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.