Making it Happen

'Moments like this don't just happen, you have to make 'em happen'. We've been saying it from start until finish. This leg could be described perfectly with these words. 

After leaving the wonderful town of Sierra City, we arrived in Truckee, where we stocked up on resupply - we were sick of Ramen noodles - and Dad bought himself a new mattress as his old one had a puncture. Here we stayed for one night and  enjoyed a very welcome burger, milkshake, and a blueberry muffin for breakfast!!

However, this experience was short lived as just the next afternoon we were back on the trail for our final leg: Truckee to Echo Lake (South Lake Tahoe). 

This was our highest elevation leg yet and our first sighting of Lake Tahoe so we were naturally very exited (if a bit nervous, too). 

We started off strong out of Truckee, but it wasn't long before I started to feel a bit sick from the first steep incline. I soldiered on, telling dad I should, literally, 'man up'. After a short break we were back on the trail and hiking a solid 3 miles per hour. 

It wasn't long after that until we got the pleasure of seeing a few beautiful views along the way. 

An unexpected early sighting of Lake Tahoe.

A beautiful sunset to finish off a glorious day. 

And finally sleeping under the stars, and without a tent for the first time. 

The next day we slept in as we knew that, after having our 25+ mile days, a 16.4 mile day wouldn't be too much of a strain. 

We started hiking at around 8:30 and stopped at around 11, when we arrived at a beautiful Richardson Lake. 

Here we met some fellow southbounders, the first we've seen yet. I started to talk to them while dad went off exploring. It wasn't long before we heard a loud splash and turned around to see him swimming. I would have taken a photo but I was so engrossed in jumping in myself that this skipped my mind. 

After Richardson Lake, we had a flat but long incline, and to pass the time Dad and I started quizzing each other. We covered history, science, geography and math; and both learned a lot from each other - I had no idea how interesting the American Revolution was, no - really!!

With some time on our hands and some wonderful views, Dad decided to try out his photography skills. Despite using an iPhone, they are pretty impressive. 

That night at camp, we had a new idea; to play gin. We had brought cards for the trip, but had only played them once or twice, during our town days. We decided to create a new tournament, best of seven for each set, best of thirteen sets for the match. I didn't think I stood a chance but at present it is 6 sets to 5 to Dad, so it's pretty close. This has helped to take our minds off hiking during the breaks and at camp. 

The next day was supposed to be our last, hiking 19 miles to arrive at Echo Lake. Unfortunately I decided to take my pack off during a break and to jump from boulder to boulder. Big mistake. I ended up badly bruising my ankle and so had to limp the 4 miles up Dicks Mountain and then another 10 down it. While dad had his low with his blisters, my low was my incredibly painful ankle.  However, the plus side was that this meant that we took time to take a look at some of the most beautiful scenes yet; Lake Aloha, Lake Tahoe and Half Moon Lake. 

A few hours later, to our surprise we saw a sight it seemed we'd see, Echo Lake itself. After practically running down to it, we decided it was too beautiful to pass on, and decided to spend the night and hike the final 3 miles the next day.

 

However, the next morning my ankle had seized up and was hurting even more than the day before so we decided to instead take a short boat ferry for the last three miles. After arriving at our final destination, we treated ourselves to a great homemade sandwich from Echo chalet; whose business is low due to no water. 

We then decided to hitchhike into South Lake Tahoe and spend a few days there before our flight back. We were picked up by Mark, who just seemed to have this amazing energy about him. He had actually been brought up in England, and you could hear a few remnants of the accent. 

He took us all the way to our hotel so thank you, Mark. 

So hear we are, in a hotel in South Lake Tahoe, after hiking 350 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail without killing each other, a trip we've been planning for years, to help me become a man; and I truly believe it has. 

It has been an emotionally gratifying experience, for both me and Dad. I have thoroughly enjoyed every step of the way and feel that this trip really has been the adventure of a lifetime. As Dad said in an earlier post, great moments don't just happen, you have to make them happen. 

Half Way

The morning of our third leg began with a deeply welcome thunderstorm, even if we didn't have any rain gear. 

The drought in California right now is the worst since records began (163 years), and is exacerbated by a record low snowfall last winter.  Normally white peaks are clear.  Normally flowing springs are dry.

For hikers, this has meant carrying more water - we often haul more than 10 pounds of H2O on our backs.

While we were happy to see the rain, I had foolishly sent all our rain gear, except our tent cover, back to my dad after our 5-day stretch in the desert.  So to avoid being soaked wet, and possibly hypothermic, we were forced to apply a little Williamson Innovation Technique (or wit, for short).

The trash bags were wonderfully effective, and a lot cheaper than all the rain gear we'd bought.  

Doh!

The rain clouds were low and lent the entire trail a different experience.  Visibility was limited without limiting the vista.

The third leg found us joining the Lower Sierras, and higher elevations.  Several peaks began to be treeless, with wider panoramic views.

As a whole, our excursion could be viewed as a micro-PCT.  The complete Mexico-Canada route starts in the desert (for a month!!) and winds it's way through the Sierras up to the Cascade Range and massive Mt Rainier.  Similarly, we spent a week in arid Hat Creek Rim (from which my feet have still not fully recovered), and will finish in normally glacial peaks.  

Our first visit to these summits was Lookout Rock, which happened to be within about a mile of the half way point of our trek.  So we tarried there a bit longer than we might otherwise have done, and were blessed to witness the storm dissipate from a thick soup,

into a celestial sweep.

An interesting sub-plot to our adventure is how the people we meet marvel at Ben being willing/able to hike 300 miles, how they sometimes ask me quietly whether I coerced him to do this, and how our reality on the trail boils down to my struggle to keep up with him.

We've worked out we both hike a reasonably quick natural pace.  I'm generally about 3mph across most terrain, but Ben is more like 3.2.  He's had no blisters and only required his sometimes problematic knee to be wrapped once.  

So each day, we spend about half the time hiking separately.  Although some friends have voiced a concern with this, we both have a GPS map of the trail, so I know he can't get lost.  The reality is he's a young buck, needs to be able to stretch his legs, and it's a great feeling to be stronger than your dad at something.

The other half the time, he follows my pace, and we share.  He's taught me loads about 1066, the founding kings of England, and various battles, especially with the Scots - all far more interesting than I had appreciated.  Side note - it seems English schools teach mostly battles when the Scots defeated the English, which must reveal some sort of guilt or political agenda.  Or both.

It also seems that English schools don't spend much time focused on US History (shock, horror..!), so I've done my best to share the history of America, from the Native American tragedies, to the founding fathers and the Constitutuon, slavery, the civil war, and favourite Presidents.

All while the landscape changes and unfolds before us, from river crossings,

to sweeping panoramas.

The last day of this leg had a small share of unexpected drama.  During our first 10 days on the trail, we were both surprised at our lack of appetite - despite our daily exertions, for a time we were eating about 2000 calories a day!  I knew this wasn't sustainable, even if I have enjoyed moving three holes on my belt.  So we carried more food than we were eating, but tried not to carry TOO much extra. 

Toward the end of this last leg, our hunger returned.  So that just as we began the difficult ascent around the Sierra Buttes, for short periods a nearly 40% climb,

we were having to ration our food.  I even resorted to some horrible tasting Gu packs that are full of calories; to his credit Ben retained his standards and went without.

Then, on the descent down the other side, the precipice of which is poorly captured here, as the potential peril of a poorly placed step was pretty severe,

we were stopped in our tracks by a rattlesnake.  It hissed and rattled and recoiled as rattlers do, and my mind was not firmly focused on photographic opportunities.  Due to the narrow trail, and the angle on either side of it, we had to shimmy past him like some sort of vertical limbo, probably just a foot or so outside his striking distance.  Of course, we know logically he was probably petrified, and striking us the last thing he wanted to do, but at that moment it all felt pretty lively.

From there we descended, watching every step quite carefully, and hitched a ride with an artist whose name I forget... (sorry!), a really nice pastel painter from the Bay Area,

into charming Sierra City.   

It's a tiny mountain village, without a stop light or sign, but with plenty of character.

It has a dozen little businesses, mostly cafés and rooms, and a welcoming little country store.  Larry and Kathy clearly take a lot of pride in making guests feel welcome, not least by anticipating the ravenous hunger their visitors might have.

Our previous rationing made this burger one heckuva meal.

We now have another day off.  An off-shoot of Ben's impressive tempo is that we've been averaging 20-25 miles per day.  We had originally planned on 14-16 miles per day, so we're getting to enjoy a few more of these than expected.

Behind Sierra City there's a minor mountain river with a large eddy beneath some rapids that serves as the local swimming pool.  Something tells me that's where we'll be later today.

The Grind

Within anything great, there is always the grind - those details you don't always enjoy as much, but are actually the foundation of the highlights.  

Camping - Ben's department, unless the weather's bad, when I help.

Cooking - my department (mostly it's just heating up the water, but don't tell Ben - these old bones need some sitting time after a day of hiking!)

Injuries - did you know it was possible to get a blister beneath a callous??

While Ben has been happily bouncing around the trail, my back, knees and shoulders have all groaned, and my left Achilles sometimes makes a noise (!?) when I flex it.

Cards - some very competitive card playing is taking place before we fall asleep each evening.

Truckin'

Getting back on the trail from Chester happened just at the right time for me, if not for Ben.  After initially leading us out like a cavalry charge,

Ben had that sunburn lethargy one gets from a warm summer's day.  We had a reasonably gradual, 10-mile ascent of about 10% gradient to get back up to the mountains, and the next camp sites, but he was dragging.  I felt great; for once progress was down to how Ben felt.  We debated how far to push - our potential reward was a summit sunset.  

During this ascent, we passed the half way marker for those hiking the whole trail, from Mexico to Canada.  At about 2600 miles, it takes 4 to 5 months, and we'd been passing several of them each day on our hike south.  Due to the time commitment required, most thru hikers are college kids, but we'd seen a few people of all ages, including a woman in her 70s!  People are amazing.  Ben and I have agreed they're all crazy, and we admire the heck out of their craziness.

By 7pm, we hit a campsite about four miles shy of the summit, and as the sun sets at about 830pm, I suspected a push might be beyond us. 

To share some context, we've read an average inexperienced but reasonably fit hiker, like us, will travel about 2.25 mph in mountain terrain.  So with four miles to go, pushing would probably mean doing part of the hike, and setting up camp, in the dark.

Ben knows these numbers, and has proven a capable statistician and planner for the expedition.  So when I asked him what we should do I was mildly surprised he suggest we go for it.

We got there just as the sub dipped behind the mountains, which was deeply rewarding.

The eleven mile ascent had whizzed by in  the end, and as we watched the evening light disappear, it was a beautiful reminder as to why we were here.

The next morning, I had more foot fun - another blister.  Fortunately, now that I have the right meds, and know what to do, we didn't lose any hiking time.  The day after I bled this one was relatively pain free, and we hiked about 24 miles.

And so our routine settled.  We were doing more miles than planned, and constantly enjoying exalting reminders of the beauty of nature

 

Before we knew it, we were ready to descend into the Belden Gap.  

The Belden Gap drops about 2 miles in elevation, just to have to reclimb it, in about 20 miles, for an average descent and ascent of 25%.  It is the steepest sustained climb of the entire PCT, and was the part of the trip we'd both been looking forward to and dreading.

The descent was foreboding as we climbed down into an exposed canyon, and felt the heat of another 100+F day.  The canyon seemed to absorb any hint of wind, leaving the rock and trail baking before us.

We decided not to fight against Mother Nature, and went to Caribou Crossroads Cafe for a beer, burger, milkshake and some cards while we waited for the heat to pass us by.

The plan was to start the hike at 730pm, and ascend 4 miles to about half way up.  

The trail itself was both relentless and a marvel of engineering.  It was cut into the mountain at a remarkably steady rate, so that climbing it almost took on the nature of a tread mill.

The only thing more remarkable was Ben.  He lead our ascent for the first hour, during which I regularly thought about stopping for a moment  - gimme a break, kiddo - but Ben was like a man possessed, and I just struggled to keep up with him. 

In that first hour, on the climb south out of Belden, he climbed 2.4 miles.  I don't suspect non-hikers will appreciate how bad-ass that is, especially in these conditions, but all the PCT hikers have been seriously impressed.  

Not that this says very much, as I'm no bastion of fitness, but when I lead the climb for the 2nd hour, I only managed 1.6 miles.

We camped half way up the mountain, slept on a bit of a slant, and finished the climb with sunrise.  Once we got to the top, it was perhaps the most special moment of the trip so far.

It was great to be back to higher elevation, where the temps and wind both make for cooler, more comfortable conditions.

We soon got into another good rhythm, with a spectacular variety of views to enjoy.

Another mountain lake.

Rising glade.

Even some overgrown jungle-y bits.

The hike is going so well, and we're so ahead of schedule, we decided to take a day off.  We found Buck's Lake Lodge, which has had a hard time and deserves a lot more customers.  

It burned down four years ago, and the owners were devestated.  It's just been rebuilt in the last year, and they have done an amazing job.  It's got great food, a free pool table, fooz ball, horse-shoe pits, kayaks, etc etc, and ice cold beer!

We've decided to do our best for their local economy, and ended up meeting some other hikers and having a great social evening.

We've now completed 152 miles of the trip, and we've got 176 to go.  

We're nearly half way there, but lots of variables are coming in to play.  Two of the sections we've hiked so far have now been closed due to wildfires.  It's a bit tricky for those going north, so we have to hope out luck continues on the trail in front of us.

Perhaps more worrying, in a fit of exhaustion after the first week of hiking the Hat Creek Rim, which was so murderously hot, we mailed back to my Dad anything we didn't NEED.  This included not only a couple of chairs we were hauling through that desert (good decision), but also all our rain gear. 

There's been a terrible drought in California this year, and we were just getting rid of as much weight as we could.

As I sit here at Buck's Lake, preparing to hike tomorrow morning, rain is pelting the lower Sierras, just waiting for us.  

We'll see what happens.  For now, another game of pool with Ben is calling my name.