative than me so I just let him go, but when I told Double Snacks about it she called me out on what advice I gave back. And honestly it was not nearly as much as he gave me, so in retrospect I was a bit parasitical.

-- As I was coming up to the burn zone, I came across Speed Devil--who lives up to the name--coming down the trail, but in the opposite direction. So I made a face and said, you're going the wrong way! And she replied, Jack's Spring (up ahead) has no water, and from there it's a long way to Crater Lake and she had less than a quarter liter. So she was heading back to the known springs to get water. And I said, I can give you some of mine--I tend to carry too much anyway--and she looked slightly askance, but I pulled out one of my bottles and handed it to her and said go ahead. And she poured a bit into her water bottle, but it was so little that I felt that he stopped pouring before she even began! That's good, she said. You sure, I asked, only that much? Well, I'm going back to the spring, she said, you're going ahead for 12+ miles without water sources. And so, with now maybe a meniscus over a quarter liter, she headed out, going in the opposite direction. I have to say, I'm not sure I would have hiked the miles from the last spring all the way to Jack's Spring, then head *back* when it was dry--probably would have tried to figure out some way to continue on to Crater Lake anyway. But Speed Devil is definitely fast--she takes long breaks but when she hikes she just *looks* fast, limbs swinging at a rapid clip--so she can justify it!

-- So today was another day traveling largely alone. There were more SOBO hikers passing by, but they keep saying there's a huge continent of NOBO hikers--over 100 strong they say!--but evidently all ahead of us. I did bump into Double Snacks at the first major water of the day--a seasonal spring that was happily trickling, and hiked with her a bit to the last trickling seasonal spring not 2 miles hence (and that was also the last water for the next 20 miles or so, all the way into Crater Lake). But then we separated--she to eat lunch whereas I already had--and I hiked alone through more woods then into the burn zone. Traveling through the burn zone alone was quite an experience, accompanied only by the little dust devils that would blow up every now and then, especially since this one was rolling hills in the smoke towards the end of the day, so you got this sense of this massive landscape of which you could only see a part--stark and dry and seemingly infinite. Anyway, Double Snacks would come up again after I had set up camp on the ridge, amongst white dead trunks and red soil, and then Daddy-O would come along, and another couple whose names I never got, and then Wetfoot (who would set up in a random spot that was mostly flat), so the solitude ended, but walking the burn zone alone was still quite a thing!